Chapter 141

I want to continue my research into the woman in the picture with Evan, but Hector likely has the library watched now. After what happened last time, I’m not in any kind of mood to see him again, or be tossed around in another confrontation.

Without those old newspaper resources, investigating is sure to be much more difficult this time, but I’m unwilling to give up.

Staring at the photo I’d printed of the unknown woman, I search every square inch for answers. I stare at the photo for so long that I feel like my eyes are going cross. Surely I’ve memorized every inch by now.

Then, I see it. I tiny little mark, barely noticeable, at the base of the woman’s throat.

“Bethany,” I say, lifting her attention away from the needlepoint she’s taken up while sitting beside me, idle, in my room. She’s already cleaned every inch of it. Typically, by now, I’d be out of the room, allowing her the opportunity to see to other tasks.

As Caleb hasn’t called for me as much lately, I’m stuck here. Bethany, being my handmaiden, is duty-assigned to stay by my side while I’m here.

“What is it?” she asks.

“Do you know where I can get a magnifying glass?”

Ten minutes later, Bethany returns to the room holding just what I need. Approaching me at the table, she passes it over. Then she returns to her own chair and her needlepoint.

Lifting the magnifying glass, I more carefully inspect the image. I look in the other spots first, ignoring the point of interest, just in case I missed anything. When I don’t find anything, I move the magnifying glass closer to the unknown woman’s throat.

Yes. There. I can see it now.

She’s marred with the brand of an omega. It’s distinctive in size and shape. Though it could be in any place on the omega’s body, this one is right there near her collarbone at the base of her throat.

Even seeing it clearly, I still can’t believe my eyes.

“Look at this,” I say, passing the photo and the magnifying glass to Bethany. “There on her neck. Tell me I’m not seeing things.”

Bethany lowers the needlepoint to inspect where I’ve told her. Right away, she says, “That’s the mark of an omega.”

Omegas are the lowest members of the pack. Though still ranked about servants and slaves, they cannot hold any position of importance, even to marry someone of rank. They often find their purposes in being nannies or caretakers and helping other more prominent members of the pack.

The question then is, what in the world was an omega doing, looking like a lover to Prince Evan? How could someone with such a lowly status be tied up in some kind of royal plot?

With a worried expression, Bethany hands back the photo and the magnifying glass.

“Maybe you should stop looking into this,” Bethany says. “There are old secrets here that might be better off staying buried.”

“It’s dangerous, I know,” I say. “But for Caleb, I have to find the truth.”

“You don’t think he killed his brother?”

“I do.” The evidence is clear that Caleb committed the act. “But that doesn’t mean it was unprompted.”

“You think someone put him up to it?”

I do, but I’m not willing to admit that right now. Hector’s investment in this felt like less than a father protecting his son, and more like he was defending himself.

I could be wrong, I admit that, but until I know for sure, I can’t let this go.

Knowing the woman is an omega helps a massive amount. There aren’t many omegas and all of their birthdays and locations are documented and stored in this very building. I just needed access to the records.

“Bethany…”

She has already set aside her needlepoint once more. “Come on. I’ll go with you to the record room and keep watch while you snoop.”

“Thank you,” I tell her in appreciation and gratitude. I was blessed the day Bethany was chosen to be my handmaiden. She has quickly become the best friend I’ve ever had.

Bethany leads me to the record room. The omega records are kept in thick binders lined up on a bookcase. As they are organized by pack and then year, I search first for the pack of the capital, knowing she would have had to been nearby to form a relationship with the prince.

From there, I search for the year the photo was taken.

Oddly, I find that the binder for the year I need has been removed. I go back to the year before and remove the binder. Opening it, I can see that some pages had been torn out in haste, bits of paper still attached to the binder clips.

The other omegas in the binder do not match the description. Some are too older, others are only children.

I put that binder back and then take down the one from the year before. It’s the same, with pages missing and none of the others matching the woman.

It seems as if the woman I’m searching for has been entirely removed from the public record, as if someone has scrubbed her whole existence.

I have little to no hope of finding her, then. Without even knowing her name, she is lost to me.

But I won’t give up. I might not be an omega, but I am still a lowly consort. As someone who has also been caught up in royal drama, I feel a sort of comradery with this woman.

I won’t rest until I find out who she is and make sure she’s okay. If she’s been killed in all of this, I will make sure her memory is honored, not lost to time.

“Harper,” Tristan says from the entrance of the records room. Bethany, standing behind him, gives me a worried look from behind his shoulder. She was to be lookout, but I could understand how Tristan could sneak by her guard. He is as stealthy as the come, when he wants to be.

He struts toward me, his gaze drifting down to the binder in my hand. I snap it closed.

I expect a scolding from him, likely a lecture and a threat to tell Caleb what I’ve been up to. Likely, from seeing what I’m looking at, a man as keen as him would be able to piece together what I’m searching for.

“You’ve been busy,” he says.

“Idle hands make for idle minds,” I tell him. “I need to keep busy.”

He hums. His expression doesn’t change but there’s something about him, maybe the intensity of his gaze, that tells me he sees straight through me.

“Her name is Summer Robins,” he says. “I warn you, never say that name aloud. Do not even repeat it back to me.”

“Thank you –”

“Do not thank me, either,” Tristan says. “Just remember it, and do with it as you will. If you are caught in your carelessness, I will not save you.”

Swallowing thickly, I reply, “I understand. But if I could ask you –”

“I will not explain more,” Tristan says firmly. “Now, wrap up what you are doing here. Caleb needs you.”