Mate 18 - Trap

Sage

I had already decided by the time I arrived in the grand dining hall.

I would not eat.

The long, polished table stretched before me with an extravagant feast. Gold-rimmed plates gleamed under the chandelier’s soft glow, while goblets filled with deep crimson wine shimmered beside lavishly prepared dishes. Roasted meats, fragrant stews, and delicate pastries adorned the table, their aromas rich and enticing.

But to me, it all smelled like poison.

I moved with careful grace, lowering myself into my seat. The atmosphere was quieter than usual, lacking the overbearing presence of the Emperor and Empress. Without them, the weight of scrutiny was lighter—but not absent.

At the head of the table, Damien exuded his usual quiet authority, his blue eyes unreadable. Theoden leaned back lazily to his right, murmuring in hushed tones to a noble, his smirk ever-present. Greyson sat nearby, his posture tense, ever watchful.

And then there was Rosana.

She was seated a few chairs away, graceful as ever, her fingers lightly tracing the rim of her goblet. She met my gaze briefly, something unreadable flickering in her eyes before she took a slow sip of wine.

The first course was served.

A delicate soup was placed before me, steam curling into the air, laced with the scent of fresh herbs.

I did not touch it.

It didn’t take long for someone to notice.

"You’re not eating, Lady Sage."

Rosana’s voice was soft and tinged with just the right amount of concern. A well-rehearsed act.

"Is something wrong?"

I lifted my gaze, meeting hers evenly. "I’m simply not hungry."

A beat of silence.

Then, Damien’s voice cut through the space, firm and calm.

"It is improper to refuse a meal that has been prepared for you," he said, not looking up from his plate. "Especially in front of the Elders."

His tone was unreadable, but I could feel the weight of expectation behind it.

I forced a polite smile. "I appreciate the effort put into this meal, but I’m feeling unwell. I would rather not risk further discomfort."

The Elder seated at the far end of the table frowned. "It is disrespectful to reject hospitality, my lady. You—"

"She doesn’t have to eat if she doesn’t want to."

Greyson.

His voice was calm, but there was steel beneath it.

The tension in the room sharpened.

Greyson’s sharp eyes flickered toward me, searching. "Sage," he murmured, voice low enough for only me to hear. "Are you alright?"

I hesitated.

I wanted to tell him. I wanted to whisper that I wasn’t safe, that every bite of food could be laced with poison, that Rosana was watching me like a predator waiting for the right moment to strike.

But I couldn’t.

Not here. Not now.

Instead, I nodded. "I’m fine."

His brows drew together slightly, but he didn’t push.

The heavy doors suddenly burst open as the tension threatened to thicken further.

An Elder rushed inside, his face pale with urgency.

“My lord! There has been an attack—near the temple!”

The shift in the room was immediate.

Damien was on his feet in a heartbeat, his chair scraping against the marble floor.

"How many?" His voice was sharp, demanding.

"Enough that we must act immediately," the Elder responded. "The temple guards are holding them back, but we do not know for how long."

Theoden and Greyson moved as swiftly, rising in one fluid motion.

Damien didn’t hesitate. "We move now."

In the chaos of their departure, the meal was forgotten.

I exhaled slowly, my fingers unclenching from my lap.

For tonight, I had avoided their trap.

But I wasn’t foolish enough to believe this was over.

The palace was silent.

But my mind wasn’t.

I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, my body tense despite the softness of the sheets. Hours had passed, yet I was wide awake, my thoughts circling the same horrifying question.

What would have happened if I had eaten that food?

Would I have simply fallen ill? Humiliated myself in front of everyone? Or would my life have ended in agony, my body left cold before I could even grasp what was happening?

I clenched my hands into fists. Someone wanted to see me fall. No—someone wanted me gone. I was a thorn in their path.

Who?

The Empress? Rosana? Or was it someone else entirely?

A chill crept down my spine, sending goosebumps along my arms.

Then—I heard it.

A sound—soft, deliberate. A shift in the air so subtle, so precise, that it could have been nothing.

But it wasn’t.

I sucked in a quiet breath, my senses sharpening.

Another sound. A footstep.

My blood turned to ice.

I wasn’t alone.

Every nerve in my body screamed at me to move, but I stayed perfectly still, my fingers inching beneath my pillow until they curled around the cool hilt of my dagger. I gripped it tightly, forcing my breath to remain steady as I listened.

Then—movement.

Fast. Too fast.

My body reacted on instinct.

I rolled just as something sharp sliced through the sheets where I had been lying only moments ago. The sound of fabric tearing sent my pulse into a frenzy. I hit the floor hard, dagger raised, eyes locking onto the figure standing above me.

Cloaked in darkness. Face obscured.

A professional.

They weren’t here to scare me. They were here to kill me.

I lashed out with my blade, but they dodged effortlessly, their movements calculated and precise.

My chest heaved. I couldn’t win this fight, not like this.

I needed to get out.

I turned and ran.

A sharp whistle cut through the air—something whizzed past my ear, embedding itself into the wooden doorframe with a dull thud. A dagger.

I didn’t stop.

I yanked the door open and bolted down the corridor, my bare feet slapping against the cold marble. The dim torchlight flickered along the stone walls as I twisted blindly through the halls, heart hammering, breath ragged.

Think, Sage. Where do you go? Who do you run to?

My frantic thoughts were cut off when I slammed into something solid.

Someone.

Strong hands caught my arms, steadying me before I could fall.

“Sage?” A familiar voice. Smooth, sweet, laced with concern.

Rosana.

I blinked at her, my chest rising and falling in uneven gasps. “Someone—someone was in my room.”

Her brows knitted together in worry, her hands lingering on my arms. “Are you hurt?”

I shook my head, still trembling. “No, but—”

Her grip tightened slightly.

And then she smiled.

Not a soft, reassuring smile.

A knowing one. A cruel one.

“You should be careful, Sage,” she murmured, her voice velvet and poison all at once. “It would be unfortunate if you crossed a line you shouldn’t.”

The words sent a cold, sinking feeling into my stomach.

She knew.

She knew.

I freed myself, stumbling back as realization settled over me like a suffocating weight.

“You—”

But she merely turned, her steps slow and graceful as she walked away without another word.

Leaving me there.

Alone.

With the horrifying certainty that someone truly wanted me dead.

And Rosana… she was part of it.

I sat on the edge of my bed, hands trembling slightly as I clutched the dagger in my lap. The weight of the night still clung to me like a ghost, whispering reminders of how close I had come to death.

I could have died tonight.

The thought sent a shiver down my spine. The sheets on my bed still bore the evidence of the attack—the deep slash where the intruder’s blade had barely missed me. If I hadn’t moved in time…

I tightened my grip on the dagger until my knuckles turned white. The cold metal pressed into my palms, grounding me and reminding me that I was still here—still alive. But for how long?

I wasn’t safe.

Not in this palace. Not in my room.

Nowhere.

I forced a shaky breath through my nose, pressing my fingers against my temples. My heartbeat pounded in my ears, fast and erratic, as if my body was still stuck in the moment of danger. The attack had passed, but my mind refused to calm.

I squeezed my eyes shut.

Think, Sage. Think.

Panic wouldn’t help me now. Fear would only make me vulnerable. And I refused to be weak.

I needed to be rational. I needed to figure out who was behind this.

Greyson.

His name surfaced in my thoughts like a desperate lifeline, bringing the slightest flicker of hope. He had believed me—when no one else did. He had been the only one to see past the carefully spun lies of the palace.

If I told him about the poisoned food… the intruder… Rosana’s veiled threats—he wouldn’t dismiss me. He would listen. He would understand.

But Greyson wasn’t here.

I swallowed, my throat tightening painfully.

He had left.

He wasn’t coming back anytime soon.

He, Damien, and Theoden had gone to exterminate the monsters near the temple. It could be days or even weeks before they returned.

And that meant…

I had no one.

The realization settled in my chest like lead, a suffocating weight pressing down on me. My pulse quickened, breathing shallow as I stared blankly at the flickering candlelight on my nightstand.

I was alone.

Truly, utterly alone.

The walls of my room suddenly felt like a cage, pressing in, trapping me with my thoughts. My sanctuary had been invaded. My bed—the place where I should have been safe—had nearly become my grave.

No one was coming to help me.

No one was going to save me.

I had to save myself.

I clenched my fists, inhaling deeply through my nose, forcing air into my lungs. I couldn’t afford to break down. If I let fear consume me, I would become exactly what they wanted—helpless.

No.

I refused to be that girl.

I had survived too much already. I had clawed my way through worse.

And I would survive this too.

But I had to be careful. I had to be smart.

Rosana’s words echoed in my head, dripping with condescension, laced with something more sinister.

"It would be unfortunate if you crossed a line you shouldn’t."

She knew something.

No—she was involved.

And if Rosana was involved, that meant there were others.

I swallowed hard, my hands trembling as I reached for the delicate bracelet around my wrist that Chase had given me. I suddenly thought about him and how he had saved me. The bracelet felt cool against my fingertips. 

I closed my eyes, gripping it tightly.

"Please," I whispered, my voice barely audible in the room's stillness. "Let me survive this. Let me be strong."

I wasn’t the weak girl I had once been. I couldn’t afford to be.

Chase had always told me to have courage.

I had to be courageous now.

Because no one else was going to save me.

I inhaled deeply, willing my heart to slow and the terror lurking at the edges of my mind to retreat.

I would survive this night.

And I would uncover the truth.

The palace was waking.

Golden sunlight streamed through the tall windows, illuminating the grand halls, yet it did nothing to chase away the chill that clung to my skin.

I moved carefully, I approached the library to ease my mind a bit. Every step felt heavier than the last, and my heart was a steady drum in my chest.

I had spent the entire night replaying everything—Rosana’s words, the intruder’s blade, the poison that nearly ended me. Someone wanted me dead. Someone close. And now, I had the slightest thread of a lead.

The halls were quiet, save for a few scattered servants preparing for the day. I kept my head down, moving swiftly and silently, my hands tucked into my dress.

My pulse was racing when I reached the grand library doors.

I took a breath and pushed the doors open.

The familiar scent of parchment and ink enveloped me. The towering bookshelves cast long shadows across the floor, the soft morning light filtering through the stained-glass windows.

I kept close to the shelves, moving deeper into the vast space. My fingers brushed against the spines of old tomes as I walked, grounding myself. 

Then I heard it.

The hushed murmur of voices.

I froze.

Carefully, I inched forward, pressing myself against one of the tall shelves as I peered around the corner.

My breath caught.

Rosana stood near one of the large wooden tables, her posture composed, elegant—too controlled. But it wasn’t her presence that sent a fresh wave of unease through me.

It was the man standing across from her.

He was dressed in the dark robes of a palace servant, but there was something about him that felt off. His stance was stiff, wary. He wasn’t bowing, wasn’t treating Rosana with the same reverence most did. This wasn’t just a servant.

And then, I saw it.

Rosana reached into the folds of her gown and pulled out an envelope.

She held it out between two fingers, her lips curled into a small, unreadable smile. The man hesitated for only a moment before taking it.

In exchange, he handed her something.

A small pouch.

I couldn’t see its contents, but I didn’t need to.

My stomach turned violently.

I knew what it was.

Herbs. Ingredients. Poison.

I gritted my teeth, gripping the edge of the shelf so tightly my nails dug into the wood.

This isn’t suspicion anymore. This is real.

Rosana wasn’t just idly threatening me. She was ensuring my death.

I held my breath, forcing my body to remain still as the exchange ended. The man gave her a single nod before turning sharply and striding toward the far doors. Rosana, on the other hand, took her time.

She lingered, her fingers brushing over the pouch as if savoring whatever plan she was putting into motion.

Then, as if sensing something, she turned.

I jerked back, pressing myself against the shelf, heart hammering in my chest.

Did she see me?

Seconds passed.

I didn’t dare move.

Finally, I heard the soft click of her heels as she walked away.

Only when the doors shut behind her did I let out the breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.

I had proof. Not solid, undeniable evidence—but something.

And yet, my hands trembled.

Because if Rosana was already this bold…

Then I might be running out of time.