Chapter 24

Elara

After breakfast, I was still reeling from Grace’s cruel words and actions. The girls had managed to eat their oatmeal—albeit reluctantly—and were now restless, looking for something else to occupy their day.

Just as I was considering taking them out to the library to spend the afternoon, Grace swept into the room. She was carrying a bucket and a sponge in her hands. Without preamble, she shoved them toward me, nearly causing the soapy water in the bucket to slosh onto the outfit she had so painstakingly prepared for me.

“There,” she said, her voice dripping with a smug kind of satisfaction. “Since you seem to think you can manage this household, let’s see you do something useful. Clean the floors. They look dreadful.”

I stared down at the bucket and sponge, my lips parting slightly. “You… want me to clean the floors?”

Grace crossed her arms, arching a brow as if she had caught me in a trap. “Is there a problem?” she asked innocently. “I thought as an Omega cleaner turned Luna you would be happy to ensure the house’s cleanliness. Or were you expecting to lounge around like a pampered princess?”

I felt a surge of heat bubble up in my chest. It immediately became clear to me that Grace just wanted me to cause a scene, to throw the bucket down and declare that a Luna shouldn’t be forced to do menial tasks.

Or, perhaps, she wanted me to degrade myself by scrubbing floors in silence, proving I was still just an Omega who could be ordered around.

Instead, I took the bucket and forced a calm smile onto my face. “Of course. As Luna, it is my responsibility to see that everything is in order.”

Grace’s eyes seemed to gleam, clearly pleased. But I wasn’t about to let her win.

I turned and walked toward the corridor, where a housekeeper was dusting a side table. I approached her quietly and held out the bucket and sponge. “Excuse me,” I said softly, “could you please give the floors a once-over? I’m sorry to trouble you, but my Luna duties are so numerous, and I trust your expertise with cleaning more than my own.”

The housekeeper’s gaze flicked to the supplies and then to me. I could sense her begrudging resistance—after all, I was an Omega by birth, and giving orders to a housekeeper of higher social standing might ruffle some feathers.

But I was also the Luna, legally at least, and she knew it. Finally, she inclined her head stiffly. “Yes, Luna,” she said, taking the bucket from me. Her tone was not warm, but it wasn’t openly hostile either.

I offered her a gentle smile. “Thank you. I truly appreciate it.”

A tiny spark of surprise crossed her features, as if my graciousness had caught her off guard. She nodded again and moved off to begin her work.

When I turned back to Grace, I found her fuming, her face growing an alarming shade of crimson. She clearly hadn’t expected me to handle the situation with such quiet dignity. She had hoped to see me on my knees scrubbing floors or causing a scene.

Instead, I had delegated the task smoothly, all while maintaining my composure.

“What’s wrong?” I asked in a calm voice, clasping my hands in front of me. “You had an issue with the cleanliness of the house, so I handled it. As Luna, it’s my job to run the household efficiently, is it not?”

Grace’s jaw tightened, her eyes flashing with fury. “Hmph,” was all she managed before she narrowed her gaze. “Fine. If you believe you’re so capable, let’s test your ability further. The flower garden outside is looking dreadful. Overgrown and full of thorns. Go tend to it.”

I tilted my head slightly, considering her words. She expected me to balk at the idea of messing up my hands, or to complain about thorns pricking my skin. But the thought of spending time in the garden actually appealed to me—I had always found comfort in tending plants, coaxing life from soil and seed. And besides, I had promised the girls that we would do something fun.

“Of course,” I said smoothly. “I’ll see to it right away.”

She blinked, once again clearly taken aback by my lack of resistance. I took advantage of her silence and walked over to Zoe and Ella, who were watching nervously from the kitchen doorway.

“Girls,” I said, crouching down to their level, “how would you like to help me in the garden? It’s a beautiful morning, and we can pick some flowers together.”

Zoe’s face lit up. “Can we wear our sunhats?”

“Absolutely,” I replied. “We’ll dress you both in something light and summery. It’ll be fun.”

Ella nodded eagerly. “I want to pick purple flowers!”

Grace stood behind us, speechless, as I took the children upstairs. I selected two breezy outfits—white cotton dresses embroidered with tiny daisies—and, of course, their straw sunhats to shield them from the sun. The girls giggled happily as I braided their hair and helped them get dressed.

Within minutes, we stepped outside. The morning air was bright and fresh, the scent of roses and freshly cut grass drifting gently on the breeze. I led the girls down the stone path toward the garden.

Kneeling down, I showed Zoe how to carefully pluck a stray weed without uprooting the neighboring flowers. Ella pointed excitedly at a cluster of bright yellow blossoms, and I helped her cut a few stems. We giggled as we arranged them into a small bouquet, laughing when a butterfly flitted around Ella’s hair.

As we worked, the elderly gardener emerged from behind a rosebush. He wore a wide-brimmed hat and carried pruning shears, and gray eyes watched us from beneath bushy silvery eyebrows.

He inclined his head politely as he approached “Good morning, Luna,” he said. “It’s nice to see someone caring for these flowers so tenderly.”

I smiled, pleased by his kind words. “The girls and I thought we’d help tidy the garden today.”

He introduced himself as Clyde, the head groundskeeper of the estate. “I’ve tended these plants for decades,” he explained, showing Zoe how to hold a stem just right. “But it’s always refreshing to have new hands working the soil, especially hands as gentle as yours.”

Zoe watched him with fascination, and Ella patted the ground where she’d arranged a pile of flower petals. “Look, Mommy,” Ella called, holding up a small daisy. “This one’s perfect.”

As I worked, I couldn’t help but glance back toward the house. Just as I suspected, I immediately spotted Grace standing by a window, her figure partially obscured by the curtains.

She was glaring at us, clearly annoyed—and judging from the way her eyes kept darting to me, there was no doubt in my mind that she expected me to make a fool out of myself in one way or another.

Instead, I found myself smiling softly in her direction. Let her watch, I thought to myself. Let her see that I could manage these tasks, these supposed ‘menial’ chores, without complaint or fuss. Let her see that I could turn her attempts at humiliation into moments of simple joy with my daughters.

The girls chattered happily as we finished gathering a few more flowers. I carefully selected a bright red rose, mindful of its thorns, and placed it with the others in the bouquet. The arrangement was colorful and cheerful, and I promised the girls that we would arrange it nicely in a vase inside.

Clyde excused himself to tend another corner of the garden, leaving me alone with Zoe and Ella. I felt a gentle tug on my skirt and looked down to find both girls gazing up at me.

“Mommy, can we have a picnic?”