I wake to softness. After days of hard ground and pain and terror, the sensation is so foreign it takes me a moment to understand what I'm feeling.
A bed. Clean linens. The scent of herbs and healing salves filling my nose instead of dirt and blood and fear. Panic floods through me immediately.
Where am I? How did I get here? The servants, Cecily's paid assassins, are they…
As I open my eyes and try to sit up, pain explodes through my body with such force that I cry out. My ribs, my back, my core… everything screams in protest.
"Be still." The voice is deep, commanding but not unkind. "You'll tear open your wounds."
I turn my head toward the sound, and the movement sends fresh agony radiating down my neck.
A man sits in a chair beside the bed—tall even sitting down, with dark hair that's slightly longer than fashionable, tied back from his face. His eyes are hazel, striking against tanned skin, and they hold genuine concern as they study me.
He looks young, maybe a few years older than Leander. And handsome. Devastatingly so. In a way that's all sharp angles and intensity rather than classical beauty.
The thought makes guilt twist in my stomach.
How can I notice such things when my sons are stolen? When I'm running for my life? What a madwoman I am, indeed…
"Where am I?" My voice comes out as a rasp, my throat raw. "Who are you?"
"You're safe. That's the first thing you need to know." He leans forward slightly, his movements careful, non-threatening. "My name is Lord Kyrell of Ziana, eldest son of Duke Phideus. My hunting dogs found you at the bottom of a ravine two days ago. You've been unconscious ever since."
Two days. I've lost two more days.
Two more days my sons have spent thinking Cecily is their mother.
"I need to…" I try to sit up again despite the pain, desperation overriding common sense. "I need to go, I can't be here. They'll find me. They'll—"
"No one is going to find you here." Kyrell's voice is firm, absolute. "This is my family's estate in Ziana. You're far from wherever you were running from. And even if someone came looking, they'd have to go through me first."
The certainty in his tone is almost unsettling. As if he's made a promise to himself that he has no intention of breaking.
I force myself to breathe, to think.
Ziana. That's the kingdom bordering Reaton to the east. I've crossed into another kingdom entirely. That's... that's good. That means I'm farther from Cecily's reach. Though if she's willing to pay assassins, distance might not matter.
"So… who are you, my lady?" Kyrell asks gently. "Can you tell me your name?"
Fear spikes through me. If I tell him my real name—Lady Rosetta, Crown Prince Leander's disgraced first wife—will he send me back? Will he think I'm the madwoman everyone says I am?
"I..." My throat tightens. "I can't. I'm sorry, I just… I can't tell you that right now."
He nods slowly, as if he expected this answer. "All right. That's all right. Then can you tell me what happened to you? How did you end up injured and alone in those woods?"
"I was running…" I whisper. "From people who wanted to hurt me. I got lost, fell…"
"Running from whom?"
I shake my head. The movement makes the room spin.
Kyrell studies me for a long moment, his hazel eyes searching my face.
Then he says, carefully, "The physicians examined you while you were unconscious. They needed to assess your injuries properly to treat you. I hope you understand—it was necessary for your care."
He pauses, his voice remaining gentle but direct.
“Initially, they thought you might be with a child. Your body showed certain signs. But upon closer examination… They realized you'd recently given birth. Within the last two weeks, they estimated."
Heat floods my face despite the pain and fear.
The intimacy of strangers examining my body while I was unconscious, knowing my secrets, seeing physical proof of what was stolen from me… It's humiliating and violating even though I know it was necessary.
"Where are your children?" Kyrell's voice is soft now, careful. "What happened to them?"
My throat closes completely. The question opens up the wound I've been trying desperately to keep closed and I feel hot tears silently running down my cheeks.
"I'm sorry," he says immediately. "I don't mean to cause you pain. I just…"
"They were taken from me." The words come out broken, barely audible. "Right after they were born. Two boys. They took them. And they told me they were dead, but they weren't dead, they were alive, and now… now someone else is raising them as hers, and everyone thinks I'm mad for saying they were mine at all."
I hadn't meant to say that much, hadn't meant to say any of it, but once the words start, I can't stop them. I turned back to him, Kyrell's expression darkens. Not with doubt or dismissal, but with barely contained fury.
His jaw tightens, his hands clenching on the arms of his chair.
"Who took them?" His voice is low, dangerous. "Tell me who did this to you, my lady."
"I can't." I wipe my tears with shaking hands. "I can't tell you. You wouldn't believe me anyway. No one believes me."
"I believe you."
The words are spoken with such absolute certainty that I stop mid-sentence, staring at him.
"I believe you," Kyrell repeats, his hazel eyes fierce. "I've seen enough of the world to know that powerful people do terrible things and then call their victims mad when they speak the truth. So I believe you. And I promise you—I will help you. Once you've recovered, once you're strong enough, we'll deal with everything. We'll get your children back."
Something in my chest cracks at the conviction in his voice. No one has spoken to me like this—like I'm someone worth protecting, worth believing. No one since I married Leander and couldn’t give him a child. Not since King Wilius died.
"You don't even know who I am…" I whisper.
"No. But I know you're a mother whose children were stolen. That's enough." His voice softens slightly. "You have sanctuary here for as long as you need it, my lady. No one will touch you under my family's roof. You have my word."
The intensity of his gaze, the absolute certainty in his promise… it makes something flutter in my chest that I immediately feel guilty for.
I've only been away from Leander for days. My sons are missing. I have no business noticing how Kyrell's presence fills the room, how his protectiveness makes me feel something I haven't felt in years.
Safe.
"Rest now," Kyrell says, rising from his chair. "The physicians will check on you soon. If you need anything just ring the bell. I'll make sure someone responds immediately."
He moves toward the door, then pauses, looking back at me.
"Whatever happened to you, whatever you're running from… it ends here. You're under the protection of Valmont's House now. That means something in Ziana, believe me."
He leaves me then, closing the door softly behind him. I sink back against the pillows, exhausted but no longer terrified. For the first time in what feels like forever, I'm not alone.
The days blur together as my body slowly heals.
Kyrell visits often, bringing food that actually tastes like something, asking how I'm feeling, ensuring my comfort, talking to me and offering a comfort of his company.
He doesn't press for more information. Doesn't demand I tell him who I am or what happened. He simply... sits with me. Talks about inconsequential things, makes me feel like a person rather than a problem to be solved.
By the fifth day, I'm strong enough to sit up without wanting to scream. By the seventh, I can stand and walk a few steps, though my body still protests every movement.
"My father would like to meet you," Kyrell says on the eighth day. "If you're feeling well enough, of course. He's heard you're recovering, and he wants to welcome you properly to our home once he’ll finish with his matters of business."
Fear spikes through me immediately. "What did you tell him about me?"
"Only that I found you injured in the woods, that you're recovering, and that you're under our protection. Nothing more. Your secrets are yours to share or keep."
I nod slowly, believing him. Meeting the Duke feels dangerous, but I can't hide in this room forever. And if I'm truly under Valmont's House protection, I should probably meet the man responsible for that protection.
Kyrell helps me walk to a sitting room flooded with afternoon light after one of the maids helped get dressed into a proper light blue dress she offered me with a smile. My legs are still weak, and I'm grateful for his arm supporting me. Even as I feel guilty for how aware I am of his strength and warmth of his solid body.
Duke Phideus rises as we enter. He's imposing—tall like his son, silver-haired, with the bearing of a man accustomed to command and respect. His eyes are sharp, assessing, but not unkind.
"My lady." He bows slightly, which surprises me given that I'm a stranger of unknown origin in his home. "Welcome to Valmont's House. I’m Duke Phideus and I told you've had a difficult journey. Please, sit. You shouldn't be standing so soon after your injuries."
Kyrell helps me into a chair, then steps back, though he remains close.
"My son tells me you're in need of sanctuary," Duke continues, settling into his own chair. "Whatever circumstances brought you to our woods, I want you to know…"
His gaze drops to my throat. To the medallion hanging there, visible above the neckline of the borrowed dress I'm wearing.
The Duke's face goes completely white. He rises from his chair so abruptly it nearly tips over. Steps toward me, his hand reaching out as if to touch the medallion, then stopping mid-air. His whole body trembles.
"Where..." His voice shakes violently. "Where did you get that medallion?"
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