SEVEN

The following morning, Eliza woke with a single thought pressing firmly at the front of her mind.

She needed to leave.

Not eventually. Not after she had adjusted. As soon as possible.

She had thought she could manage in the palace but not anymore. Especially not after she clearly realized what she’d gotten herself into.

The mere thought of living there for the rest of her life was suffocating. Suffocating in a way she couldn’t quite put into words.

She got dressed as usual but this time, skipped breakfast. Food was the last thing on her mind when her thoughts were already racing ahead, searching for possibilities. There had to be a way out. A place less guarded. A door no one paid attention to.

She slipped out of her room and into the halls, forcing herself to walk at a measured pace. She couldn’t afford to look suspicious, even if she felt it. The palace stretched endlessly around her, its corridors lined with tall windows and heavy doors, each one appearing more secure than the last.

She moved without direction at first, letting observation guide her. Guards stood at the main entrances, exactly where she expected them. Servants moved through certain areas, but never freely enough to suggest a lack of oversight. Every visible exit was accounted for.

Still, she kept walking.There had to be something.

She turned into a quieter hallway, one that seemed less used, and slowed as she studied it. Fewer windows. Narrower passage. Less traffic. If there was a secondary exit anywhere, it would be somewhere like this—

“Eliza?”

She immediately froze. Turning, she found Rebecca behind her, watching her with a composed, curious expression that immediately made her aware of how she must appear.

“What are you doing here?” Rebecca asked.

“Hi, good morning,” Eliza offered a small, controlled smile. “Just looking around. I haven’t really had the chance to explore yet.”

“Explore,” Rebecca repeated, as though weighing the word.

“It’s a big place,” Eliza added lightly. Then, as if the thought had only just occurred to her, she asked, “Is there a back door somewhere? Or a less obvious exit?”

Rebecca’s brows lifted slightly. “A back door?”

Eliza bit her lip then quickly let out a soft laugh, shrugging. “Not for anything dramatic. I’m just curious about the architecture. Places like this usually have hidden passages, don’t they?”

There was a pause—brief, but noticeable. Eliza tried to keep her eyes on everything but Rebecca, doing her best to look as natural as possible.

“Yes,” Rebecca finally replied with a smile on her face. For a second, Eliza blinked, certain she had never seen Rebecca smile at her. “They do.”

Something about how easily she answered unsettled Eliza, but she kept her expression neutral as Rebecca gestured for her to follow.

“Come,” Rebecca said. “I’ll show you something.”

Eliza hesitated for only a moment before following.

They moved deeper into the palace, away from the more active areas, until the air itself seemed quieter. Eventually, Rebecca stopped in front of what appeared to be an ordinary wall.

“For emergencies,” she said casually. “Here we are.”

Her hand pressed against a section of the wall, and with a faint, almost imperceptible sound, it shifted.

Eliza’s breath caught. It was a hidden passage.

“This leads outside,” Rebecca continued, stepping aside. “It isn’t commonly used, but it exists for situations where discretion is necessary.”

“Discretion,” Eliza echoed.

Rebecca’s gaze flicked to hers, something unreadable passing through it. “Yes.”

Eliza stepped closer, studying the narrow, dim passage. It was just wide enough for one person to pass through, unremarkable at first glance—but it was enough. More than enough.

“If someone needed to leave without being seen,” Rebecca added, almost thoughtfully, “this would be the way.”

Eliza nodded slowly, masking the sharp focus building in her mind.

“Interesting,” she said lightly. “I thought there might be something like this.”

Rebecca watched her for a moment longer before closing the passage, sealing it seamlessly back into the wall.

“Well,” she said, “now you’ve seen it.”

“Yeah, I have,” Eliza replied with a chuckle. “Wow, it’s really cool. I can’t believe I get to live in such a cool palace. I’m really lucky, am I not?”

“Of course you are,” Rebecca raised her brows then nodded. “You’re a very lucky girl.”

Eliza managed to smile but Rebecca didn’t stick around to catch it. She immediately turned around and walked in the opposite direction, leaving Eliza alone to do whatever extra exploring she needed to.

She didn’t need any more though. With the knowledge of the secret passage, Eliza was more than fulfilled. And by the time she got back to her room, her plan had already formed.

Tomorrow.

She would leave tomorrow.

The decision settled into her with a strange mix of relief and unease. It felt almost too simple, which made her wary, but she pushed that thought aside. Doubt would only slow her down.

She stepped into her room, a smile appearing on her face for the first time in days. It didn’t last long though, the smile immediately disappearing the second she took her first step in.

“You’re back.”

Alaric was leaning next to her bed, his eyes on her like he’d been impatiently counting down to the moment she arrived. He folded his arms, watching her subconsciously take a step backward as they locked gazes.

“Where were you?”

“Just around,” she chose her replies carefully. “Giving the palace a tour. It’s really huge.”

“That’s one thing about it,” he nodded and moved closer towards her. “I left abruptly yesterday. I had something to attend to immediately.”

Eliza nodded. His absence had given her enough time to come to a conclusion so she didn’t mind. “It’s fine.”

He held her gaze for a moment, as if measuring her response, before stepping forward and placing a bowl she didn’t realize was present all her long on the table.

“I was told you didn’t eat this morning,” he said, gesturing at the bowl containing all sorts of fruits neatly sliced.

“I wasn’t hungry.”

“That’s irrelevant.”

“What?”

“You still need to eat,” he continued,his tone firm. “You’re not just responsible for yourself anymore.”

The implication settled heavily between them. “Sure. I’ll eat.”l

“Then do it now.”

Eliza immediately frowned. “Now?”

“Yes, now,” he nodded, shifting the bowl closer toward her. “In my presence.”

There was no force in his voice, yet the quiet insistence made refusal difficult. Eliza exhaled and stared at the fruits, struggling to actually find an appetite.

“Or is there something you prefer?”

The question caught her off guard. She looked up at him to catch him staring at her, his brows furrowed.

For a moment, she didn’t answer. He must have noticed her hesitation and misunderstood it as her not liking the fruits he brought.

“I-“ she began but hesitated. The bowl contained apples, avocados, oranges, berries, watermelon— honestly, it was impossible for her to hate it. But at the thought of fruits, her thoughts drifted, uninvited, to a memory she hadn’t expected.

Harold. And the way he used to insist on mangoes, always the ripest ones, their deep green leaves still clinging to the stems as if they had just been picked.

“Yes,” she said finally. “Yes, actually.”

“Then say it.”

“Mangoes.”

Alaric nodded once. “I’ll have it brought to you tomorrow.”

“What?” She looked up at met his eyes. God, those green eyes.

His gaze shifted to the fruit in her hand. “For now, you’ll eat what’s here.”

She didn’t argue again. She simply took a bite, aware of the silence that settled between them.

His gaze remained on her—not intense, not overtly intrusive, but steady enough to be felt. It lingered in a way that made her aware of every movement, every breath, every small shift in posture.

It unsettled her more than she wanted to admit. She shifted slightly, trying to ignore it with another bite of the fruit. Then another. And another. Until she suddenly choked on it.

The fruit caught in her throat, the reaction immediate and sharp as she coughed, struggling to breathe properly.

Before she could react, Alaric rushed and positioned himself right in front of her.

“Eliza!”

His hand pressed against her back, firm but controlled as he guided her forward. She coughed again, her vision blurring slightly as his hand moved in a steady rhythm against her back, grounding her through the moment.

Slowly,” he said, his voice lower now. “Calm down and breathe.”

Gradually, the tightness eased. Her breathing steadied, and the coughing subsided until she could straighten again.

“I’m fine,” she managed to breathe out, her voice rough. “Thank you. I’m fine now.”

His hand lingered for a moment before he pulled it away.

“Clearly,” he replied, though his tone had softened just slightly. He took a step backwards and shook his head, gesturing towards the fruit again. “Just make sure you finish it. You don’t have to eat it all at once.”

Without waiting for an answer, he turned around and left the room, gently shutting the door behind him.

Eliza sighed, the room suddenly feeling quieter. Her gaze drifted briefly—to the fruit, to the door, to nothing in particular.

It didn’t matter. None of it did.

Because by tomorrow, she wouldn’t be here.

By tomorrow, she would be gone.