Chapter 231

Agnes

The dress I’d chosen for tonight’s banquet, hosted by Richard to celebrate our visit and our new partnership, was a deep burgundy color that complimented my skin tone. It had an elegantly beaded bodice and a flowing skirt that brushed the floor when I walked.

It would have been perfect if I could just get the damn corset tight enough.

I struggled with the laces at the back, contorting my arms in ways they weren’t meant to bend, when a knock at the door interrupted my fumbling.

“Come in,” I called, assuming it was Elijah returning from his meeting with Richard. They were discussing potential new trade routes between our territories, further cementing the newfound friendship between our packs.

Instead, Lena poked her head in. “Thea’s ready for the banquet,” she said. “I thought I’d check if you need any help as well.”

I glanced at her reflection in the mirror, then back at the loose corset strings dangling uselessly down my back. “Actually, yes,” I admitted with a sigh of relief. “I can’t seem to get these tight enough.”

Lena walked fully into the room, closing the door behind her. She was already dressed for the banquet in a simple but elegant navy blue dress that made her eyes stand out. Her hair was pulled back in a neat updo, and she wore minimal makeup.

“Turn around,” she instructed, gesturing with her finger for me to spin.

I obeyed, presenting my back to her. Her fingers deftly worked the laces, tugging and adjusting.

“So,” I said as she worked. “You mentioned you grew up around here? What was that like?”

Lena’s hands paused briefly before resuming their work. “It wasn’t exactly a fairytale…”

I tilted my head. “Oh? If you don’t want to talk about it, I understand.”

But she shook her head. “No, it’s alright. It’s just that my family was… well, poor doesn’t quite cover it. We were basically at the bottom of the pack hierarchy. My father was an Omega, and my mother was born without a wolf, so…” She shrugged.

I frowned, unable to turn to see her face. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It is what it is,” she replied. She gave the laces a firm tug, making me gasp slightly as the corset tightened around my ribs. “Hold that breath,” she instructed, then continued both the lacing and her story. “My parents worked themselves to the bone just to keep food on the table. Three kids, tiny house, never enough of anything.”

I tried to picture Lena—poised, educated Lena—growing up in such circumstances. It was hard to reconcile.

“Then when I was fifteen, there was a fever that swept through the poorer areas of the territory,” she continued, a bit more softly now. “My parents both caught it. The pack’s healers were spread thin, focusing on the higher-ranking members first.” There was a subtle edge to her words now. “By the time anyone got around to checking on families like mine… it was too late.”

“Goddess,” I breathed. “That’s awful, Lena. I had no idea.”

“How would you?” she asked, although not unkindly. “It’s not exactly something I put on my resume.”

She finished with the laces and tied them securely, patting my shoulder to indicate she was done. I turned to face her.

“What happened after that, if you don’t mind me asking?” I asked gently.

Lena shrugged once more as she moved to sit on the edge of the bed. “I became the head of the household at fifteen. Raised my younger siblings, worked whatever jobs I could find. Put myself through school, got a scholarship to college, and…” she made a sweeping gesture with her hand. “I never looked back. Well, not completely. I send money when I can. My brother and sister still live here.”

I sat down beside her, carefully arranging my skirt. “Are you going to see them while we’re here?”

“Tomorrow, hopefully,” she said with a small smile. “It’ll be nice to catch up.”

The story Lena had shared cast her in an entirely new light for me. All this time, I’d seen her as just our nanny—competent, kind, but somewhat of a mystery. Now I understood a little better why she was the way she was: composed, self-sufficient, careful.

I found myself looking directly into her eyes, searching for… I wasn’t sure what. Connection, maybe. Understanding. And as our gazes met, I braced myself for the now-familiar rush of heat that had preceded my last few fire incidents.

But nothing happened. No fire building in my veins, no dangerous warmth in my palms. Just Lena’s clear eyes looking back at me, slightly questioning at my prolonged stare.

Mentally, I exhaled with relief. Maybe those incidents really had been flukes after all—stress or anxiety manifesting through my fire abilities. Or maybe I was finally gaining some control over them.

“Agnes?” Lena asked, breaking my train of thought. “Is everything alright?”

“Yes, sorry,” I said quickly, looking away. “I was just… thinking.”

Lena was quiet for a moment. Then, in a careful tone, she asked, “Can I ask you something?”

I nodded, smoothing a nonexistent wrinkle from my dress.

“At home, I’ve noticed that sometimes you… run off to the basement,” she said, watching my face. “Like that day when you knocked into me. Is everything okay?”

My stomach twisted. Of course she would have noticed—she was observant, and it wasn’t like I’d been particularly subtle during my hasty retreats to the panic room. But I couldn’t tell her the truth, at least not yet. Not until Elijah and I had found the artifact and I had my abilities under control.

“I, um…” I swallowed, trying to think of a plausible explanation. “I get panic attacks sometimes,” I half-lied. “Elijah built a small spa area in the basement for me—it’s quiet, private. Sometimes I just need to… retreat there.”

It wasn’t entirely untrue. I did feel panic when my fire threatened to erupt, and the basement was indeed where I went to calm down.

Lena’s expression was unreadable. “Oh. I see,” she said after a moment.

The words hung between us, and I could tell she didn’t fully believe me. But to her credit, she didn’t press the issue.

“Well, if you ever need help with Thea during those times,” she offered instead, “you can just say the word. No need to explain.”

“Thank you, Lena. That means a lot.”

We fell into silence for a moment, neither quite sure where to take the conversation next. I glanced at the clock on the nightstand and realized we were cutting it close.

“We should probably head downstairs,” I said, standing. “Elijah will be wondering where I am.”

Lena stood as well, smoothing her dress. “You look beautiful, by the way,” she said with a small smile. “That color suits you.”

“Thank you,” I replied. “For that and for the help with the dress. And… for sharing your story with me.”

She nodded, her smile turning a little sad. “Sometimes it’s easier to tell those things to someone who isn’t from here. Someone who doesn’t look at you and only see where you came from.”

I understood that sentiment all too well, having spent years being judged by my own family for circumstances that were out of my control. Being treated like a basketcase simply because I wouldn’t give up searching for my daughter—only to find that it was, indeed, a conspiracy.

“Well, I’m glad you told me,” I said. “And I hope you know that’s not how I see you at all.”

Something flickered in Lena’s eyes—something I couldn’t quite decipher—before she nodded again. “I appreciate that.”

We left the room side by side, heading toward the banquet hall where the others would be waiting. Without even hesitating, I smiled at her and looped my arm through hers. She tensed slightly, as if not expecting the touch, but smiled back and matched my stride, tightening her grip on my arm.

In that moment, I felt a kinship with Lena that I hadn’t expected. We’d both had our share of struggles, had both lost people we loved, had both rebuilt our lives from broken pieces.

I supposed, in a way, I started to see her not just as a nanny… but as a friend.