DO NOT LEAVE YET

Elaris's POV

I read the note twice as I trace where the firelight falls.

The first time, I read the words.

The second time, I take in the rest of the room.

The message is written with no hesitation, no visible attempt to disguise the hand that wrote it. The paper is plain but correct, indicating the messenger knew exactly where to leave it and where not to be seen.

I turn it over

...looking for a seal or signature

but find nothing.

Neryss watches me from the hearth as I examine my reflection in the window.

“You’re keeping it.”Yes."

She looks surprised at that.

"Why?"

"Because burning evidence is a thing people do when they are certain there is no other way to protect themselves."

I fold the paper along the crease and tuck it into the folds of my dress.

"I am not certain anymore."

Neryss asks if I think the message contains truth.

"I believe someone wants me to know something."

"That isn't the same thing."

"No."

I meet her eyes.

"And that is why I am saving it."

The note is close enough to my body that I am aware of its edges as my stomach tightens against my hand.

This is the only evidence I am holding that the story around Maevra's death is likely not a full picture.

We scan the little house from front to back as Neryss tests every window and shutter.

I check the front and back doors to the best of my ability.

The back latch is old but good, the front has a good lock and I can barely move the hands when Neryss tries to test it. One of the shutters has a loose hinge so we wedge it with a strip of wood from the shed.

The well water is clear.

Neryss lowers the bucket and tastes test before nodding.

"Clean enough."

I check the small pantry.

There isn't much but between the two of us it will keep us fed for a short time if we ration well.

The fire is drawing well and the roof shows no sign of leakage.

There are few signs that anyone has been living inside the walls recently.

It is not the walls of an Alpha's home that surround me, but it has walls nonetheless.

Doors.

Locks.

And a place to decide on who will be allowed past them.

I trace the edge of the wooden table.

"It will do."

"For now."

"For now is enough."

Neither of us mistake this for a place of safety.

We both know that survival has to have a beginning.

When the house is secure, I tell Neryss that we stay here.

She studies the road ahead.

"You're certain?"

"No."

That earns me a strange look.

"I am certain about very little right now."

I explain my concerns.

The note could be bait to try to keep me inside the territory so they can find me easily.

But if the message is true, it means leaving now could keep me from learning it.

The child I carry is still connected to Averic by blood, and until the council changes its mind, their pack's succession disputes continue to include me.

Walking beyond the territory would remove me from even the possibility of protection from blood and territory.

Most importantly, it would create another opportunity for a story of a woman who ran.

The woman they accused could barely defend herself, and the council would have no reason to prove their accusations.

Neryss understands immediately.

"You think they'll say you just ran because you were guilty."

"I know they will."

I press my hand against my stomach.

"I won't give them that."

At the same time, I refuse to ignore the possibility that the anonymous writer is telling the truth.

If the attendant truly named the people involved, then the first person who needs to hear that truth is not me, but Averic.

The thought cuts into me, but I ignore it.

"For now, we stay."

Neryss agrees without discussion.

Instead of arguing possibilities, she starts making the house more difficult to enter unnoticed.

She scouts for where the women will sleep, which floor boards make noise and which don't.

She moves the table so people looking out from the front of the house would not be able to see in through the window.

After sunset, she puts out every light she can find.

"No lights near the front windows," She tells me.

"Agreed."

Neryss puts a basin of water near the back door so any disturbance would make a sound.

She picks up a heavy iron poker from near the fire and tucks it within easy reach.

Elaris watches.

"You're carrying that?"

"If someone comes through the door, I would rather have something heavier than a kitchen spoon."

I am surprised to find myself laughing.

It almost feels wrong.

Neryss smiles.

Then the smile dies away.

"We should take turn sleeping."

"I can manage."

"You are carrying a child."

"I am also capable of staying awake."

"That wasn't the question."

I stare at her for a long moment.

When she meets my eyes, I finally nod.

"All right."

With no fuss, we establish the first rule of our new life.

Neither of us sleeps without the other, if either one is able to.

There is no servants to knock on the doors of the few bedrooms, no council clerks waiting when I wake up.

No healer to ask how I might feel better.

Only sunlight filtering through curtains and the distant sound of cart wheels on the road.

Neryss makes breakfast with the items we have.

I eat my fill, my appetite is changed from what it was before knowing about the pregnancy but I force myself to take what I need.

The child seems calmer when I do.

When the tiredness comes, I give in to it rather than fighting it.

That is something I have had to learn in recent years, how to measure my own worth by what I can endure.

Every decision now comes with another question besides the usual ones.

Will this hurt the children.

I spend hours cleaning the smallest room and arranging the few things that came with me before deciding it is necessary.

There is no point lying to myself.

I can not pretend this is a temporary measure if I can not survive in the present.

Neither Neryss nor I speak Averic's name.

Still, his absence takes up house.

It fills the space where questions would be.

What would he say.

Would he think the note was true.

Would he read it.

I refuse to follow that thought too far.

The fire needs wood.

The child needs to eat.

The door needs to be checked.

Neryss returns later in the evening from her cautious scouting of the nearest market edge, having changed her outer shawl so she will not be so obviously recognizable.

She only picks up basic items, nothing that would require a careful discussion on value: Grain, bread, dried vegetables, lamp oil and a small amount of salt.

"I didn't hear much talk."

"That is probably for the best."

"There was one thing."

I look up at her.

Neryss lowers her voice.

"The palace remains closed to ordinary traffic."

I wait.

She continues.

"Merchants were turned away from the inner route. Servants are moved through controlled entrances. No one seems to know what is happening inside."

"And Averic?"

Neryss hesitates.

"He has not been seen in the public halls since his mother's death."

The information hits me harder than I like.

Not because I expected him to come visit me.

I know better.

But because it means the palace itself has become a place where decisions are being made without witnesses.

Neryss sits.

"One of the market women said the Alpha hasn't appeared before the household since the night of the funeral preparations."

I stare at the loaf of bread on the table.

"Did she say why?"

"No."

I nod.

"Then we do not invent reasons."

Neryss studies me.

I realize she is waiting for grief.

Instead, I ask if she saw any council riders on the southern road.

She did not.

We get back to the business of preparing for the day.

But the news stays with me.

I take it in without comment.

Later, when Neryss is outside gathering more wood, I remove the folded note from inside my dress.

I read it again.

The attendant has confessed.

She has named the true hand.

Do not leave the territory yet.

I set the paper flat against my palm.

If the message is true, it means someone inside the palace has information that has not reached the council or has not been allowed to reach the council publicly.

That changes the shape of my situation.

Not enough to make me safe.

Enough to make me wait.

I put the note against my skin again.

Grief can look like justice from away, to someone who can only see the palace doors closing behind me.

Someone who knows the entire story might see something else.

A woman who was repeatedly targeted.

A witness who was threatened.

A healer whose involvement remains unresolved.

A final dose that was altered, while I was nowhere near Maevra.

And now an anonymous person who insists the truth has not disappeared.

I refuse to build hope from a piece of paper.

But I refuse to throw it away either.

I get back to the fire and start sorting through the dried herbs Neryss has bought.

Survival first.

Truth second.

Everything other can wait.

It is night.

We keep the fire low enough that the glow is not easily seen from the road.

Neryss takes the first watch.

I am barely asleep when I feel the next movement and find my hand already resting over my stomach.

The child moves steadily.

I begin to count without realizing it, one move.

Then another.

A pause.

Then a slight turn under my palm.

It eases something inside me.

For months, my body has been treated as either evidence, vessel, weakness or resource.

Now I focus on the simple truth about it.

There is a life inside me.

It does not care about council politics.

It does not understand accusations.

It only reacts to what I give it.

I breathe slowly.

Across the room, Neryss remains awake.

"You should sleep," I whisper.

"So should you."

"I am trying."

"Then try harder."

I smile to myself in the dark.

I close my eyes again.

For a while, the house is quiet.

Then the fire cracks.

Neryss reaches for the iron poker.

Neither of us say anything.

I drift off again, but just after midnight I hear something against the front door.

Not a knock or footsteps.

Something being set carefully on the ground.

Neryss is on her feet before I can sit up fully.

She takes the blade she keeps under the table and moves toward the door.

I remain still.

"Wait," I whisper.

She pauses.

The house is quiet.

Neryss leans closer to the door but does not touch the latch.

Nothing happens.

No second sound.

No voice.

She waits long enough for it to be uncomfortable before peering through the narrow gap beside the shutter.

"I can't see anyone."

"don't open it all the way."

She nods.

When she finally lifts the latch, she leaves the door only slightly open.

A folded paper sits on the threshold with a small rock on top.

The same simple method.

Neryss retrieves it and closes the door immediately.

Neither of us speaks while she brings it to the table.

This time, I do not reach for it immediately.

The first note told us to remain, the second might tell us why.

Neryss unfolds the note.

The first line says nothing new.

"The attendant named the night healer and the west-wing woman.

The Alpha has the full statement. Stay where you are."

I read it twice.

The room feels different after the second reading of the message.

The first note could have been fabricated, the second includes information that would be difficult for an outsider to obtain.

The night healer.

The west-wing woman.

The two names point toward the same network that has been circling the palace for weeks.

More importantly, the message says that Averic has the full statement.

My fingers tighten around the edge of the paper.

"So he knows."

Neryss does not answer immediately.

"If this is true."

"Yes."

I fold the paper.

"If this is true, he knows."

Neryss studies me.

"Would you go back?"

I look toward the door.

"No."

The answer comes more quickly than I might have liked.

Not because I want the truth, but because I will not walk back into that palace simply because someone inside it might finally have proof.

If Averic wants the truth, he can choose what he does with it.

I have already spent too much of my life waiting for others to decide my fate.

I sit near the dying fire with the two notes in front of me.

Inside the palace, the network is being named.

Someone knows that the attendant has confessed.

Someone knows that the night healer has been identified.

Someone knows that a woman connected to the west wing has been named.

Someone knows enough about Averic's movements to claim that the full statement is already in his hands.

That means that information is moving, not officially, not through council announcements - but quietly and from person to person through the palace.

Not that it matters.

The official story still holds in the council chambers, but it is no longer the only one.

Neryss asks the question neither of us wants to answer.

"Why send this to you?"

I consider it.

“Because I am outside.”

She frowns.

"Wouldn't that make you less useful?"

"Maybe."

I look down at the notes.

"Or safer than if I was inside."

That thought chills me more than I would expect.

The person sending these messages may not be able to speak openly, and may be watching who enters rooms, who leaves, who survives long enough to tell the truth.

I fold the notes together.

The risk of staying is obvious.

But leaving may mean abandoning the only thread that could clear my name.

I tuck the papers beneath my clothes again.

"We stay."

Neryss nods.

Neither of us call it safe.

But we both recognize it as necessary.

Before either of us can speak again, a sound rises from somewhere beyond the house.

Low.

Controlled.

Three short notes.

Neryss goes completely still.

I recognize the expression on her face.

"What is it?"

She does not answer immediately.

Then she whispers, "A palace runners' whistle."

I sit upright.

"That far from the palace?"

"It is not a signal ordinary travelers use."

The whistle comes again.

Three measured calls.

Not random.

Not to be used on us.

It is the signal that is used inside the palace when an urgent message has to move between designated personnel without telling the contents to everyone.

Neryss puts out the last visible fire, and the room falls into darkness.

We listen.

No one approaches the door.

No one yells my name.

No one announces themselves.

The whistle sounds a third time, from somewhere out beyond the trees.

Closer.

I touch the two folded notes beneath my dress.

Someone from the palace is close enough to use an internal signal out away from my new home.

Which means either the message has brought someone here,

or someone inside the palace knows exactly where I am.

Neryss raises her blade.

I remain by the door, listening to the darkness.

For the first time since leaving the palace, I understand something that may change everything.

The walls I thought I had left behind may not be the only place where the truth is moving.

And whoever has come through the night has not yet decided whether they intend to knock.