Chapter 11: A House Built Like a Cage

“Can I go outside?”

“No, Miss.”

I stared at Thraia from the single European couch where I had been seated for the past half hour, trying to maintain patience that was quickly thinning. She stood a few feet in front of me with both hands folded in front of her apron and her head lowered in the same respectful angle she seemed to keep permanently whenever addressing me.

“Why not?”

“It is the Master’s order.”

Of course it was.

I swallowed my irritation and tried another route. “Then lend me a laptop, a cellphone, or at least a telephone. I need to call someone.”

Thraia shook her head almost immediately. “Calling anyone outside the island is the most prohibited among all of the Master’s instructions. If you wish to contact someone, you must wait until he returns.”

The island.

The word settled heavily inside me, confirming what Letty had almost revealed earlier. I was not merely trapped inside a mansion. I was trapped on an island controlled by a man whose orders seemed to reach every hallway, every servant, every locked possibility. The realization made my chest tighten, but I forced my face to remain blank.

Thraia bowed again. “If you will excuse me, Miss.”

I looked at her for a few seconds, hoping some trace of pity might crack through that obedient exterior, but there was nothing. She was too trained, too careful, or perhaps simply too frightened to offer me even the smallest act of rebellion.

“Go ahead,” I said at last.

She turned and walked toward the double doors. I kept my eyes on her retreating figure until she disappeared from sight and the doors shut behind her. The second I heard the lock click into place, I stood.

Moving quickly across the room, I went straight to the vast glass wall covered by thick European curtains. I pulled one side open, and a flood of brilliant afternoon sunlight poured over me. Beyond the transparent glass stretched a wide expanse of blue ocean, bright and endless beneath the clear sky. The tiny waves glittered under the heat, rolling lazily toward the shore like nothing in the world had ever been wrong.

It was beautiful enough to make ordinary people stand still and admire.

I only felt mocked by it.

The outside world was right there, dazzling and alive, while I remained sealed behind expensive glass like an exhibit no one intended to release. Even so, seeing the ocean helped anchor me. It reminded me that the world still existed beyond these walls. Roads still stretched somewhere. People still worked, talked, called each other, and lived without knowing that I had vanished into this absurd prison. If life continued outside, then there had to be a path back to it. I only needed to find where Reign had hidden the gate.

My hand rested against the cool glass while my mind began arranging itself around one conclusion. No one here would help me. The maids feared him too much. Letty had already warned me. Elliott smiled too easily to be trusted. Depending on anyone inside this mansion would only make me slower. Whatever I planned would have to come from me alone.

I let the curtain fall back into place and turned around, forcing myself to examine the room with a sharper purpose. Earlier I had only noticed how expensive everything looked, but now I searched for usefulness. Four elegant single couches surrounded a low center table, and opposite the windows stood a giant black piano polished enough to mirror the ceiling lights. Decorative areca palms occupied the corners, while golden lamps and framed paintings filled the remaining spaces. It was all luxurious, all carefully selected, and all entirely useless to someone trying to escape.

I moved around the room, opening drawers, checking side tables, glancing over every visible surface in search of anything I could use later. Something sharp, something heavy, even something as simple as a hidden phone would have been enough to make me feel less helpless, but the room offered nothing except expensive decoration and too much empty floor.

I was near the piano when the double doors opened.

I turned immediately.

Elliott stepped inside wearing another outfit that looked as though several different closets had lost a fight. A white sleeveless shirt sat beneath a black blazer, paired with white knee-length shorts and black-and-white sneakers. It was astonishing that a man who had the face of a magazine model consistently dressed like he was participating in a personal dare.

His grin widened when he saw me standing there.

“You look magnificent.”

He spread both arms as he walked toward me as though expecting some dramatic reunion, but I merely watched him approach.

“I have a name,” I said. “And if you intend to keep greeting me like that, at least put your hands down. You look ridiculous.”

He lowered his arms but did not stop smiling. “You wound me. I was being welcoming.”

“You were being strange.”

“That too.”

He stopped in front of me and looked me over with open appreciation. “Still, I was not lying. You look gorgeous.”

I glanced down at the light blue chiffon dress Letty’s maids had forced me into. Compared to the other gowns in that monstrous dressing room, this had been the simplest one I could find, but the softness of the fabric alone already made me nervous to touch it too carelessly.

“I do not need your sarcasm.”

Elliott placed one hand over his chest in mock offense. “Woman, that was sincere.”

I rolled my eyes. “I chose the least expensive-looking dress.”

“That explains why you look personally offended by your own beauty.”

I narrowed my eyes at him, but he only chuckled and stepped closer, circling me once like some absurd fashion critic. When he returned in front of me, his expression shifted into something almost thoughtful.

“There were dozens of dresses prepared only for you,” he said. “Yet you picked the safest one.”

“Why would I wear clothes that look like they belong to queens? This is already too much.”

He studied me for another second before lifting his hand toward my face. I stiffened but did not move fast enough to stop him. His fingers brushed the loose strands of hair away from my left eye and tucked them neatly behind my ear. The gesture was harmless enough, yet the casual intimacy of it caught me off guard. Before I could step back, he leaned close enough that his breath skimmed the shell of my ear.

“Everything here was chosen for you,” he murmured.

The warm breath that followed sent an involuntary shiver through me.

I jumped back and glared at him.

He burst into loud laughter.

“You are an awful person,” I snapped, rubbing my ear as though I could erase the sensation.

He kept laughing, shoulders shaking with far too much enjoyment. “Forgive me, but your reaction was worth shortening my life.”

“My reaction would be even better if I strangled you.”

“That is the spirit.”

I stared at him in disbelief while he slowly calmed down. Between him and Reign, I was beginning to think this family had been manufactured solely to test my sanity.

Elliott finally extended one hand toward me, his grin settling into something more manageable.

“What now?” I asked suspiciously.

“I am escorting you to the dining hall.”

I looked at his hand, then at his face. “Do I look incapable of walking?”

“No, but if I do not bring you personally, every maid in this house will panic that I misplaced the Master’s favorite guest.”

I did not know whether to be annoyed by the title or alarmed by it, but arguing would only keep me standing in the same room learning nothing. After a long exhale, I placed my hand in his.

“Fine,” I said. “Lead the way.”

If I wanted to understand this mansion well enough to leave it, then walking through it beside one of its loudest residents was better than being locked in silence.