I didn't sleep that night. How could I, when it was from one traumatic event onto another
Lucien had brought me back to my room with nothing but the echo of his words in my head. The walls seemed to lean closer the longer I stared at them, as though the house itself wanted to listen to my thoughts. Somewhere beyond those thick, soundproof walls, the estate breathed—a rhythm of distant footsteps, faint whispers, and the occasional creak of a door opening and closing like lungs drawing air.
My fingers ached from clutching the small object Kael had given me, but I didn't loosen my grip. Every time I considered putting it away, a sick wave of dread told me that if I did, it would vanish. And if it vanished, so would the last piece of hope I had.
The stage.
That's what Lucien had called it.
And I knew stages.
I knew how to perform, even when my voice trembled and my eyes were wet.
The curtains on the tall window were open just enough for me to see the rain still falling. Thin lines of silver cut the blackness, tapping against the glass like impatient fingers. Somewhere out there—beyond the gates, beyond the trees—was freedom. Somewhere Kael was watching, or planning, or maybe dying trying to think of a way to get me out of here.
I pressed the square to my lips, whispered a thank you to the darkness, and slipped it under my pillow.
By morning, the rain had stopped, but the sky remained gray, the kind of gray that never lets you tell the time. A soft knock came at the door before it opened without my permission.
Two of Lucien's men stepped in.
"Come," one of them said simply.
I wanted to ask where, but the truth was, it didn't matter. My options were follow or be dragged. I stood, tucking my hair behind my ears to hide the faint tremor in my hands.
They led me through the east hallway, past the marble staircase and into a part of the estate I hadn't seen before. Here, the windows were tall but tinted so dark you could barely see outside. The air was colder, sharper, smelling faintly of metal and lemon polish.
The doors at the end opened into what I first thought was a ballroom—until I saw the table in the center.
It wasn't just a table. It was a negotiation table. Long, polished, with high-backed chairs arranged in a perfect circle around it. In the far seat, like a king on a throne, sat Lucien.
"Zaria," he said with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Sit."
I obeyed, taking the chair directly opposite him.
He studied me for a moment, his gaze sweeping over my face as if reading words I didn't even know were there. Then, he tapped his fingers on the table and leaned forward.
"You'll be attending an event with me tomorrow night," he said.
I blinked. "An event. what even?"
His smile grew sharper. "A gala. Important people will be there. People who's attention I need—and who's attention I want you to hold."
My stomach sank. "You want me to… pretend?"
"Not pretend," he corrected softly. "Perform. You'll be on my arm, charming, Gracious, radiant. The perfect wife."
The word wife stung like ice water down my spine.
I thought of Kael, and all that could possibly go wrong in this event.
"Why me?" I asked, my voice coming out steadier than I felt.
Lucien's gaze darkened, his jaw tightening slightly. "Because you're mine, Zaria. And nothing makes people talk more than the things they can't quite understand. You—" his eyes flickered down my frame, "—are a mystery. And I like my enemies to wonder about my mysteries."
There it was. The bait.
After the meeting, I was taken back to my room, but the silence was worse than his presence. I paced until my legs ached, trying to piece together what this meant.
A gala. Important people. Public space.
Maybe… a chance for another escape?
But Lucien wouldn't be careless. He'd have me wrapped in invisible chains, even in a room full of strangers. And if Kael even tried to reach me there…
I shook my head. No. Kael was smart. Smarter than Lucien in ways Lucien couldn't imagine. If anyone could turn a trap into an escape, it was him.
Still, the thought of walking into that room on Lucien's arm made my skin crawl.
That night, I didn't dream. Or maybe I did, but the dreams were too much like reality for me to tell the difference.
The morning of the gala, a small army of maids invaded my room.
They bathed me, scrubbed me until my skin felt raw, and sat me in front of a mirror so tall it showed the entire length of my body. They dressed me in silk so black it swallowed the light, with a neckline that dipped dangerously low and a slit running high along my leg.
When I saw myself, I barely recognized the woman staring back. She looked expensive. Dangerous. Almost like she belonged here.
Lucien came to inspect me just before we left.
"You'll do," he murmured, his eyes lingering on me in a way that made my pulse hammer. "Remember, Zaria—eyes forward, smile when necessary, speak only when I signal you to. And above all, do not embarrass me."
I wanted to spit in his face. Instead, I smiled sweetly. "Of course."
The gala was held in a sprawling glass building in the city, filled with chandeliers and laughter that rang too high to be real.
Lucien's hand never left my lower back as he guided me through the crowd. Faces turned toward us—men sizing me up, women whispering behind painted lips.
I let them look. Let them wonder.
If I was bait, I'd be the kind they couldn't ignore.
Somewhere in that room, I told myself, Kael might be watching.
Lucien introduced me to people whose names I forgot the moment they said them. I laughed at the right moments, let my fingers rest lightly on his arm, played the perfect part. But inside, every nerve was taut, waiting for something—anything—to happen.
And then, it did.
Across the room, through the swirl of glittering gowns and black suits, I saw him.
Kael.
It was only for a second, his face half-hidden behind a passing waiter. But I knew. My heart leapt, my breath caught, and I had to force myself not to break character.
Lucien followed my gaze. His grip on my back tightened.
"You see someone you know?" he murmured.
I turned my head toward him, smiling as if I'd been caught admiring the décor. "Just the chandelier," I said.
His eyes lingered on me a moment longer before he led me toward another group of guests.
I kept my face composed, but inside, something electric sparked to life.
Kael was here.
And suddenly, the stage Lucien had built didn't feel like his anymore.
It felt like mine.
Lucien's hand then rested at my back like a claim, warm and deceptively gentle, but it might as well have been an iron shackle. He steered me toward a cluster of polished faces—women dripping in jewels like trophies, men whose smiles were too thin to be genuine.
I smiled, bowed my head just so, murmured greetings I didn't hear. My mind wasn't here. It was tracing the invisible thread between me and Kael.
I hadn't seen him after the first time , but I'd felt him. The way the air shifted, how the hairs at the nape of my neck stood at attention, that pulled low in my stomach—Kael was near. Watching. Waiting.
"…and this is my wife," Lucien's voice cut through my thoughts, smooth as aged whiskey, meant for the ears of his guests but sharp enough for me to hear the warning beneath.
I turned my head just enough to meet his gaze. His eyes were dark, fathomless pools, searching for cracks in my performance. He wanted me to slip, to falter. I didn't.
"Pleasure to meet you," I murmured to the man in front of me, offering the kind of smile that looked perfect but meant nothing.
Inside, my pulse was a drumbeat.
Kael. Where are you?
The ballroom around me was a symphony of excess—crystal chandeliers spilling light like molten gold, champagne flutes clinking, laughter that didn't quite reach anyone's eyes. Somewhere beyond the crowd, a string quartet played something elegant and restrained.
It was all so carefully staged, like everything Lucien touched.
I could almost hear his earlier words in my head: This isn't a cage. It's a stage.
Fine. If it's a stage, I'll play my part. I'll smile when they expect me to smile, laugh when they expect me to laugh, and all the while, I'll find the seams in the set he's built.
Because Kael being here changed everything.
Lucien's hand slid from my back to my waist, guiding me toward the head of the room. His voice was low, for me alone.
"You're holding yourself well tonight," he said, as if he were complimenting an actress on her performance. "Almost makes me believe you belong here."
I tilted my chin. "Maybe I do."
His smirk was quick, almost invisible. "Don't mistake the audience's applause for freedom, little dove. You're still on my leash."
If only he knew that the leash was already fraying.
I matched Lucien's pace, my hand lightly resting on his arm, the way a proper wife should in front of society's vultures. My heart, however, was doing anything but behaving. Every step I took sent a tremor through me—not of fear, but of anticipation.
I scanned the crowd as discreetly as I could. The chandeliers spilled warm light over jewels, champagne flutes, and painted smiles. The men stood with their shoulders squared, their pride sharper than their tuxedo lapels, and the women wore silks that dripped like molten gold. And somewhere in this theater of excess was Kael—watching me, waiting for a crack in Lucien's perfect performance.
Lucien spoke, and I smiled when he needed me to. Laughed when the moment called for it. Nodded in approval at the right political promises whispered in my ear by men who thought my attention was a gift. I played my part with precision.
Because I was no longer just surviving.
I was hunting too.
I felt it before I saw it—a shift in the air, like the current of a storm moving closer. My gaze flicked to the far edge of the ballroom. A figure lingered half in shadow, near the open terrace doors. Broad shoulders. Head tilted as though assessing the crowd. I couldn't see his face fully, but I didn't need to. My pulse recognized him before my eyes did.
Kael once again.
For a moment, I forgot to breathe. It was dangerous to look at him for too long. Dangerous to let Lucien notice the focus of my gaze drift. But Kael wasn't moving toward me. He simply stood there, a silent anchor in a sea of pretense.
I caught the smallest shift of his stance—left hand brushing his cuff, right tapping against his leg twice. A signal. I didn't know exactly what it meant, but I knew it was for me.
Lucien's hand covered mine where it rested on his arm. His thumb stroked in a way that might seem affectionate to anyone watching, but I knew better. It was a reminder. A tether tightening.
"You're quiet," he murmured without looking at me.
"I'm listening," I said smoothly.
He turned his head slightly, enough to catch my eyes. "Listening is good. Observing is better. You should be learning what power looks like."
I tilted my chin, letting him think I was absorbing his lesson. All the while, Kael's presence burned into the side of my vision like a hidden flame.
Dinner was announced, and Lucien led me toward the long table in the adjoining hall. The room was a masterpiece—vaulted ceilings painted with hunting scenes, gold leaf crawling along the borders, the kind of table that seemed built for feasts that lasted days.
I was seated beside Lucien, of course, while the rest of his chosen guests filled the table in strategic order—alliances to his left, enemies he meant to charm to his right. I didn't see Kael when I sat down. My stomach twisted. Had I imagined him?
The first course arrived—something delicate and artful that I couldn't name. My hands moved automatically, the mask of civility never slipping. But inside, I replayed that fleeting signal again and again.
Halfway through the second course, I caught it—movement in the periphery. A folded napkin, placed just slightly off-center on the serving tray of a passing waiter. The napkin was black, embroidered with a tiny silver thread. My breath caught. That wasn't from the estate's collection.
The waiter set down a glass of wine in front of me, and as he leaned forward, his hand brushed mine—quick, deliberate. The napkin was now in my lap.
I didn't look at it right away. Lucien was speaking to a man across the table about shipping routes and trade tariffs, his tone all steel and calculation. I waited until his focus was elsewhere before I let my fingers find the edge of the napkin. Inside was something hard and small.
A metal button. Ordinary, except for the etched letter "K".
I curled my fist around it under the table. A promise. A warning. Or maybe both.
Lucien turned back to me just as I took a sip of wine, hiding the thundering of my heart behind the rim of the glass.
By dessert, my patience was fraying. I needed to get away, to find a moment where I could breathe without Lucien's shadow over me. But he was too attentive tonight, too aware. As though he knew that danger lurked nearby.
When the evening finally shifted toward music in the ballroom again, I saw my chance. Lucien was pulled into a conversation with a foreign diplomat, and I excused myself under the guise of needing air.
The terrace was cool and quiet, the sound of laughter muffled by thick glass doors. I gripped the railing, letting the night air wash over me.
"You shouldn't be out here alone," a voice murmured from the darkness.
I turned so fast my heel caught on the stone, and a steady hand caught me.
It was Kael.
Every muscle in me wanted to collapse against him, but I held my ground. "You shouldn't be here," I whispered.
"I told you I'd find you." His eyes searched mine, fierce and unyielding. "We don't have much time."
"Lucien—" I uttered
"Knows I'm here," Kael finished for me. "Or at least suspects. That's why you need to listen carefully."
His presence was like gravity, pulling me in despite the danger.
"You gave me this," I said, my fist tightening around the button.
"And I'll give you the rest when it's time. But for now—stay alive. Don't push him yet. He's playing a long game, and so am I."
I wanted to demand answers, to know what his plan was, but the sound of footsteps cut through the night.
Kael stepped back into shadow just as Lucien appeared in the doorway, his gaze sweeping over me with unsettling precision.
"Enjoying the air, my wife?"
I smiled, the mask snapping back into place. "It's refreshing."
Lucien's eyes flicked to the darkness beyond me. For a heartbeat, I thought he'd seen Kael. But then he took my arm. "Come. I want you to meet someone important."
As he led me inside, I dared one last glance over my shoulder. Kael was gone.
But the button in my palm burned like a brand.