Chapter 25
902 Words
Vivian’s POV
By the next afternoon, Kade thought I was ready to leave the room.
“The Alpha wants you to move around,” he said. “Light activity. Nothing strenuous.”
I didn’t believe Dominic had said that. But I didn’t argue. I was really tired of looking at the same four walls.
The corridors were busy. Warriors moved between the training grounds and the tower. Servants carried water and wood. No one paid attention to me at first. Then the word spread.
The Solari girl. The one who poisoned the soldiers.
I felt the shift in the air like a change in temperature.
A warrior I didn’t recognize deliberately stepped into my path, forcing me to stop. He didn’t touch me. Just stood there, his eyes hard, making it clear as day that he wanted me gone.
I went around him.
Kade’s hand came down on my shoulder, a quiet reminder that he was there.
We made it to the kitchen.
The moment we walked through the doors, conversations stopped. Three servants near the fire looked up, saw me, and quickly looked away. An older woman chopping vegetables put her knife down with deliberate care.
“The girl shouldn’t be in here,” she said. Not loud. Not angry. Just a statement of fact.
“The Alpha cleared it,” Kade said calmly.
“The Alpha isn’t in here,” the woman replied.
Kade and I got our food which was bread, fish, and broth. We sat at a small table against the wall. I could feel the stares. Could hear the whispered conversations that stopped whenever I looked up.
A warrior at another table was talking to his friend.
“How many do you think actually died?” he asked.
“Seven, I heard. Maybe eight.”
“All because she was careless with the water.”
“She poisoned it on purpose,” another voice said. “The
Alpha barely punished her. Five lashes for seven deaths?”
I didn’t eat much.
Kade didn’t try to make me. He just finished his food and waited until I was ready to leave.
As we stood to go, I caught sight of a younger servant girl watching us. She had dark hair pulled back tight and nervous eyes. When our eyes met, she quickly looked away.
But not before I saw something in that look.
Sympathy.
We were walking back toward my room when the girl appeared.
“Wait,” she called out, coming down the corridor quickly. She was breathing hard like she’d been running.
Kade’s hand went to his sword, but she held up both hands.
“I’m not here to hurt her,” the girl said. “I just wanted to… I heard them talking. In the kitchen. I heard what they said, and I wanted you to know…”
She trailed off, glancing around to make sure no one else was in the corridor.
“Know what?” I asked.
“That they’re lying,” she said. “About how many died. About what happened. I heard the healers talking. Only two soldiers died. The others recovered. But people keep saying seven, eight, ten even. They’re making up numbers.”
“Why are you telling me this?” I asked.
“ Because it’s not fair,” she said simply. “Because I know you didn’t do it. I heard the Alpha talking to his Spymaster about a tool. About how someone cut open the barrel. About how you couldn’t have done that.”
Kade was watching her carefully, but his hand had relaxed.
“I’m Mira,” she said. “I work in the library, mostly. I help organize the books.”
“Why are you risking this?” I asked. “Telling me all this. The other servants will know you helped me.”
“Let them know,” she said. “Someone should.”
After Kade left me at my room, I sat on the bed and thought about what Mira had said.
The numbers were lies. The story everyone believed was a fabrication. And somewhere in this Citadel, someone had deliberately put a rat in the water barrels, knowing it would poison the soldiers, knowing I would be blamed.
Knowing I would be whipped for it.
The bond stirred. Dominic was angry about something. The kind of anger that came from discovery. From understanding something he wished he didn’t.
There was a knock at my door.
I didn’t respond, so whoever it was knocked again.
“Come in,” I said finally.
It was Mira, carrying a stack of books.
“I brought you these,” she said. “To distract you. Or just to have something to do besides think about how much the world sucks.”
She placed the books on the small table and turned to leave.
“Mira,” I said.
She stopped.
“Thank you,” I said, my heart filled with gratitude. If I was told few days back that I would encounter someone who wouldn’t hate my guts so much, I would have laughed my stomach out. But I did, and I’m very grateful.
She nodded once and left without saying anything else.
I picked up the top book and opened it.
The first page was blank. On the second page, in handwriting that wasn’t the author’s, was a single sentence: You’re not alone in this.
- Writer
