Cast Out Crowned By Fate

CHAPTER FOUR: A NAME WITHOUT A PAST

The knock came just after noon.

It was soft, two measured taps against the door, but in the quiet of the flat, it sounded louder than it should have.

Eliza stiffened instantly, her gaze flew to Alexander. He didn’t react, at least, not outwardly.

But she noticed the slight shift in his posture, the way his shoulders straightened just a fraction, the calm alertness that settled over him like a second skin.

“You’re expecting someone?” she asked quietly. “No.” He responded

Another knock, this time, a little firmer. Eliza’s heart began to race. “I shouldn’t be here,” she whispered, instinctively stepping back. “What if it’s someone who knows you? What if they…”

“Relax,” Alexander said, his tone even. “No one who comes here expects anything.” That didn’t sound reassuring, at all.

He walked toward the door with unhurried steps, as though nothing about this moment was unusual. As though her panic wasn’t justified.

Eliza hovered near the edge of the room, her fingers curling tightly against her sides.

The lock clicked, the door opened. A woman stood on the other side.

She was older, late fifties, perhaps early sixties, with sharp eyes softened by a kind face. Her gray-streaked hair was neatly tied back, and she carried a small bag in one hand.

Her gaze swept past Alexander almost immediately… and landed on Eliza.

There was no shock, no judgment, just quiet understanding. “Ah,” the woman said gently. “She’s awake.”

Eliza blinked. Alexander stepped aside slightly. “Come in.” The woman entered with the ease of someone familiar with the space, setting her bag down on the table before turning fully toward Eliza.

“You gave us quite a scare last night,” she said.

“Us?” Eliza glanced at Alexander briefly, then back at the woman. “You… helped me?”

“I did,” she nodded. “You were burning up with fever, completely soaked through. It’s a wonder you didn’t collapse sooner.”

Eliza felt a flush of embarrassment creep up her neck. “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to cause trouble.”

“Nonsense,” the woman said with a small wave of her hand. “If anything, you gave this one a reason to knock on my door at midnight.” She cast Alexander a knowing look.

He didn’t respond, didn’t even react. Which somehow made it more telling.

“I’m Mrs. Bennett,” the woman continued, turning back to Eliza. “I live just down the hall.”

“Eliza,” she replied softly. “Thank you… for helping me.”

Mrs. Bennett smiled. “You’ve thanked me already, last night, in your sleep. Repeatedly.”

Eliza’s eyes widened slightly. “I did?”

“Yes,” she chuckled. “Along with a few apologies and something about not wanting to lose your baby.”

Eliza’s hand instinctively moved to her stomach again, a familiar gesture now, one that didn’t go unnoticed.

Mrs. Bennett’s expression softened further. “How far along are you, dear?” Eliza hesitated. “Almost seven months.”

The older woman nodded thoughtfully. “That explains the exhaustion, and the risk.”

“Risk?” Eliza repeated, her voice tightening. Mrs. Bennett glanced briefly at Alexander, then back at her.

“You’ve been under a great deal of stress,” she said carefully. “Physical and emotional. At this stage, that’s not something to take lightly.”

Eliza swallowed. “I’ve been managing,” she said quietly. Mrs. Bennett raised an eyebrow. “Have you?”

Eliza didn’t answer, because she knew the truth. No, she hadn’t, not really.

“I came to check on you,” Mrs. Bennett continued gently. “And to make sure you’re eating properly.”

“She is,” Alexander said. Mrs. Bennett gave him a look. “You’re not exactly the best judge of that.”

A faint pause. Then… “I’m learning,” he replied. Eliza glanced between them, something curious stirring in her chest.

There was familiarity there, not just neighborly, something deeper.

“How long have you known each other?” she asked. Mrs. Bennett smiled slightly. “Long enough to know he doesn’t usually bring strangers home.”

Eliza’s gaze shifted to Alexander, he didn’t deny it, didn’t confirm it either. Just stood there, as unreadable as ever.

“Well,” Mrs. Bennett said, clapping her hands lightly, “that makes you special, doesn’t it?” Eliza flushed. “I don’t think that’s the word I’d use.”

“Maybe not,” the woman agreed. “But it’s the truth.”

Silence followed.

Then Mrs. Bennett reached into her bag. “I brought a few things,” she said, pulling out neatly folded clothes. “They’re not new, but they’re clean and comfortable.”

Eliza stared at them, caught off guard. “I can’t take these,” she said quickly. “You can,” Mrs. Bennett replied just as quickly. “And you will.”

“I don’t want to impose…”

“You’re not imposing,” the woman said firmly. “You’re accepting help. There’s a difference.”

Eliza hesitated. Her pride flared briefly, stubbornly. But it didn’t last, because pride didn’t keep you warm, didn’t feed you, didn’t protect your child.

“Thank you,” she said finally, her voice soft. Mrs. Bennett nodded, satisfied. “Good. Now, I’d like to check on you properly, if that’s alright.” Eliza blinked. “Check on me?”

“I used to be a nurse,” she explained. “Old habits don’t die easily.” Relief washed over Eliza so quickly it almost made her dizzy.

A nurse. Someone who knew what they were doing, someone who could tell her if everything was really okay.

“I… I’d appreciate that,” she admitted. “Good,” Mrs. Bennett said warmly. “Come, sit.”

The examination was simple, but thorough. Mrs. Bennett’s hands were gentle, practiced, her movements efficient yet careful.

Eliza sat quietly, answering questions as best as she could. Her diet, her sleeps, her stress levels.

Each answer seemed to deepen the older woman’s concern.

“You’ve been pushing yourself too hard,” she said finally, stepping back. “Your body is strong, but it’s not invincible.”

“I didn’t have a choice,” Eliza murmured. “There’s always a choice,” Mrs. Bennett replied softly. “It’s just that some are harder than others.”

Eliza looked down. “I’m okay now,” she said.

Mrs. Bennett studied her for a moment. “Thanks to him,” she said, nodding toward Alexander.

Eliza followed her gaze. He stood near the door now, arms loosely folded, watching them both. Still quiet, still observant, still… impossible to read.

“Yes,” Eliza said after a moment. “Thanks to him.” Their eyes met briefly. Something unspoken passed between them, then it was gone.

Later, after Mrs. Bennett had left, the flat felt quieter than before, but not empty, not cold.

Eliza sat on the edge of the bed, folding the clothes she had been given. Her movements were slow, thoughtful.

“You trust her,” she said suddenly. Alexander glanced at her. “Yes.”

“That’s rare for you, isn’t it?” He didn’t answer immediately. Then… “Yes.”

Eliza nodded slightly. “I can see why,” she added. “She’s kind.”

“She’s practical,” he corrected.

“That too.”

Silence settled again. Then… “What about you?” she asked.

“What about me?”

“Who do you trust?”

The question lingered. Alexander didn’t respond right away. When he did, his voice was quieter.

“Very few people.”

“Why?”

“Because trust,” he said, “is usually misplaced.” Eliza frowned slightly. “That sounds… lonely.”

“It’s efficient.” He said. She shook her head. “It’s sad.” A faint shift crossed his expression. “Not everyone needs the same things,” he said.

“Everyone needs someone,” she countered.

Their eyes met again, this time, neither looked away immediately. There was something in that moment, something fragile, something dangerous.

Eliza broke it first. “What about your family?” she asked. “Do you trust them?”

A pause. Then… “No.”

The answer was immediate, certain, final. It surprised her.

“You don’t?” she asked softly. “No.”

“Why not?” She asked further. His gaze hardened slightly. “That’s not something you need to know.”

There it was again, the wall, the line she wasn’t allowed to cross.

Eliza exhaled slowly. “You said I shouldn’t ask questions I’m not ready to hear answers to.”

“And are you ready?”

She hesitated, then shook her head. “Not yet,” she admitted.

He nodded once. “Good.”

That evening, as the light outside faded into dusk, Eliza stood by the window again.

The city looked different now, less hostile, less overwhelming. Maybe it was the warmth behind her, maybe it was the food in her stomach, or maybe… it was the fact that, for the first time in days, she didn’t feel completely alone.

Her hand rested lightly on her stomach. “We’re going to be okay,” she whispered.

Behind her, Alexander watched in silence. There was something about her, something he hadn’t expected.

Strength, not loud, not obvious, but it was there. Unyielding.

He turned slightly, his gaze drifting to the door Mrs. Bennett had exited through earlier.

Then back to Eliza. “This changes things,” he murmured under his breath.

Because it did, more than she knew, more than he intended.

Eliza turned suddenly. “Did you say something?” Alexander shook his head. “No.”

She studied him for a moment, unconvinced. But she didn’t press, not this time. Instead, she smiled faintly, a small, quiet thing, but real.

And for reasons he didn’t fully understand… Alexander found himself watching her just a second longer than necessary.

Somewhere deep within him, a thought surfaced. Unwelcome, unexpected, unavoidable. She wasn’t just a complication anymore, she was becoming something else.

Something far more dangerous.