Darian hadn’t been around when William gave Neria her glasses. Unfortunately for him, he had been summoned by his uncle over some lands in the east that he wanted to take away from the farmers. Darian had to force himself not to punch his uncle in the face for taking from people who were already struggling. Now he had a court meeting tomorrow to discuss it with the other corrupt vassals of the imperial court, and the thought alone was enough to sour his mood.
Hartley had told him that the girl had behaved while he was gone. She had apparently been delighted to have her sight again and had spent most of the day looking around her room, acting like any other person would after being given back something she had lost.
Darian couldn’t deny that it was good news. At least she hadn’t caused any trouble in his absence.
Now he walked down the hallway toward her room, which also happened to be the same corridor that led to his study. His hands were tucked into his pockets, his hair left loose around his face, and there was a slight ease in his shoulders after the long journey back. He slowed when he saw Fiona coming toward him with a basket filled with clothes.
The girl immediately bowed, adjusting the basket against her hip as she prepared to walk past him. For some reason, Darian turned his head.
"Fiona, is it?"
The girl stopped and turned back toward him. "Yes?"
His eyes drifted toward the basket in her hands. "Those are..."
"Neria’s," she answered before he could finish.
Darian slowly nodded. Thinking about it now, the girl was living far too comfortably for someone who was supposed to be a prisoner, especially one who had murdered seven people.
"What has she been up to?" he asked the maid.
Fiona went quiet for a moment, apparently thinking about it before answering. "Nothing really. She just stares out the window, eats, sleeps and does what she’s been told."
Darian’s brows drew together slightly.
Does what she’s been told?
That was new.
Maybe she was learning.. but he could never know with that one.
He nodded and turned to continue toward his study, but the maid’s voice stopped him.
"Um... Your Grace?"
Darian glanced back.
Fiona shifted the basket against her hip, suddenly looking much less confident than she had a moment ago. "I was wondering if I could take her outside to the gardens..."
Darian frowned.
He turned fully toward the girl, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Outside?"
The maid immediately took a small step back. "It’s just... Nerry has been inside for so long, and I was thinking some fresh air would be good for her." The words came out quickly, almost as though she was afraid he might refuse before she could finish explaining.
Darian didn’t say anything for a moment. His eyes remained fixed on the pigtailed girl standing in front of him, studying her expression as though he could find the reason behind the request simply by looking at her.
The gardens weren’t exactly dangerous, but allowing Neria outside meant giving her more freedom than he had originally intended. He had already learned that the Calypso was unpredictable, and after everything that had happened, he wasn’t inclined to make careless decisions regarding her.
Still, she had apparently been behaving herself.
Darian’s gaze shifted briefly toward the corridor that led to her room before returning to Fiona.
"I will think about it."
He turned away from her before she could say anything else and continued toward his study, leaving Fiona standing there with the basket still held against her hip.
Soon, Darian found himself standing in front of her doors.
He wasn’t entirely sure why he had come here. Perhaps he wanted to see her for himself. Hartley had said she had been behaving, Fiona had said she had been behaving, and yet something about it still didn’t sit right with him. Neria had never been this quiet before.
The guards pushed open the doors, and Darian immediately frowned when his eyes landed on her.
Neria was crawling across the marble floor, her movements frantic as her hands searched over the cold surface. She kept brushing her palms across the floor, feeling around every corner as though she had lost something important.
Darian stepped inside, and the doors closed behind him. At the sound of his footsteps, Neria immediately lifted her head. "Fiona?" Her voice trembled. "I can’t find my necklace, Fiona."
Darian’s eyes moved toward the side table where her spectacles had been left.
Oh.
She must have taken them off and now couldn’t recognize who had entered the room.
Neria moved even faster, her hands sweeping across the marble as she searched for the necklace. "Where is it?" Her voice cracked slightly, and Darian watched as panic slowly settled over her features.
He crouched a short distance from her, studying her carefully. Her sapphire eyes looked strangely clouded maybe it was her new blindness causing it, and tears were running down her cheeks.
Tears?
Darian hadn’t expected that.
He reached forward and caught her chin, forcing her head toward him. Neria immediately stiffened and tried to pull away.
"Who are you?"
Darian ignored the question. His thumb brushed over one of the tears on her cheek, not because he felt sorry for her. He wasn’t even sure why he had done it. Perhaps he was simply curious to see how she would react.
"What are you looking for?"
"My shell necklace." Her answer came immediately, almost desperate.
Darian’s gaze dropped toward her trembling hands as they continued searching the floor.
"The necklace you always wear?"
Neria nodded, her lips pressing together as another tear slipped down her cheek.
"Yes...."
Darian studied her for another moment. This had been the first time she had cried so raw in front of him, he wasn’t sure she cried this much when they have her to him.
His eyes roamed around the room, searching for the necklace she had been so frantic to find. It didn’t take long before he spotted a small glint of shell beneath the bed.
Darian straightened and walked toward it, crouching down to pick it up from the floor. The moment the necklace touched his fingers, Neria’s head turned slightly in his direction, as though she had somehow sensed where it was.
He walked back toward her and caught her arm, forcing her to her feet before pulling her closer. Neria stumbled slightly from the sudden movement, but Darian didn’t bother to steady her.
Instead, he pushed her hair away from her neck and let it fall over her shoulder. "You wear it on the collar?" he asked, his eyes settling on the shell resting against the metal.
Neria nodded.
Darian looked at the necklace for a moment before glancing back at her.
He had seen her touch it countless times since she arrived. Whenever she was nervous, upset or simply thinking, her fingers always seemed to find their way to the shell.
Apparently, it was more important to her than he had realized.
He placed the necklace around her neck, carefully tying the string behind her. The moment he let go, Neria’s hands immediately went to the shell. Her fingers traced over the smooth surface, almost reverently.
The tears had already begun to dry, leaving faint trails down her cheeks.
"Thank you."
Darian paused.
Thank you?
That was new.
Neria had rarely thanked him for anything. Most of their conversations ended with her glaring at him or finding some way to remind him that he was like every other landwalker.
Yet there was no defiance in her voice this time. She sounded almost relieved.
Darian glanced at her one last time before turning toward the doors. He didn’t say anything else as he walked out, leaving Neria alone in the room with her necklace clutched safely between her fingers.
.
.
.
Neria kept one hand around her shell necklace, gently running her thumb over its smooth surface as Fiona stood behind her, carefully drying the last of the water from her hair.
"What face did he make when you asked about the garden?" Neria asked quietly.
"Guarded," Fiona answered.
Neria hummed softly.
Of course he had been.
She had expected it. Darian wasn’t the kind of man who would simply allow her to wander around the estate because a servant asked him nicely. But that was exactly why Neria had wanted Fiona to ask him.
She had known he would become curious. She had known he would want to see her for himself. And when he came to her room, she had been ready.
The necklace hadn’t been lost by accident. Neria had deliberately left it beneath the bed before taking off her spectacles, knowing that without them she wouldn’t be able to see well enough to find it herself.
All she had needed was for Darian to walk through the door. Then she had played the part of a frightened, helpless girl searching desperately for the one thing she couldn’t bear to lose.
Like a lost cat.
A harmless Calypso.
Someone who needed to be taken care of rather than feared.
Neria’s fingers continued to caress the shell as she thought about the way Darian had looked at her. For a brief moment, his suspicion had disappeared beneath something else.
Curiosity.
And that was enough.
She had gotten him to come to her without asking for him, and more importantly, he had left without punishing her.
Perhaps her plan would work after all.