Chapter 689

Chapter 689:

I sighed, long and quiet, before glancing up at Dominic with hopeful eyes. “Your Highness, could you lend a hand?”

He shrugged, looking serious. “It’s not that I don’t want to help you, but this child can’t be associated with me. If my father finds out… well, he won’t be pleased.”

It stung a little, but his explanation made sense. Leonardo held royal lineage above all else—a foundation for both power and tradition. He was relentless, constantly urging the three princes to produce heirs. If he discovered Dominic worrying over the child of a maid instead of securing his own lineage, it would surely provoke trouble.

Another sigh escaped me, softer this time. The situation felt like an ever-tightening knot.

Then, breaking the silence, Evie spoke up. “Makenna… maybe I can recommend someone.”

I turned my head sharply toward her. “Who?”

Evie blinked, a little hesitant before answering gingerly, “My grandmother.”

Her grandmother?

Memories came rushing back—Evie had once mentioned that her grandmother knew about the white wolves. I leaned closer, intrigued. “Is she still in the palace?”

Evie nodded, a small smile lighting her face. “Yes. She works in the laundry room. Lives quietly and peacefully.”

I frowned immediately. “But the laundry work must be exhausting. Wouldn’t it be too much for her to care for a child at her age?”

“Don’t worry,” Evie assured me. “My grandmother’s still strong, despite her years. She never complains about the work, and she loves children. If she knew she could care for this little one, she’d be thrilled.”

Something like hope swelled in my chest, cautious but bright. “Then… should we go speak with her? See what she thinks?”

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Evie’s face lit up. “Yes! She should be in the laundry room now.”

With a suitable candidate in mind, I was eager to follow Evie to meet her grandmother.

Alice offered to stay behind and look after the child, her gentle smile reassuring me that we could leave without worry.

Dominic, likely grateful to have a task off his hands, gave a brief nod before departing to tend to his official duties.

With purpose in our stride, Evie and I navigated the winding paths of the palace. Anticipation churned in my chest, and I found myself unconsciously quickening my pace with each step.

At last, we reached a small courtyard bathed in sunlight. Clothes of all kinds swayed gently on lines strung across the space, the breeze tugging at them playfully.

In the corner, an elderly woman wrestled with a heavy wooden bucket, the fabric inside damp and unruly as she tried to pour it into a large basin. Her silver hair caught the light, a shimmering crown that framed her face—lined, yes, but kind.

Her hands gripped the bucket’s edges tightly, the strain visible in the bulging veins and the taut muscles of her arms.

Without thinking, Evie and I rushed to her side. Together, we grabbed the bucket, easing its weight until the clothes tumbled into the basin with a heavy splash.

The woman straightened slowly, brushing her hands off on her apron. When her gaze landed on Evie, her tired expression melted into pure, radiant joy.

“Oh, Evie!” she exclaimed. “My sweet granddaughter, what brings you here?”

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