Elara POV
I woke up in a cage made of silk and gold.
My chambers—once spacious and welcoming—had become a prison overnight. Guards stood outside my door. My windows were locked. Even my lady-in-waiting had been replaced with one of Cassian's spies.
"Good morning, Your Majesty." The new girl curtsied deeply. Helena, I think her name was. Young, pretty, and watching my every move with sharp eyes. "His Majesty requests that you remain in your chambers today. For your health."
My health. Right.
"I need to walk in the gardens," I said, testing the boundaries.
"I'm sorry, Your Majesty. The king's orders were very specific."
So I was trapped. A bird in a gilded cage, waiting for my captor to decide my fate.
I moved to the window, pressing my face against the glass. Below in the courtyard, I could see servants going about their daily tasks. Normal people with normal lives who didn't have to worry about their husband stealing or killing their unborn child.
My hand drifted to my stomach. Still flat, but not for much longer. Soon there would be no hiding what Darius and I had created in that moonlit grove.
A soft knock interrupted my thoughts. "Come in."
The door opened to reveal the last person I wanted to see.
Mireille glided into my chambers like a cat stalking prey. She wore emerald silk today, cut to show off her perfect figure. Her red hair was piled high, and her green eyes sparkled with malicious delight.
"Hello, sister." She smiled, showing teeth like pearls. "May I sit?"
I gestured to a chair, not trusting my voice. Mireille had been conspicuously absent since my wedding. Now she was here, and I doubted it was for a friendly chat.
"You look tired," she observed, settling gracefully into the velvet chair. "Not sleeping well?"
"I'm fine."
"Are you?" Her head tilted like a curious bird. "Because from where I'm sitting, you look like a woman carrying the weight of the world. Or perhaps... something else?"
Ice shot through my veins. Did she know?
"I don't know what you mean."
"Don't you?" Mireille's smile widened. "Oh, my dear sweet Elara. Did you really think no one would notice? The way you've been picking at your food? The dark circles under your eyes? That little protective gesture you keep making?"
My hand had been moving toward my stomach again. I forced it back to my lap.
"You're imagining things."
"Am I?" She leaned forward, eyes glittering. "Because I know the signs. I've been there before, after all."
The admission hit me like a slap. "You were pregnant? With Cassian's child?"
"Oh yes. Twice, actually." Her voice turned bitter. "Both times he had me drink special teas. For my health, he said. To keep me strong and beautiful."
My blood turned to ice. "What kind of teas?"
"The kind that end inconvenient pregnancies." She examined her nails with casual indifference. "Can't have bastards muddying the royal succession, can we?"
I felt sick. "You're lying."
"Ask him yourself." She shrugged. "Though I doubt you'll get the chance. He's keeping you awfully close these days."
I wanted to scream at her to leave, but I needed to know more. "Why are you telling me this?"
"Because I want you to understand your situation." Her mask of sweetness finally dropped, revealing the venom beneath. "You think you've won something? Stolen the king from me? You're nothing but a political convenience. A pretty face to secure a peace treaty."
"Then why do you care?"
"Because you have something I want." Her eyes glittered with hatred. "His attention. His obsession. Even his anger is better than being forgotten."
She stood, smoothing down her skirts. "But don't worry, darling. Soon enough, he'll grow bored with your tragic little romance. And when he does, I'll be waiting."
"Get out."
"Of course." She curtsied mockingly. "Oh, and Elara? You might want to be more careful about what you eat and drink. The palace kitchens can be so... unpredictable."
She swept out, leaving me alone with my terror.
I rushed to the washbasin and retched, though my stomach was empty. The implications of her words crashed over me like waves. Cassian had murdered his own children to prevent bastard heirs. What would he do to mine?
And Mireille—beautiful, dangerous Mireille—was still very much in the picture. Still fighting for Cassian's attention. Still willing to destroy anyone who stood in her way.
I sank into a chair, shaking. Through the locked window, I could see guards patrolling the gardens. Even if I could escape my rooms, where would I go? My own people had sold me to secure peace. I had no allies, no friends, no one to turn to.
Except Darius. And he was trapped too, forced to choose between saving me and saving our child.
A flutter low in my belly made me gasp. So faint I almost missed it. Like a butterfly's wing brushing against my soul.
The baby. Our baby. Moving for the first time.
Tears spilled down my cheeks as I pressed both hands to my stomach. "I'm sorry," I whispered. "I'm so sorry I brought you into this."
But even as I cried, something fierce and protective blazed to life inside me. This child was innocent. Pure. The product of true love, not political maneuvering.
I would not let Cassian steal that. I would not let him poison or murder my baby the way he'd murdered Mireille's.
Somehow, some way, I would protect what Darius and I had created.
Even if it killed me.
A soft knock at the door interrupted my vow. "Your Majesty?" Helena called. "His Majesty has sent the royal physician. He wishes to examine your health."
My blood turned to ice. It was starting. The tests. The examinations. The slow, methodical discovery of my secret.
"Tell him I'm not feeling well," I called back.
"I'm sorry, Your Majesty. The king insists."
Of course he did.
I stood on shaking legs and smoothed down my dress. The physician would know. One examination, and Cassian would have his proof.
But I had to try to hide it. Had to protect this precious life for as long as possible.
"Send him in," I said.
The door opened, and my heart sank. The royal physician was an old man, experienced and thorough. If anyone could detect an early pregnancy, it was him.
"Your Majesty." He bowed deeply. "The king is concerned about your health. He's asked me to conduct a complete examination."
Complete. That meant everything. Including the one thing that would condemn us all.
"I'm feeling much better today," I lied.
"Nevertheless, the king insists." His eyes were kind but determined. "If you'll lie down on the bed, please."
I had no choice. I lay back on the silk coverlet and closed my eyes, praying to the Moon Goddess for a miracle.
The physician's hands were gentle but thorough. He checked my pulse, my breathing, my reflexes. When his hands moved to my abdomen, I stopped breathing entirely.
He pressed and prodded, his face grave with concentration. After what felt like an eternity, he stepped back.
"Well?" I whispered.
He studied my face for a long moment. "You're under considerable stress, Your Majesty. That much is clear. I recommend rest, proper nutrition, and limited social obligations."
My heart hammered. "That's all?"
"For now." His eyes held something I couldn't read. "Though I will need to examine you again in a few weeks. To ensure your... stress... isn't developing into something more serious."
He knew. I could see it in his eyes. But for reasons of his own, he was keeping silent.
For now.
After he left, I curled up on my bed and pressed my hand to my stomach, feeling that tiny flutter of life.
"Hold on, little one," I whispered. "Just a little longer."
But I could feel time running out like sand through an hourglass.
Soon, very soon, there would be no hiding the truth.