Chapter 145: Strong
After the king disappears from sight, I rush into the opulent building they call the Daisy Palace. The name itself feels like a mockery, as if the beauty of daisies could ever mask the truth of what this place really is. It was once gifted to the previous king’s favorite concubine, my mother’s mother, as a gesture of love—or so they say. After she passed, it was given to my mother and now to me, whether I wanted it or not. This grand structure is nothing more than a gilded prison, luxurious and suffocating all at once, adorned with silks and gold but brimming with sorrow. I am surrounded by guards at every turn, their eyes cold and unyielding, ensuring I never forget that this place is as much a cage as any with iron bars.
I walk through hallways lined with maids who bow deeply, their gazes averted. I barely acknowledge them, my mind focused on one thing: getting to my daughter. I hurry to my room, my sanctuary and the only place in this palace that brings me a semblance of peace. Inside, I find Mona leaning over Mirelle’s crib, her small hands gently adjusting the blanket around my baby girl. Mona is becoming such a little lady, though she’s only twelve, with eyes far too knowing for someone her age. She turns to me and smiles, a glimpse of innocence that this world hasn’t yet stolen. It breaks my heart a little more each time.
"Hey," I whisper softly, careful not to disturb my sleeping daughter. "You can continue reading now. He’s gone."
Mona’s smile widens, relief washing over her face as she leaves the room. I watch her go, a pang of guilt twisting my gut. I brought her into this mess. I brought both of them into this mess. Ben, too—I can only pray he’s safe, somewhere out there, holding on. I try not to dwell on the circumstances that led us here.
I walk over to Mirelle’s crib and pull up a chair, sinking into it with a heaviness that has nothing to do with my body and everything to do with the exhaustion of my heart. My little angel lies there, her tiny chest rising and falling, her lips puckering in her sleep. She is so perfect, so innocent, and for a moment, I let myself smile, even if it’s tinged with sadness.
Thorne would love her. The thought pierces through me, sharp and bittersweet. He’d be wrapped around her chubby little fingers in an instant, my fierce, unbreakable Alpha brought to his knees by our daughter’s smile. I imagine him holding her, his large hands cradling her so delicately, his eyes soft in a way that only I have ever seen. The image is so vivid that it hurts, and before I know it, tears are welling in my eyes.
I blink them back, frustrated with myself. I’m not even pregnant anymore, so why am I so emotional? I sigh, dragging in a shaky breath as I try to push the ache down. I have to be strong, for Mirelle, for Mona, for everyone who depends on me. I have to be patient.
"I miss you," I whisper, my voice cracking in the quiet. "Please, find me soon."