Chapter 14: The Edge of the Terrace

“Please take some rest, Miss. We will call for you once dinner is prepared.”

Thraia opened the massive double doors and stepped aside, bowing her head to allow me passage. By then, I no longer had the strength to protest every unnecessary gesture of respect thrown in my direction. Ever since I woke inside this mansion, every servant had treated me as though I were someone delicate enough to be handled under strict command, and every single courtesy always came attached to the same invisible chain, Reign’s authority.

I gave her a small nod and entered without another word.

The room welcomed me with the same suffocating luxury I had left earlier. Cream sheets stretched over the enormous bed, the golden curtains hung motionless over the glass doors, and the polished floor gleamed beneath the muted afternoon light filtering through the room. Once the doors shut behind me and Thraia’s footsteps faded away, silence folded itself around me, and for the first time since lunch, I was alone.

I exhaled deeply.

Judging by the softened light behind the curtains, the day had already advanced. It had to be late afternoon, perhaps a little past three. I walked toward the bed and lowered myself onto the edge, allowing my body to sink into the absurd softness of the mattress. Even after the bath, the food, and the hours of being led around this mansion, I still did not feel fully well. My head throbbed lightly whenever I moved too fast, and there was still a lingering heaviness in my limbs that ordinary exhaustion could not explain.

Reign’s words from earlier returned to me.

He had mentioned drugs.

At that time I had been too occupied with anger and confusion to dwell on it, but now that I was finally still, the details began fitting together too neatly to ignore. The dizziness I felt in that dark room, the strange weakness while being dragged toward the auction hall, the sudden inability to keep my eyes open, and the way my body had betrayed me at every crucial moment all pointed to one ugly truth. Someone had put something into my system before displaying me there like merchandise.

The thought made my stomach tighten.

I slowly lay back against the bed and stared at the golden ceiling above me. Then another question intruded.

My clothes.

When I woke in this room earlier, I was no longer wearing the black lingerie they had forced onto me at the auction. Instead, there had been a loose polo shirt covering my body. My face warmed instantly at the realization I had avoided thinking about all day.

Someone had changed me.

I sat halfway up, then immediately groaned and pressed my fingers to my temples. It could not have been Reign. A man like him had an army of servants breathing under his orders. There was no practical reason for him to personally touch an unconscious woman just to replace her clothes. And yet, annoyingly enough, my mind still produced the image before I could stop it, his large hands lifting fabric, his cold expression leaning over me, his blue eyes studying me while I slept.

I shook my head hard.

“This house is destroying my brain,” I muttered under my breath.

Perhaps it was the leftover weakness from whatever had been used on me, or perhaps the room was simply too quiet and too comfortable for my body to resist, but sleepiness began creeping over me before I could continue thinking. My eyelids grew heavy, and after only a few more moments of staring blankly upward, I surrendered and drifted into sleep.

I woke to a gentle tap on my shoulder.

Opening my eyes, I found Thraia standing beside the bed with her usual composed posture.

“It is time for dinner, Miss. I apologize for waking you.”

I pushed myself upright and rubbed the sleep from my eyes. “That is fine.”

She waited in silence while I stood and adjusted the folds of my dress. Only then did I realize I had fallen asleep without even removing my shoes. I smoothed my hair with my fingers, stepped down from the bed, and walked out through the already opened doors. This time I did not wait for her to lead me. I had memorized enough of the route to the dining hall, and every hallway I remembered felt like one less advantage this house had over me.

Thraia followed several steps behind.

We descended the long staircase in silence, crossed the polished corridor, and approached the dining hall where the double doors opened at once. Just as before, the maids were lined up on both sides like silent figures carved into the mansion itself. I walked straight toward the marble table.

Dinner was arranged as lavishly as lunch had been. Different dishes occupied nearly every inch of the center, crystal glasses reflected the yellow glow of the pendant lights above us, and the mirror on the wall threw back my own image in the pale blue chiffon dress they had chosen for me. I caught sight of my knees beneath the table and noticed how faintly pink they had turned from the cold.

Whether the chill came from relentless air conditioning or from the unnatural height of this mansion, I did not know. I only knew I was not made for this kind of polished freezing elegance. I came from open windows, electric fans, and afternoons sticky with heat.

I took my seat and glanced around.

Elliott was nowhere in sight.

Only maids.

One of them approached carrying a glass pitcher filled with green liquid and poured some into the goblet in front of me.

“Where is Elliott?” I asked.

“Sir Elliott is still occupied outside, Miss,” she answered softly before bowing and stepping away.

So I would be eating alone.

That was better.

I needed silence more than company tonight.

I forced myself to eat enough to keep my strength stable, though my mind was nowhere near the food. Every bite passed without taste because all my thoughts had narrowed into one thing. Tonight, I would leave this place.

Not plan.

Not imagine.

Leave.

I watched the servants while pretending to focus on dinner, noting where they stood, how many remained near the exits, and how quickly they moved whenever something was needed. By the time I finished, my nervousness had transformed into a thin, cold resolve.

After dinner I requested fresh air on the terrace.

They agreed, but as expected, two maids followed me and stationed themselves near the glass doors once I stepped outside.

Night had changed the terrace completely. The grass beneath my shoes looked darker under the soft pendant lights fixed at each corner, and beyond the railing, the sea had become a black endless movement hidden under the sky. Only the sound of waves and the rushing wind gave proof that the ocean was still there.

I walked slowly toward the iron railing and rested both hands on it before leaning forward. My eyes searched the darkness below, adjusting little by little until shapes began emerging from the shadows. The lower grounds were not entirely invisible. I could distinguish the crowns of tall trees moving under the wind, jagged portions of stone along the side of the mansion, and what appeared to be lower platforms extending from parts of the structure. The height was enough to make my stomach tighten, but the longer I stared, the clearer one fact became. This was not a smooth empty drop. There were irregular surfaces beneath that might interrupt a fall, edges that could be caught, and enough protruding structures to offer a slim possibility of survival if I was careful or incredibly lucky. It was reckless, horribly dangerous, and probably the kind of plan a desperate woman would invent when left with no proper doors to freedom, but it was still a possibility, and possibility was all I had.

I slowly looked back at the two maids.

Both stood near the glass doors with lowered heads, silent but attentive enough that they would immediately react if I made one wrong move.

I needed them away from me.

Taking a quiet breath, I turned and walked toward them at an unhurried pace. They straightened slightly the moment I approached.

“Can I ask a favor?” I said.

The two exchanged a quick glance before one of them answered, “Yes, Miss?”

I kept my face calm, though my pulse had begun hammering hard against my ribs. If this worked, I would have my chance. If they left me alone for even a minute, I could climb that railing before anyone returned, and after that, there would be no room left for fear.

Because I had already decided.

I would rather throw myself into the unknown dark below than remain here waiting for Reign to return and close every remaining path I still had to freedom.