WEST WING DOOR

Elaris's POV

I held Neryss's scrap over the candle until it curled into the corner.

It burned away quickly.

I waited until all traces of that particular script had been consumed by ash before pressing what remained beneath the metal base of the candle.

No evidence.

No message.

Nothing to tip off the guards who'd warned me.

But the three little words were seared into my memory nonetheless.

West wing door open.

I watched the edge of my own locked entrance.

The message had made it past whatever protections I had in place.

Which meant either someone had gotten past them, or someone with authority had allowed the message to be delivered.

Neither of which was particularly reassuring, seeing as how the west wing had been Virelle's protected territory since the attacks, and the council had all but sealed off every private passageway as a result.

I wiped at the small amount of ash clinging to my fingertips.

Whatever risks Neryss had taken to send me a message, I could not afford to reciprocate right now.

At least not for the time being, all I could do was remember.

And wait.

I slept fitfully, but every time I started slipping down into dreams, the night healer's warning echoed in my ears.

The second mate dies first.

Followed by Neryss's own note:

West wing door open.

A night healer had warned me, and now I'd received a second warning of a completely different matter.

Both from the same palace.

I rolled onto my side and pressed a hand over my stomach.

The child moved sometime before dawn.

I counted the movements instead of ticking off the hours.

One.

Two.

Three.

It was a simple distraction, but it helped.

The council was pushing sooner examinations.

Someone was getting into areas they shouldn't be.

The night healer had warned me that I was still a target.

These were all things which could be compartmentalized and sorted in due time.

That was in theory, because as soon as I finished my morning routine, I was going to start asking myself what the connection between all three was.

Averic arrived shortly after sunrise.

The observer was different this time.

Tighter.

He came in bearing a council record tablet and took up residence in a place where he could see both of us.

Averic took the chair.

I made no mention of the note, and instead just looked at him once before giving the barest movement of my fingers against the fabric of my gown.

His expression sharpened.

He understood.

His posture only changed just enough to show that he'd received my note.

That he knew Neryss had sent it.

We said nothing of it.

_not with a council observer present._

"How long until the documentation?" I asked.

"Less than an hour."

His reply was blunt.

"Will you be there?"

"Outside."

A singular word that told me several things.

He'd managed to secure some sort of presence, but the council still thought best to keep him out of the examination's inner workings.

Averic relayed the details before the observer could interrupt.

"I can stand outside the examination room," he said. "I cannot enter, unless the council healer requests my presence."

"That is their condition?"

"Yes."

I spared a look for the observer, who simply nodded in confirmation.

"No interference with the medical record.“I won’t interfere,” Averic said.

The calmness of his voice betrayed nothing, but I'd come to know him well enough to realize he wanted to see things work out.

That he wanted to witness first hand, and ensure nothing was written down in his absence that would claim the examination process was compromised, or that he'd never really seen it happen.

The observer announced we were nearly finished.

Averic stood.

"Answer only what they ask," he told me.

"I know."

"And don't let anyone rush you."

I gave a small nod.

He left first, followed by the guards.

I was alone in the chamber for only a few minutes before the door opened again.

The examination escort arrived.

The medical chamber had been prepared in my absence.

Two council healers stood to either side of a long examination table.

A third sat with a record ledger open.

None of them were familiar to me.

Something which was intentional, seeing as how none of Maevra's regular attendants had been allowed to take part in my examination either.

I was asked to sit.

The first healer checked my general physical condition.

The second measured my wolf essence.

The third merely recorded everything.

There was no warmth in the process, nor was there any hint of accusation.

Just recording.

The healer placed her hand near my stomach and allowed the diagnostic spell to run through the outer layers of my essence before a faint warmth answered from within.

"Gestational activity present," she dictated.

The recorder wrote it down.

"Maternal essence below optimal strength."

Another line appeared on the page.

I kept my breath even.

They had recorded the pregnancy as stable, and noted my reduced wolf essence.

They had noted the children's movements.

They had noted everything, bar one thing that should have been obvious.

And now, everything was etched into the council's permanent record.

The questions asked next were predictable.

"How long have you believed yourself pregnant?"

"Since the healer's confirmation."

"Who confirmed it?"

"Sela."

"Has the pregnancy shown instability?"

"Only during times of physical strain."

"Have you experienced bleeding?"

"Not recently."

"Have you received essence from the Alpha since confirmation?" I hesitated for only a fraction of a beat before answering.

"No."

The healer paused.

"None?"

"None."

She wrote something down.

I held back the urge to ask what it was.

Another diagnostic pass.

The child responded more strongly this time.

The healer noted the reaction.

Then she asked about Averic.

I gave only the required responses.

I did not say anything about the times when his essence had reacted to mine.

I did not say anything about the strange warmth of silver which appeared just before he had walked away.

That was information best kept from a room full of council record keepers.

When the examination concluded, the lead healer closed the ledger.

"You may return to your chamber."

No conclusions drawn.

No reassurances given.

I was escorted back into the corridor.

Averic was not in sight.

By afternoon, the first reports concerning Virelle had been relayed to me indirectly.

One of the guards indicated that her preliminary documentation had also been completed.

According to the preliminary record, her gestational progression was in line with the dates she had claimed.

There had been no immediate contradiction announced.

This should have been disappointing, but instead I found myself simply reminding myself this was only the first step.

A pregnancy which progressed as expected did not prove paternity, it only indicated that the physical development which the healers noted was in line with what the woman claimed.

Nothing more.

Still, the household was already breathing in speculation.

Virelle's supporters would take the report as proof, and others would take it as an excuse to discount all accusations made against her.

The council had created a situation in which proof was complicated, and it would be used both ways before anyone realized it.

I sat near the window, and found myself exhausted in a way I should not have been.

The examination had tired me, and I pressed a hand over my stomach, feeling the child move.

For now, this was enough.

Averic's evening visit was later than usual.

The observer was the same man as this morning, though Averic looked more worn than before.

He sat and waited until the observer had begun recording.

"There was a breach," he said.

I understood what he meant immediately.

"The west wing?"

His gaze flickered towards me.

"Yes."

My stomach gave a fussy twist.

"When?"

"During the midday watch."

So Neryss's warning had not been false.

Averic continued.

"One of the service doors was found open."

"Was anyone supposed to use it?"

"No."

"Who found it?"

"Guard patrol."

He stopped there, and the observer gave him a calculating look.

I wanted to ask whether Virelle had been inside.

Whether anyone had been present.

Whether the old herb stores had been tampered with.

But I knew the risks of asking too many questions.

Averic's expression told me he knew more than he was saying.

It was not that he was being secretive, only that he was restricted from giving me any more information.

The observer ended the visit on time, and Averic stood.

Before leaving, he said only one thing.

"We're checking the passage."

Nothing else.

The door shut behind him, and I sat in silence.

Neryss had been correct in her warning.

The west wing passage had been opened.

And now, Averic was investigating it.

It should have reassured me.

But instead another thought took root.

Why had Neryss warned me before Averic had been able to investigate?

Had she seen someone walking through the passageways?

Had she heard something?

Had she seen the broken door after the intruder had left?

I could not ask any of these things, seeing as how the council had cut me off from anyone who might have answered.

I looked up at the guard posted outside the doors.

Asking was not going to help.

The palace was turning into a place filled with secrets hidden behind words, and the very existence of one had led to the opening of another.

Night was slow in arriving.

I forced myself to eat, despite the sense of unease that clung to my stomach like a sickness.

The child was unusually active.

I counted each movement.

Five.

Six.

Seven.

Then a pause.

I waited.

Another shift.

A small smile touched my lips before I could stop myself.

"You're stubborn."

I kept my hand just above the place where I could feel the movement.

The room was hushed enough for me to be able to hear the guards shift outside.

I tried not to think about Virelle, or the west wing, or how someone might have been wandering through the old herb stores while the council prepared their records to decide on my child's fate.

Instead, I focused on the things I could do.

Eat.

Rest.

Be strong.

Arrive at the examination.

The blood moon still awaited.

And I was beginning to understand now, that reaching the examination could be as vital as surviving it.

Just before midnight, the guest-room doors opened without warning.

Averic came in, and this time there was a different observer with him.

The man bore a sealed medical document.

He crossed the room and set it on the table.

The council seal had already been broken.

I looked up at him.

"What is that?"

"Preliminary comparison,"

My gaze snapped to the page.

"Between us?“Between both pregnancy records.”

The observer stood behind the door, and Averic did not sit.

He waited until I had picked up the document before reading.

Most of the page was measuring.

Gestational progress.

Maternal essence.

Developments.

Nothing that directly contradicted either woman's claim.

Until I saw the line that had been underlined.

Someone had marked it.

Averic watched my face.

I read the line once, then twice.

Someone.

The document was written in precise council notations.

"Claimed gestational essence signature in Subject V. Drazyn shows no secondary bond resonance consistent with Alpha parentage at this stage."

I looked up.

"What does that mean?"

Averic's gaze flickered to the observer before he gave me an answer.

"It means the healers expected to find an additional resonance."

"And they didn't."

"Not the one they were looking for."

I looked back at the document.

Virelle's claim had produced something that the council couldn't simply write off as false.

It wasn't proof.

Not yet.

But it was a contradiction placed down in writing.

Averic leaned closer to me.

"They have the first inconsistency on paper."

I swallowed hard.

"Then they'll record it."

His expression darkened.

"They're already arguing whether to."