Chapter 158: THE MESSENGER
KEISHA’S POV
I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, careful not to look up at either Dane or Callum.
This was pure torture, and Diane’s comments weren’t making it any better.
Flashes of the past rolled back in my mind — the way they would take me apart over and over, their grunts filling the air as their cock speared into me relentlessly.
Oh goddess.
I realised I had been absent-mindedly pushing food around my plate for several minutes when Vera noticed.
"You’re hardly eating." Her gentle voice pulled everyone’s attention toward me, and I looked up to find several concerned faces studying me from across the table.
Oh.
"I’m fine," I answered, forcing a small smile that felt far less convincing than I had hoped. "I’m just a little tired."
"Tired people should eat even more," Vera replied warmly. "Your body already has enough work to do without you skipping meals."
I forced my smile. "I know."
She reached for one of the serving bowls as though intending to refill my plate herself. "Just a little more."
I appreciated her concern more than she probably realised, but I knew forcing another bite down would accomplish nothing.
What i needed now was to be touched by both of them. And I couldn’t afford to give in to that right now. I needed to put some space between us immediately.
"I’d rather get some rest," I said quietly as I pushed my chair back, refusing to meet Callum’s or Dane’s worried gaze. "Please don’t worry. I’ll be alright."
Vera looked unconvinced, though she didn’t insist any further. She merely reminded me not to stay awake too late before returning her attention to everyone else at the table.
I excused myself and quietly left the dining room.
As soon as I got to my room, I shut the door behind me, willing the thoughts away as I tried to think of better stuff.
How many enemies did I have without even knowing it? How many faces had smiled at me while secretly wishing I disappeared?
Fuck, I needed some air.
A sudden flutter of black feathers made me stop so abruptly that my heart skipped a beat.
Perched neatly on the outer ledge was a raven. It remained perfectly still, its dark eyes fixed on me with an intensity that felt almost unsettling. Most birds would have flown away the moment someone approached, yet this one didn’t seem frightened in the slightest. It simply tilted its head slightly, watching me as though it had been expecting me to arrive.
I approached carefully, watching it but the bird made no attempt to escape.
When I finally reached the window and slowly pushed it open, it remained perched exactly where it was. For a brief moment I found myself admiring it. Its feathers shimmered beneath the evening light with hints of deep blue hidden among the black, and despite its ordinary appearance, there was something strangely elegant about the creature.
Only then did I notice the small leather tube secured carefully around one of its legs.
A message.
Confusion replaced my curiosity, and my fingers hesitated only briefly before gently removing the tube and sliding out the tightly rolled piece of parchment hidden inside.
It was single message written in hurried handwriting.
’Someone inside the estate intends to kill you.’
My breath caught and the words blurred for a moment before I forced myself to continue reading but that was all.
Who had went this?
The handwriting meant nothing to me. The wording offered no explanation as to who it might be too. Whoever had written it clearly knew enough to warn me but not enough to identify the person they believed was after my life.
Or perhaps... They knew exactly who it was and simply refused to tell me.
I looked up sharply. The raven was still waiting, it hadn’t moved and an idea struck me immediately.
I hurried to my desk, pulled a sheet of paper from the drawer and scribbled the first question that came to mind.
’Who are you?’ Beneath it, I added another. ’Who is trying to kill me?’
I folded the note tightly, slipped it into the same leather tube and carefully secured it back around the raven’s leg. "If you’re really expecting a reply," I murmured softly, "then please come back."
The bird stared at me for another second before spreading its wings and with a powerful beat of black feathers, it launched itself into the night sky.
I remained standing by the open window long after it had disappeared from sight.
Someone inside the estate.
Callum lived here. Dane lived here. Nadia. Becca. The guards. Servants. Vera. Dozens of people passed through the mansion every day. Any one of them could be hiding something. Or perhaps none of them.
Maybe the warning itself was another trap designed to make me suspicious of everyone around me.
I climbed into bed eventually, but I couldn’t sleep, my senses on high alert.
Because I didn’t know what that letter truly meant.
************
The following morning met me still bothered and tired after getting little sleep.
After washing and getting dressed, I made my way downstairs expecting to find Becca already preparing breakfast.
Instead, I stopped halfway into the kitchen. "Nadia?"
She looked up from the counter with an almost guilty smile. "Morning."
"What are you doing?"
The kitchen was filled with the aroma of herbs steeping in hot water. Several small jars had been opened across the counter and I saw a steaming teapot.
"I’m making something for you."
I walked closer, curiosity replacing my lingering exhaustion. "For me?"
She nodded while stirring the mixture carefully. "Pregnancy tea."
I blinked. "I didn’t know there was such a thing."
"There is." She reached for another tiny pouch containing dried leaves. "Apparently these herbs help with nausea, improve circulation and are generally good during pregnancy."
I watched her work with surprising confidence. "Since when do you know anything about herbs?"
She laughed softly. "I don’t."
"Then who taught you?"
"Vera." She shrugged.
That answer caught me slightly off guard.
"She gave me the herbs last night before bed," Nadia explained. "She said her grandmother used the same mixture years ago and swore by it. I figured it couldn’t hurt to try."
I leaned against the counter, quietly watching the steam curl upward from the teapot.
There was something oddly comforting about the sight.
Nadia measured each ingredient with care, checking the notes Vera had written down beside her every few seconds to make sure she wasn’t making a mistake. She looked so focused that it was difficult not to smile.
"You really didn’t have to do all this." I muttered.
"I wanted to." Her answer came so naturally that my chest tightened.
For several moments, neither of us spoke.
A lot had changed.
Not long ago, Nadia could barely look at me without remembering everything that had happened between me and her dad.
Now she was standing in the kitchen before sunrise, making tea because she wanted to take care of me.
The guilt I’d been carrying for weeks rose quietly to the surface. "I owe you an apology." The words escaped before I could stop them.
Nadia’s hands froze and she looked up at me.
"What?"