How did any of this happen?" Marie demanded, her voice sharp and filled with a rage that burned beneath the surface like hot coals. Her gaze swept over everyone in the room before landing on Jasmine's pale, lifeless body.
She sighed heavily, realizing Jasmine was still unconscious, barely clinging to life. Her magic had stopped the bleeding—for now. But the damage had been done. With a sharp flick of her wrist, she signaled for everyone to step out.
Loren, Ned, Nanny Nia, and the wide-eyed maids all nodded wordlessly, as if pulled by some invisible force. Silently, they moved through the room, wiping down the stained floors, disposing of the used towels, and gathering the bloodied basin.
Nanny Nia lingered the longest. Her hands shook as she gently pulled Xaden's thickest fur blanket over Jasmine's fragile form, tucking her in like a child. Then, with trembling lips, she kissed her forehead softly. "You were supposed to be safe," she whispered.
