CHAPTER 115: 115 - NO EXCUSES

115

~Damon’s POV

I stood there with my arms folded, leaning lightly against the doorway, watching them work. The faint smell of fresh paint and soap mixed in the air, making the space feel different already. The maids and guards moved with a quiet sort of urgency, no idle chatter, just focused hands and quick, practiced movements.

The maids were scrubbing the wall with long-handled brushes, pushing away the dust and faint stains until the surface was clean and smooth. I could hear the rhythmic sound of the bristles scraping, followed by the soft swish of water being wrung out of rags. Buckets of soapy water sloshed each time they dipped their tools in.

Once the wall was spotless, one of the guards stepped forward with a large roller, dipping it into a wide tray filled with thick, creamy paint. He spread it evenly across the wall in steady strokes, the roller making a low, satisfying hiss as it coated the surface. The color was a soft, warm tone, inviting and calm, just what the place needed. Two others followed behind him with smaller brushes, carefully filling in the edges and corners he couldn’t reach.

The scent of fresh paint deepened in the air, mingling with the faint tang of cleaning agents. When the painting was done, they opened the windows wide, letting a light breeze in. The sun streamed through, catching the wet paint and making it gleam. They didn’t rush the drying; one of the maids even stood fanning the wall with a wide palm-leaf fan while another brought in a portable stand fan to speed up the process.

While the freshly painted walls dried, the rest of the team turned their attention to the heart of the room. Every movement was purposeful, as though each person understood that they weren’t just putting things in place, they were breathing life into a space that had once felt lifeless.

Two guards stepped forward first, their boots making soft thuds against the now spotless floor. Between them, they carried a polished wooden table, the kind that seemed to have been crafted with care and patience. The rich, dark surface reflected light from the open window, showing faint swirls of grain that told the story of the tree it had once been. They set it down gently in the very center of the room, adjusting it until it was perfectly aligned.

Not far behind, a pair of maids entered carrying a plush chair. Its fabric was soft and thick, in a warm shade that complemented the freshly painted walls. They placed it near the window where sunlight streamed in, turning the chair’s color richer and more inviting. One of the maids crouched down, checking that the legs sat evenly on the floor, while the other stepped back to see if the angle was just right for someone to sit and enjoy the view.

Another set of hands unrolled a soft, thick rug across the floor. The fibers were dense underfoot, giving off that faint, fresh-textile smell. Two more people joined in, smoothing it out with flat palms, pressing away the stubborn creases until the surface lay flawlessly even. The rug’s design was subtle, just enough to add character without distracting from the room’s simplicity.

By the table, one of the younger maids appeared with a simple, clear glass vase, water shimmering inside it. She placed it gently in the middle of the table, the faint clink of glass against wood echoing softly. Into it, she arranged a small bouquet of fresh flowers, white lilies, bright daisies, and sprigs of greenery. Their fragrance quickly began to mingle with the faint chemical tang of drying paint, replacing it with something fresher, almost calming.

In the far corner, another maid dusted down a low shelf and neatly stacked a few folded linens upon it, spares for comfort, ready to be used whenever needed. Someone else brought in a small side table and placed it next to the plush chair, perfect for holding a cup of tea or a book.

They worked like clockwork, stepping around each other with quiet coordination. No voice was raised; no item was placed carelessly. Every corner, every angle, every detail was considered until the room looked less like an empty shell and more like a living space someone could step into and instantly feel at ease.

By the time the last person stepped back, the transformation was undeniable. Where there had once been dullness, there was now warmth. The air felt lighter, touched by the mix of fresh paint and flowers. It wasn’t just clean, it was welcoming, ready for its purpose.

The maids and guards turned toward me, their hands folded respectfully in front of them. Together, they bowed.

"It’s ready, Alpha," one of them said softly.

I let my gaze sweep slowly across the room, taking in every detail, the clean walls now smelling faintly of fresh paint, the way the curtains hung neatly against the windows, and the polished furniture standing in quiet order. Even the faint scent of lavender from the freshly washed sheets reached me. I took a moment, letting it all sink in, and then gave a small, satisfied nod.

"Good," I said, my voice steady but carrying the weight of an order.

They all stayed silent, waiting. I could see their eyes on me, waiting for what would come next.

"Tomorrow," I began, making sure each word was clear, "A guard and a maid will go to Lisa’s house. Serve her there, just as you would serve me here." My gaze shifted from one maid to the next, then to the guards, ensuring they understood that this was not a suggestion, it was my command.

"Take enough food with you," I continued, "and not just anything, meals that are rich and nourishing. Include supplements as well. I want her to eat properly. No skipping meals. No excuses."

I paused for a moment, my tone softening slightly but still firm. "Your job is to nurse her back to health. Make sure she rests, make sure she drinks enough water, and do not let her lift a finger for anything she doesn’t have to."

The room was silent except for my voice.

"And when she feels fine..." I let the words hang for a moment, then allowed a sharper edge to slip into my tone. "...bring her back to the palace."

Their nods came immediately, quick, obedient, and without question.

"Yes, Alpha," they all replied in unison, their voices low yet steady, carrying the weight of obedience.

I gave them no further glance, my authority already spoken for. With measured steps, I turned and made my way toward the door, the soft yet deliberate thud of my boots echoing against the polished floor.