Chapter 57 Jumping at Shadows - Amelia’s POV
I spent the past two days jumping at shadows. Every servant's footstep outside my door made my heart race. Every courtier's lingering glance felt like an accusation. The note burned in my pocket like a hot coal, carried with me everywhere because I couldn't bear to leave it hidden in my room where someone might find it—or worse, where someone else might leave another "gift." Kaela prowled anxiously in our shared consciousness, her displeasure at my silence a constant pressure behind my eyes. 'We should have told him immediately,' she reminded me for the hundredth time as I watched Aleksandr spread jam on his toast at breakfast, his movements precise and controlled even in this simple task. 'He has a right to know.'
'Not yet,' I responded silently, taking a careful sip of my tea to hide the tension in my face. 'Just a little longer. Until we know something concrete.'
She huffed, the mental equivalent of throwing her paws in the air. 'Two days of watching and waiting has given us nothing. Meanwhile, you're barely sleeping, jumping every time someone looks at us sideways. You think he hasn't noticed?'
She had a point. Aleksandr was observant, especially when it came to me. More than once over the past forty-eight hours, I'd caught him studying me with a slight furrow between his brows, as if trying to solve a puzzle. But each time I'd smiled and redirected his attention, unwilling to add one more burden to the weight he already carried.
"You're quiet this morning," he said now, his deep voice rumbling across the breakfast table we shared in one of the smaller sitting rooms. Sunlight poured through the tall windows, catching in his dark hair and illuminating flecks of gold in his eyes.
I shrugged, trying for nonchalance. "Just tired. I didn't sleep well."
It wasn't a lie. I hadn't slept well since finding that note, those roses, that basket. I'd disposed of everything except the note itself, scrubbing my bathroom until my hands were raw after dumping the roses, having a servant remove the untouched gift basket. But I couldn't erase the violation of knowing someone had been in my space, had left those things on my bed, had threatened me where I should have been safest.
Aleksandr reached across the table, his large hand engulfing mine. "Nightmares again?"
Another not-quite-lie to add to my growing collection. "Something like that."
His thumb traced gentle circles on my wrist, a habit he'd developed when trying to comfort me. "You know you can tell me anything, don't you?"
For a moment, I almost broke. The words crowded my throat—about the note, the threat, the fear that had been my constant companion these past days. But then I noticed the shadows beneath his eyes, the slight tightness at the corners of his mouth. He had his own burdens: the curse growing stronger by the day, a council that constantly questioned his decisions, a kingdom that needed his strength. What right did I have to add to that?
"I know," I said instead, turning my hand to squeeze his fingers. "And I would. If it were important."
'Liar,' Kaela muttered, though without real heat. She understood my reasoning, even if she disagreed with it.
Aleksandr studied me for another moment, then nodded, though I wasn't sure he believed me entirely. "I have a mountain of paperwork waiting," he said, reluctance clear in his voice. "Trade agreements with the Southern Territories that can't be delayed any longer."
"Go," I told him, forcing a lightness I didn't feel into my voice. "I was planning to take a bath anyway. Soak in some of those lavender salts Sylvia brought."
"Lunch in the garden at one?" he suggested, rising from his chair. "The weather's perfect today."
"I'd like that." This smile, at least, was genuine. Despite everything—the curse, the threats, the uncertainty of our future—these small moments of normalcy with him were precious to me.
He leaned down to press a gentle kiss to my forehead, his lips lingering for a heartbeat longer than necessary. "Until then," he murmured against my skin.
I watched him leave, his broad shoulders straight, his stride confident. Only when the door closed behind him did I let my smile fade, my shoulders slumping with the effort of maintaining the pretence of normalcy.
'He knows something's wrong,' Kaela said. 'He's not stupid.'
"I know." I began gathering our breakfast dishes onto the tray. "But what would I even say? 'Someone left me threatening roses and a note offering money to leave you'? Without any idea who did it or why? It sounds paranoid."
'It is someone close to him,' she insisted. 'Someone who can access your room, who knows about us. That narrows it down.'
"To the entire castle staff and half the council," I pointed out, carrying the tray to the door and setting it outside for collection. "Not exactly helpful."
The walk back to my suite took me through sunlit corridors where servants bustled about their morning routines. I nodded to those who acknowledged me, still unaccustomed to the deference in their manner. At Frozen Mountain, I'd been the lowest of the low—a servant without even the dignity of a proper wolf. Here, I was... what, exactly? Not quite queen, not quite mate, but something that commanded respect nonetheless.
I kept my pace measured, my posture straight, but my eyes never stopped moving. Every alcove, every shadowed corner might hide the person who had threatened me. Every smiling face might conceal malicious intent. It was exhausting, this constant vigilance.
'You can't keep living like this,' Kaela said softly as we approached our suite. 'Constantly looking over our shoulder, suspecting everyone. It's not sustainable.'
"I know that too," I admitted, reaching for the door handle. "After my bath, we'll—"
I froze, the words dying in my throat. The door to my suite was slightly ajar, propped open by something small wedged at the bottom. Just like two days ago.