Chapter 24
Jul 4, 2025
They moved me from the cell to a stone room with iron bars and a straw-filled pallet. Better than the pit, they said. A reward. A kindness. As if the moldy walls and the chains on my ankles were luxury. As if mercy looked like rot and rust and isolation.
I didn’t cry anymore. Not even when the chain bit my skin raw or when sleep came in fits, shattered by nightmares and the sound of boots passing too close. I kept my back to the door. Always. It was the only way to pretend I had a choice in what I saw.
Until the new maid came.
Not one of Valen’s usual brutes. She was slight, clean, her fur-lined cloak too fine for a servant. Her hair was woven with tiny silver beads, and she walked like someone used to being watched.
“Breakfast,” she sang one morning, sliding the tray through the bars. “Warm gruel and honeyed roots. Your Alpha is feeling generous today.”
I didn’t respond. Didn’t even turn around.
She crouched by the door. “No appetite? Pity. They say you used to have fire. Now look at you. A ghost in a dress.”
My fingers tightened in my lap. I still didn’t speak.
The maid sighed dramatically, as if I’d wounded her pride. “Fine. Don’t talk. But you should listen.” She leaned closer, voice dropping. “I heard something interesting this morning.”
I finally turned my head.
She smiled like she’d won.
“I serve in both wings,” she said, twirling one of her beads. “Valen rewards useful tongues. And ears. And today… I heard news from the Capital.”
My heart stopped.
She saw it. Her grin sharpened.
“Cassian hasn’t left the palace,” she said, almost bored. “He barely eats. Doesn’t train. Doesn’t speak unless spoken to. But guess who visits him every morning?”
I blinked once. Slowly.
“Vaela,” she whispered like a confession. “She brings him wine. Reports. Laughter. Sometimes… she sits with him until the candles burn out.”
My pulse roared in my ears.
“He doesn’t send ravens. Doesn’t gather armies. Doesn’t even ask about you anymore.” Her tone turned almost pitying. “Maybe he moved on. Maybe you weren’t worth the war.”
I gripped the chain between my fingers to keep from shaking. “You’re lying.”
She shrugged. “Believe what you want. But I saw her myself. In his chambers. Once she even wore his cloak.”
My breath hitched.
“She said you wore red for Valen,” the maid added softly. “She said you laughed.”
“I didn’t,” I snapped before I could stop myself. “I never—”
“Does it matter?” The maid tilted her head. “He believes it.”
Silence spread between us like poison.
Then, softly, she said, “He’s not coming.”
I looked away, jaw clenched so tight it hurt. “You don’t know him.”
“I know what I saw,” she said. “A prince who doesn’t want a ghost.”
The door creaked open behind her. A guard’s voice barked something. She rose, brushing off her skirts.
But before she left, she glanced back one more time. “You should start praying, girl. I hear Valen wants to try again soon. Wants to make you ‘obedient.’” She winked. “Maybe this time, he’ll succeed.”
The door slammed.
I let my knees fold beneath me. The tray sat untouched by the bars. I stared at the bowl until my vision blurred.
Was it true?
Had Cassian stopped?
Had Vaela gotten to him the way Valen wanted to get to me?
I curled in on myself, arms around my stomach. The chain rattled.
I wanted to scream. To break something. To claw the truth from the stone walls.
Instead, I whispered, “He wouldn’t.”
Because I knew him. Knew the way his silence held more than most people’s fury. Knew the way he clung to belief even when it broke him.
Even now, I felt him.
Not the way I used to. Not bright and full and whole.
But flickering. Like a dying ember stubborn against the wind.
