The realization should have terrified me. Instead, it settled into my bones with strange certainty, like recognizing a truth I'd always known but never named.
"You."
The word cut through my introspection. I kept my eyes lowered, sure I'd imagined it, sure no one would address a servant directly in this charged atmosphere.
"The one by the wall. Look at me."
The command carried no Alpha compulsion, yet my head lifted as if pulled by invisible strings. My gaze locked with eyes the color of winter sky, pale blue-gray, coldly assessing, yet burning with intelligence that stripped away pretense.
He sat at the head table, apart from the others, observing rather than participating. Unlike the other Alphas who still vibrated with barely contained response to the omega's scent, he appeared utterly composed, not a hair out of place. Dark clothes cut with precision against pale skin. Features that might have been carved from marble, high cheekbones, straight nose, lips pressed into a line of concentration.
Prince Silas Draven. The court manipulator whose name was spoken in whispers even in servant quarters.
His eyes narrowed as he studied me, head tilting slightly as if confronted with an unexpected puzzle. I should have looked away, every instinct screamed to drop my gaze, to remember my place, but I remained frozen, caught in an assessment that felt like being taken apart piece by piece.
Something passed across his face, too quick to name. Interest? Recognition? Whatever it was, it made my chest tighten with an emotion I couldn't identify, halfway between fear and something far more dangerous.
Then Lady Morvane was beside me, materializing as if summoned by my exposure. Her fingers dug into my arm with bruising force, nails breaking skin even through the fabric of my sleeve.
"Forgive the intrusion, Your Highness," she said, her voice honeyed even as her grip turned vicious. "The girl is simple. She doesn't understand proper etiquette."
Prince Silas didn't acknowledge her. His gaze remained fixed on me, probing, assessing. "What's your name?" he asked, the question directed at me despite Lady Morvane's presence.
Before I could respond, or even before I could decide whether to respond, Lady Morvane answered for me. "She's no one of consequence, Your Highness. Just a charity case from a distant branch of our family. Mute, unfortunately."
The lie was smooth, practiced. I'd heard variations of it whenever visitors came too close to discovering my existence. Yet something in Prince Silas's expression suggested he didn't believe it for a second.
"Is that so?" he murmured, gaze never leaving my face. "How curious that a mute servant should have such... presence."
Lady Morvane's grip became desperate, fingers trembling against my arm. For the first time in my memory, I saw fear in the set of her shoulders, the tight line of her mouth. Not the calculated anxiety she sometimes performed, but genuine terror.
"She needs to return to her duties," Lady Morvane said. "The kitchen staff will be looking for her."
Prince Silas smiled, a small movement of lips that didn't touch his eyes. "Of course," he said, finally looking away. "Another time, perhaps."
Lady Morvane didn't wait for further dismissal. She pulled me from the room with such force I nearly lost my footing, the empty tray pressing against my chest. She didn't speak until wereached a deserted corridor, where she slammed me against the wall with strength I hadn't known she possessed.
"What did you do?" she hissed, face inches from mine, breath sour with fear. "What did he see?"
"Nothing," I whispered, the word rough in my throat. "I served as instructed. I didn't speak."
"He noticed you. Nobody notices you unless you allow it." Her hand moved to my throat, pressing just hard enough to threaten. "If you've ruined everything, after all I've done to keep you hidden?—"
"I didn't do anything," I insisted, fighting to keep my voice steady. "He just... looked at me."
Lady Morvane's eyes searched mine, hunting for lies. Finding none, her grip loosened slightly. "We're leaving. Now. Before anyone else decides to take an interest in my silent, simple servant."
As she dragged me toward the exit, I cast one glance back toward the dining hall. Through the doorway, I caught a final glimpse of Prince Silas. He hadn't moved, hadn't returned to the conversations around him.
He was watching the doorway. Watching me.
CHAPTER 3
The morning after the auction, Lady Morvane's fingers circled my wrist like iron manacles, her grip painful but necessary, in her mind, to keep me tethered to reality. To keep me invisible. The suppressants churned in my bloodstream, heavier than usual, a precaution after last night's near-disaster. My thoughts moved like creatures trapped in amber, slow and struggling, but beneath that chemical fog, something restless pulsed and pushed.
"You will observe and remain silent," Lady Morvane instructed, her words precise and cold as we moved through streets I should have recognized but didn't. "Consider this an education in consequence."
I knew what she meant… that she was showing me the price of being noticed, of catching a prince's eye. She wanted to frighten me with the world I'd never have, the power I could never touch. Strange, how she thought witnessing freedom would make me crave captivity more.
