Chapter 147

Lila

My tea had gone cold again. It sat untouched on the table beside me, delicate steam long since vanished, the thin slice of lemon inside had shriveled and browned at the edges.

I stared at it for too long, unable to summon the will to lift the cup. My hands ached. My legs ached. Everything ached.

My heart felt too heavy.

I had dressed myself that morning. The wool-lined dress hung too loose across my shoulders, the neckline askew no matter how I tugged. I didn’t bother to fix it. I just sat there, half-dressed and hollowed out.

The fevers had killed my appetite and my body was starting to show it.

The door creaked open with a soft groan. A girl I didn’t recognize stepped in; she was blonde, slight, a little jumpy. She carried a small stack of fresh towels and a large vase of moonflowers cradled like a child on her hip.

“Good morning, my Lady,” she chirped, too brightly. Her voice cracked halfway through.

I offered a faint nod and returned my gaze to the tea.

I heard her shuffle around the room replacing linens, humming a nervous little tune under her breath. I wasn’t sure if she was afraid of silence and needed to fill the space, or if that was just her way.

She kept her eyes on her tasks until she was arranging the flowers.

“His Majesty said these were your favorite,” she said softly. “I hope I got it right.”

I said nothing.

She paused, then rushed to fill the air again. “I only just started in this wing. They’ve had so many staff changes, it’s been difficult to keep track of everyone. So much happening. The southern corridors, the border patrols, the talk about the council…”

She trailed off, then started again, voice lower. “I’m sorry about your mother. I mean…I can’t imagine how you must be feeling. Especially with everything else going on…”

I blinked. Everything in me went still.

“What?”

The girl froze. “Oh. I didn’t mean to overstep. Apologies, my Lady.”

“What did you say?” My voice was sharp. It startled even me.

The vase trembled in her hands. She set it down too quickly. Water sloshed over the rim.

“I just… overheard someone outside the kitchens. One of the elder maids said you didn’t attend the rites. That the healer filed a report last week. I’m so sorry for your loss, my Lady.”

Her voice wavered, curling in on itself.

“That’s not possible,” I said, standing on legs that suddenly felt boneless. “My mother is just fine; she’s going to be fine.”

The girl stepped back. “Maybe it was a mistake. I’m sure they were wrong. I just thought… I thought you knew.”

I stared at her. “Who else heard this?”

“I don’t know. I shouldn’t have said anything, It was not my place. Apologies, my Lady. I need to return to the lower wing.”

“No, wait,” I blurted, stepping toward her. My fingers twitched at my sides, wanting to grab her sleeve but not daring to. “Tell me exactly what you heard. Every word.” My voice cracked, softening on the last syllable, more plea than demand. “Please…”

She dipped into a curtsy so fast she nearly tripped on the hem of her dress.

“Just that, my Lady. You had not attended the rites and the healers filed a report. Apologies, again, my Lady.”

Then she fled, the door clicking shut behind her with the soft finality of the lock clicking back into place.

I stood there, breath thin in my chest.

The silence that followed was unlike any I had experienced before.

My mother. Dead.

And I didn’t know. Not because I was absent, but because I wasn’t told.

I just stood there, arms limp at my sides, watching the water on the table slowly soak into the doily, drip onto the floor.

I don’t know how long I stood there after the girl left.

Time folded in on itself. Minutes or hours, what difference did it make? My feet had gone numb against the floor, but still I didn’t sit. I couldn’t. If I sat, I might not get back up.

The silence pressed in around me like a too-tight corset, squeezing the breath from my lungs one rib at a time.

She was gone.

I tried to mind-link the healer, just to hear it from someone who knew. But my call slipped away into nothing. Blocked like the doors in this prison.

Then, in desperation, I tried my father.

Nothing…

Then Damon.

Nothing Again.

I knew it was a result of my wolf being suppressed, but my knees gave out with any hope I had left.

I dropped hard onto the rug, the jolt of impact echoing up my spine. The air tasted sharp. Metallic. I must have bitten my tongue.

My hands braced against the floor, as if it might anchor me. But there was no gravity left in my bones. I was floating in some awful in-between, too heavy to move, too out of my body to feel.

I pressed my forehead to the floor.

It wasn’t just that she was dead. It was that she’d died without me. That no one had come. No one had told me. No one had given me the chance to say goodbye.

All of this was for her. And I suddenly didn’t want any of it for myself anymore.

That Damon let me stay here, locked away like a dangerous thing, while my mother’s body cooled and was buried without my name spoken over her grave.

That he had known. And said nothing.

I curled in on myself, arms around my stomach, legs bent beneath. I felt cold. My skin was damp with sweat, my dress sticking to the curve of my spine. My breathing came in shallow bursts.

Ruby?

Nothing. Not even the flicker of a presence. No warmth. No pulse. Just dead air.

I should have screamed. But the grief was too big for sound. It moved like a tide, swallowing my thoughts one by one.

The guilt came first. Then the helplessness. Then something darker kept repeating.

I am not free.

The thought rang through me like a bell.

I am not free.

Not in my choices. Not in my movements. Not in my grief.

I wasn’t a daughter anymore. Or a mate. I wasn’t even a person.

I was a kept thing. A symbol. A shadow in someone else’s hall, had worn someone else’s name. I was waiting for permission to be told when the people I loved ceased breathing.

I let my head fall to the side, cheek pressed to the rug. It smelled faintly of lavender and wood smoke. I stared at the flames in the hearth, flickering too calmly.

And Ruby, who had once been loud and defiant and wild…was nowhere. Barely even a whisper in the back of my mind.

I whispered her name. Out loud. Just once.

“Ruby…”

But there was no answer. Something inside me had cracked, and she’d slipped through it.

A knock came at the door, soft and hesitant. A voice followed. It was Emma’s. “Lila?”

I couldn’t answer as I kept floating away while pressed to the floor. I closed my eyes, just to disappear for a little while.

If I had to live one more moment in a world where I wasn’t told my mother had died, I thought I too might stop breathing altogether.

And for a moment, I almost wanted to.