Chapter 23 Hidden in Plain sight
Lyanna
The stone floor was cold beneath my knees as I scrubbed at a spill that had long since dried into the grout. My fingers burned from the lye, but I kept my head down and my movements steady.
Servants passed in soft-footed currents around me as I focused on the work, until the sound of footsteps slowed nearby.
Not servants.
My shoulders stiffened before I allowed myself to look.
An omega was being led down the corridor, flanked by a pair of guards. Not dragged or restrained.
Her wrists were free, steps hesitant. She was young, pale, terrified—kept glancing around as if the walls might close in on her.
from the pen, I thought. Or close enough.
The guards turned her down a side hall I recognized—one that led deeper into the Veras wing.
I scrubbed slower, attention pulled taut.
A pair of servants lingered nearby, pretending not to stare. One leaned closer to the other, voice low but careless.
“That’s her,” she murmured. “The one the Triune picked.”
“For Lord Veras?” the other whispered back, equal parts awe and envy.
“Yes. They say she’s… suitable.”
My hand faltered.
Lord Veras.
I gripped the cloth until my knuckles ached. I forced myself to keep scrubbing, eyes fixed on the floor, as if the words hadn’t struck something sharp and unexpected inside my chest.
An omega for him.
I pictured it without meaning to—fine rooms, silk instead of straw, hands that guided instead of shoved. The thought slid somewhere warm and dangerous before I could stop it.
Warm hands.
My breath hitched silently.
The memory rose unbidden: his fingers steady beneath my skirt, the careful pressure at the back of my knee. Not rough. Not careless. A touch that had paused the instant I flinched.
I shook my head sharply, veil swinging against my shoulder.
No.
That was not safety. Merely proximity, nothing more. I had told myself that a hundred times already.
Use him, a voice whispered—Marek’s, insistent. Use the opening. Use the interest.
I scowled at the stone and scrubbed harder.
I did not have the luxury of wondering what it would be like to belong anywhere. I needed distance. I needed woods and roads and nights where no one counted my steps.
A shadow fell across my work.
I stiffened.
I looked up to find a servant standing over me, a beta by the cut of his scent and the blunt set of his jaw. His arms were crossed, impatience etched into every line of him.
“You,” he said.
I blinked at him.
“You’ve been summoned.”
My gaze stayed on his face, blank. Expectant.
He scowled. “Did you hear me?”
I didn’t move.
The servant let out an irritated breath and repeated himself louder, slower, as if volume alone would bridge the gap.
Still nothing.
Understanding dawned slowly, irritation sharpening into something uglier. He rolled his eyes, lifted his hands, and signed—quickly, barely intelligible.
Summoned. Now.
My brows lifted slightly.
I signed back.
By whom?
His mouth tightened. He answered with one sharp, dismissive gesture.
Don’t ask questions.
He jerked his head down the corridor.
Move.
I rose smoothly, setting the cloth back into the bucket. My leg protested faintly, a dull pull along the muscle I’d strained days earlier. I ignored it and followed, hands clasped in front of me, eyes down.
We walked in silence through corridors I was beginning to recognize. The further we went, the quieter the manor became—less people, softer light, the walls adorned with tapestries instead of bare stone.
My pulse picked up.
I ran through the possibilities quickly, methodically.
Elias? No. He had an omega now. Or would, soon.
The noble omega I’d seen with him before? Unlikely.
The Triune? They wouldn’t summon. They’d seize.
My steps slowed as recognition struck.
The hallway.
I knew this one.
My stomach dipped.
The servant stopped before a familiar door and knocked once. He opened it without waiting for a response, ushering me inside.
“Lord Veras,” he announced, then turned and left, the door closing firmly behind him.
I stood alone.
The study hadn’t changed.
Sunlight filtered through tall windows, casting pale gold across the room. Shelves lined the walls, heavy with ledgers and scrolls. The desk sat where it always had.
And a map—larger than before—now hung on the far wall, unfurled and pinned in place.
My breath caught.
Elias sat at the desk, head bowed over a spread of parchment, sleeves rolled to his forearms. His brow was furrowed, jaw tight with concentration. He hadn’t looked up.
For a moment, neither of us moved.
I let my gaze drift toward the map.
It showed placed I knew and didn't. Unfamiliar enough to remind me how far I truly was from home.
My gaze slid farther out.
Brindlewood.
Now I could see it better.
Border villages where people passed through and were never asked too many questions.
Just what I needed.
I calculated quickly.
A week on horseback, perhaps, if one had one. Longer on foot. Much longer.
My leg throbbed faintly, as if reminding me of its limits.
My fingers curled at my sides, resisting the urge mark the path.
Something touched my shoulder.
I spun, heart hammering, hands up.
And I froze.
Elias stood behind me, close enough that I could feel the heat of him, his hand still half-raised where it had landed.
I hadn’t heard him approach.
I swallowed, forcing my breath to steady.
He signed, brows knitting.
You were focused.
Heat crept up my neck. I lowered my hands at once, then raised them again.
Forgive me.
His gaze lingered on my face, flicked past me, to the map, and back.
Did you see anything familiar?
I kept my expression carefully blank.
No.
I pressed on before the silence could deepen.
Why did you call me here?
His frown returned, faint but unmistakable. He gestured toward the chair near the desk.
Sit.
I hesitated only a moment before obeying.
He did not sit himself. Instead, he paced once, slow and controlled, before stopping in front of me.
Your leg, he signed. Have you had trouble since?
Surprise broke through. My hands stilled midair.
Why?
His mouth tightened as his brows drew together faintly.
Your space. Your work. Are there issues?
I searched his face for mockery and found none. Only intent.
I signed carefully.
I manage.
A pause.
Why would that concern you? I’m a servant.
His jaw tightened.
It’s a lord’s duty to look after his own.
The words settled between us, heavier than I expected.
I swallowed and looked away, gaze drifting back to the map despite myself.
An idea sparked, sudden and dangerous.
If he was so generous and willing to answer… if he thought I was only curious…
My hands moved again, tentative.
How long would it take to ride from here to the woods?
He blinked.
A week, he signed after a moment. Perhaps more, depending on weather.
I nodded, absorbing it, then added—
Are the woods… dangerous?
The question hovered, innocent on its surface.
He answered without hesitation.
This season, yes. Roads are poor. Bandits take advantage of travelers. And the weather—
He stopped.
His gaze sharpened.
Why do you ask?
My heart hammered.
I signed quickly.
I was curious.
A beat.
Then his hands moved, slower now.
Are you still trying to run?
I shook my head immediately, too quickly.
No.
His eyes narrowed.
Do you think I’m blind? Or foolish?
I signed faster now.
I was only curious. I came under less than ideal circumstances.
His stare held.
Is that so?
He stepped closer, his presence filling the space.
Are you that desperate? His hands cut through the air, sharper now. That reckless?
He added another sign, and it felt like a blow.
Have you forgotten your child?
Something in me snapped.
The careful walls I’d built around my emotions cracked, then shattered entirely.
My hands flew, movements fierce and unrestrained.
I think of my child every moment.
My fingers trembled, but I did not stop.
That is why I must leave. Because this is not safety. This is a cage. You speak of protection while your people burn our villages and sell us by the head.
My chest heaved.
I want my home. My freedom. I wouldn’t expect a Drakovian oppressor to understand.
The last sign hung between us.
Elias went utterly still.
The warmth drained from his face, leaving something cold and unreadable behind. His jaw set, eyes darkening as if a door had slammed shut somewhere deep inside him.
My fury ebbed as quickly as it had risen, replaced by a rush of fear.
Too far.
Gods.
I had gone too far.
I swallowed hard, hands lifting hesitantly.
I didn’t—
A knock sounded at the door.
Both of us froze.
“My lord?” a servant’s voice called. “The Aelorian envoy is here to see you.”
The words echoed.
My blood ran cold.
No.
Not him. Anyone but him.
My pulse roared in my ears as panic clawed up my throat. If the envoy saw me, there would be no running fast enough. He would sell me as easily as he sold my country.
My hands flew up. I tucked my chin, turning slightly away from the door, fingers checking that the silver strands were hidden. I shifted closer to the desk, angling my body so the light wouldn’t catch me.
Gods. Please.
If he saw me, this would end here.
Elias didn’t look away from me.
For a long, taut moment, neither of us moved.
Then his hand lifted.
Stay.
And the door began to open.