Chapter 3
Hybrid's Secret: Protecting the Crowned Enemy
✴⋆⋄⋆✴
9:15 PM
Jane carried a basket of freshly folded clothes, her feet dragging as she left the washing house. The night air was crisp, but it did little to ease the weight of exhaustion pulling at her. She glanced at the clock tower in the distance and muttered under her breath.
"Another hellish day," she grumbled, her voice low and bitter. "Who knew pretending to be human would be this hard? And why am I the one delivering clothes to that stuck-up royal fool?"
She trudged up the staircase leading to Princess Ava's chambers, her legs aching with every step. Reaching the top, Jane stopped to catch her breath.
Taking a deep breath, she whispered to herself, "Just go in, hand over the clothes, and get out. Quick and painless. Stupid, but painless."
With a steadying exhale, she pushed the door open. The hinges creaked softly, and Jane stepped inside, her eyes darting around the room.
A grand mirror hung on the far wall, reflecting the elegant furnishings of the princess's quarters. But Jane's blood turned cold when her gaze landed on the reflection in the mirror.
It wasn't Princess Ava.
Instead, the mirror showed the image of an old woman, her face gaunt and wrinkled, her hair thin and gray. Jane's breath hitched, and she stumbled back into the hallway, clutching the basket tightly to her chest.
"A witch," she whispered, her voice trembling. "No… that can't be. Maybe I'm just overtired. My eyes must be playing tricks on me."
But the sound of Ava's voice sent a chill racing down her spine.
"Tomorrow night," Ava said, her voice cold and venomous, "when I'm crowned queen, I'll kill the king and his pathetic son. Then I'll take over Avalor, and every last human will be erased. Not one of them will survive."
Jane clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle a gasp. Her heart pounded as the weight of Ava's words sank in. She's a witch—a real witch—and she's planning to kill everyone.
Forcing herself to breathe, Jane adjusted the basket and stepped into the room as if she hadn't heard a thing. "Princess Ava," she said, her voice steady despite the panic churning in her chest.
Ava turned to face her. Her appearance was flawless once again—composed, beautiful, and completely unthreatening.
"What are you doing here?" Ava asked sharply, rising gracefully from her seat.
Jane smiled politely, masking her fear. "My lady, I was sent to deliver your clothes for tomorrow. It's a special day—your wedding to Prince Alric."
She stepped forward, handing the basket to Ava. Their hands brushed briefly, and Jane noted how cold the princess's skin felt.
"Thank you," Ava said curtly, setting the basket aside. She turned back to her seat but paused mid-step. "Wait."
Jane froze.
"What did you say your name was again?" Ava asked, her sharp eyes narrowing as she studied Jane.
Jane's smile wavered, but she forced it to stay. "Jane, my lady. My name is Jane."
Ava stared at her for a long, tense moment before waving a hand dismissively. "You may go."
Jane didn't wait to be told twice. She turned and left the room, her legs moving as quickly as she dared without breaking into a run. Her heart hammered in her chest as she reached the end of the hallway.
✥─✶─✥
Cater sat alone at the gate's entrance, the flickering torchlight casting shadows across his face. His hands rested on his knees, fingers curled into fists as he stared at them.
Inside, he could feel the dark power stirring—the part of him that wasn't human. It had been growing stronger ever since the fight with Zuko, clawing at the edges of his control.
"Hey, Cater," a familiar voice called softly.
Cater dropped his hands and turned to see Jane walking toward him. She looked pale, her expression unusually serious.
"Jane? What are you doing here so late?" he asked, frowning. "You should be in bed. Tomorrow's a big day, and we all need to be ready."
Jane didn't answer right away. She sat down beside him, clutching her arms as though trying to steady herself.
Cater tilted his head, studying her. "What now?" he asked, his tone edged with irritation. "I can already tell something's wrong."
Jane turned to him, her eyes locking onto his. "Princess Ava is a witch."
Cater blinked, staring at her in disbelief. "What?"
"I'm serious," Jane said, her voice firm. "I went to her room to deliver her clothes, and I saw her reflection in the mirror. It wasn't her—it was an old woman. She's using magic to pretend to be Ava. And that's not all. I heard her talking about killing the king and Alric tomorrow night, after she's crowned queen."
Cater let out a short, humorless laugh. "Jane, I smelled her yesterday. If she were a witch, I would've picked up on it. There wasn't a trace of dark magic. You're overtired. Go to bed and let it go. This isn't our problem."
The sound of Jane's hand striking his cheek echoed through the night.
"Servants?" she hissed, her voice trembling with rage. "You're the one who swore to protect the kingdom, to protect your precious prince. And now, when I tell you something that could save his life, you brush it off?" She stepped back, her hands trembling. "You know what? I don't care if you believe me. At least I've never pretended to like the royal family."
She spun on her heel, ready to leave, but Cater moved faster than humanly possible, appearing in front of her in an instant.
"Wait," he said quickly, his voice softer now. "I'm sorry, okay? It's just… it's hard to believe. Ava's annoying, sure, but a witch? How can we be certain?"
Jane crossed her arms, her anger simmering beneath the surface. "I have an idea. Tomorrow, meet me at the market near the pig farm. Alric's taking her on a tour of the city. We'll follow her. If I'm wrong, fine. But if I'm right…"
Cater hesitated, glancing down at his hands. The thought of confronting Ava stirred unease deep within him. But guilt gnawed at him, too. If Jane was right, ignoring her warning could cost the kingdom everything.
"Fine," he said finally, his voice low.
Jane gave him a curt nod, her expression grim. "Be there. Don't make me regret this."
She turned and walked away, her footsteps fading into the night.
Cater remained where he was, staring at his hands once more. The darkness within him stirred restlessly, and he clenched his fists, trying to push it back down. But the harder he fought it, the stronger it seemed to grow.
✴⋆⋄⋆✴