I had already traced the same path across the chamber too many times to count.
Window. Pillar. Bed. Door.
Again.
My steps were restless, measured, betraying more agitation than I cared to admit. My body had recovered faster than my mind. Whatever had been done to me—whatever had been taken—left behind a hollow ache, like reaching for something I knew should be there and closing my hand around nothing.
Fragments hovered just beyond reach. Faces without names. Emotions without cause.
I stopped when the door opened.
General Griselda entered, carrying a basket of fruit. She placed it on the small table near the window with deliberate care, as if every movement had been practiced in advance.
“You should not be pacing,” she said. “The healers were clear.”
“I am awake,” I replied flatly. “And I will walk if I wish.”
Her mouth tightened. “Your strength has not fully returned.”
“And yet I stand.”
She turned to face me then, her gaze sharp, assessing. I hated that look. It made me feel like a variable in an equation rather than a person.
“The Empress sends her concern,” Griselda continued. “You are expected to regain composure. There are… discussions approaching.”
“Discussions,” I echoed. “You all love that word.”
She ignored the edge in my voice. “You have been through a great deal. It is better that you do not trouble yourself with matters beyond what you remember.”
That did it.
“What don’t I remember?” I asked.
Silence.
I stepped closer. “You were there. I know you were. Every time I try to think past a certain point, you’re there—standing just out of reach. So tell me, General. What did you do?”
Her eyes flickered. Just once.
“Everything I did,” she said carefully, “was to protect you.”
A bitter laugh escaped me. “Funny how protection feels exactly like confinement.”
Her voice hardened. “You asked for my loyalty.”
“I did not ask for my mind to be edited.”
“That is enough,” she snapped, then visibly reined herself in. “You are not well. Do not let paranoia guide you.”
Paranoia.
I stared at her, something cold settling in my chest. “Leave,” I said quietly.
Griselda hesitated—only for a fraction of a second—then straightened. “Eat,” she ordered, gesturing to the basket. “You will need your strength.”
“For what?” I asked.
She did not answer.
The door closed behind her with finality.
I stood there for several breaths before turning to the basket.
Fruit. Fresh. Carefully selected. Thoughtful enough to pass for kindness.
I reached inside absently—and my fingers brushed metal.
A knife.
That alone would not have startled me. But something about its weight felt intentional. I turned it in my hand, my thumb catching on a seam in the handle.
I pried it open.
A folded scrap of paper slid into my palm.
My pulse spiked.
I unfolded it.
Don’t believe what Griselda says.
The words blurred for a moment as my thoughts detonated inward.
If she was lying—about what? About everything? About what I’d lost? About what was coming?
Who would risk this? Who was watching closely enough to warn me?
My fingers curled around the note as footsteps sounded outside the door.
I didn’t hesitate. I folded the paper and slid it into the inner seam of my sleeve, just as the door opened.
A maid entered, eyes downcast, carrying folded garments far too ornate for recovery attire.
“My lady,” she said softly. “I am here to dress you.”
“For what?” I asked, though I already knew.
She hesitated. “For the proposal audience.”
The words struck like a physical blow.
“Proposal?” I repeated. “From whom?”
She did not meet my eyes. “I cannot say.”
“When?”
“Soon.”
“How soon?”
Silence.
I clenched my jaw, every unanswered question tightening around my ribs. My mind spiraled—Griselda’s careful words, the hidden warning, the timing of it all.
I was being prepared. Positioned. Offered.
And I did not even know the rules of the game.
“Very well,” I said finally, lifting my arms.
As the maid stepped closer, I kept my expression composed, my posture obedient.
But beneath the silk and silence, the note burned against my skin.
And for the first time since waking, I was certain of one thing:
Someone had lied to me.
And someone else was trying to help.
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