A glimmer of relief softened her expression. “Truly? You’d do that?”
“Of course,” I said, my restlessness finally finding an outlet.
Reyna smiled. “And we’ll bring them food. They must be starving, working all hours without a proper break.”
“Oh, my god,” I breathed, realization dawning on me. “Why didn’t I think of that before? To bring them food…” Shame flickered through me as I realized how consumed I’d been by my concerns, oblivious to their relentless efforts.
“Let’s not waste any time then,” Reyna said, her voice gaining strength. “I’ll prepare the food. We’ll make it a feast to bolster their spirits.”
“Perfect,” I said, the thrill of action quickening my pulse. “And maybe we can help in other ways too. It’s about time we did more than wait.”
Our plans were nearly set when the faint rustle of silk on marble heralded Alina’s arrival. She swept into the room with an air of forced grace, her eyes bright with a spark of unbidden enthusiasm.
“I couldn’t help but overhear,” she said, clasping her hands together in a gesture that seemed part plea, part performance. “You’re going to the caves, aren’t you? Take me with you.”
I stiffened, exchanging a brief, strained glance with Reyna.
“Mother,” I said gently, though my patience frayed at the edges, “this isn’t an excursion. It’s dangerous, and we’ll be fine on our own.”
For a fleeting moment, disappointment flickered across her face, unguarded and raw. But before she could respond, Mathias strode into the room, his presence heavy and commanding, like a storm cloud darkening the horizon.
“Listen to your mother,” he said. “You’re heavy with child, Olivia. Your safety must come first.”
His words, though cloaked in concern, wrapped around me like chains. The warmth that once defined his gaze now seemed a veil for something colder, something darker.
“Mathias,” I replied, my voice steady despite the turmoil roiling beneath the surface, “I’m aware of my condition, but I don’t need a bodyguard or protection.”
The memory of Balthazar’s son flashed in my mind, and the brutal moment of his death was seared into my consciousness. Mathias had called it justice, but the savagery of the act lingered like a shadow in my dreams, painting him in ominous shades of malice.
“Olivia, dear,” Mathias said, stepping closer, his hand raised as if to offer a benediction or perhaps to seize control. “Consider what you risk.”
Was his concern genuine, or did he savor the power he held over us all? The doubt gnawed at me, sharp and relentless, a weight I couldn’t cast off.
“I have considered it,” I said, summoning what was left of my resolve. “And I must go. Not just for myself, but for all of us.”
Mathias narrowed his eyes ever so slightly, and I wondered if I’d glimpsed the man’s true face behind the guise of benevolence. “You must take care.”
“Fine,” I relented, the word tasting like acid on my tongue. “My mother can come, but only for protection.”
A flicker of softness passed through my mother’s gaze as though I had granted her the world. But beneath my concession, resentment churned, simmering like a storm held barely in check.
The carriage rattled along the uneven path, its wheels clattering against stones as we left Mathias’ estate behind. Our bountiful food offering sat in a hand-woven wicker basket between Reyna and me, overflowing with colorful fruits, freshly baked bread, and savory dishes. My mother sat opposite me, her eyes sharp and vigilant as if scanning for unseen threats. I stared out the window, tracing the elaborate woodwork of the carriage door with my fingers, trying to ignore the growing tightness in my belly.
“Are you alright, Olivia?” Reyna asked, her voice tinged with concern.
“Fine,” I said through gritted teeth, pressing one hand against my abdomen. “It’s just... discomfort.”
The lie fell flat even to my ears.
A sharp contraction tore through me, and I gasped, my free hand gripping the seat for support.
“Olivia,” my mother said, reaching out to steady me, her touch feather-light yet unwelcome. “You need to stay calm. Take deep breaths. Take a couple with me…”
She inhaled deeply, but I ignored her.
“Mom, I don’t.” My words were cut short as another contraction, fiercer than the last, wrenched through me. I clutched at the seat, panic rising alongside the pain.
“Olivia, this journey might not have been wise,” Reyna said, caution threading her usually serene tone. She exchanged a look with my mother, who bit her lip but remained silent.
