Kaelen’s voice dropped lower. “I have questions. And I suspect you have answers.”
For a moment, her expression turned unreadable, her fingers brushing the silver bangles circling her wrist, the delicate clink of metal a quiet music in the otherwise hushed corridor.
“What kind of answers?” she asked, eyes narrowing.
Kaelen shook his head. “Not here. You have a study, don’t you? Somewhere private?”
She studied him for a long moment. Then, with a faint shrug, she turned on her heel.
“Follow me.”
She led him through an interior courtyard where gilded cages hung from carved beams, each alive with a riot of brightly coloured songbirds. Their trilling wove through the soft trickle of a marble fountain, the cool air heavy with the scents of damp stone and blooming orchids—delicate, extravagant things he wouldn’t have thought capable of surviving the desert’s heat.
Beyond the courtyard, she guided him down a quiet hall, their steps muffled by thick woven carpets. At the end, she pushed open an ornately carved door and stepped aside in silent invitation.
Inside, the air carried a faint trace of spiced incense, curling in the warm lantern glow. Shelves lined the walls—leather-bound tomes, lacquered boxes, delicate glass vials—an orderly accumulation of knowledge, secrets, and quiet influence.
The space was refined but unpretentious. Wealth that didn’t shout for attention because it didn’t have to. It suited her—understated, poised, enigmatic, powerful.
For an Omega with neither lineage nor noble name, Solmaz had carved out a place of consequence. The bathhouse wasn’t just a livelihood; it was a statement. A refusal to fade into the shadows.
Few Omegas were given the chance to thrive. Fewer still had the cunning to keep it.
“You’ve done well for yourself,” he remarked, a slow grin tugging at his lips. “Though I wonder what a certain desert lord thinks about you running a bathhouse instead of warming his bed. But”—he held up a hand in mock surrender—“I’ll keep my questions to myself.”
Solmaz’s smile sharpened. “Ah, subtleties. A lesson from your pursuit of a certain beautiful princess, perhaps?”
Kaelen’s amusement cooled; his grin faded.
How much of Reiya did she truly know?
“How is the princess?” she asked, as if reading his thoughts.
“Sleeping. My brother is guarding her.”
Solmaz’s gaze turned thoughtful. “The effects of Heat suppressants can be rough. I suspect her body is rejecting them. They can hold the symptoms at bay for a time, but eventually . . .” She let the words trail off, as if the answer were obvious.
Kaelen clenched his jaw, circling slowly. It didn’t surprise him she’d been taking suppressants. Travelling alone, with no trustworthy Alphas at her side, what other choice did she have?
Men like Jodhar lurked in every dark corner, making the alternative unthinkable. A slow, simmering anger burned in his gut. Like so many Omegas, she’d been forced to silence her instincts to survive.
“She was in pain,” he murmured.
“She would be in even more pain if it were true Heat,” Solmaz corrected gently. “This was only a warning.”
The thought slipped past his lips before he could stop it. “She shouldn’t have to take the suppressants anymore.”
Even as he said it, he knew it wasn’t that simple.
Solmaz studied him. “That’s her decision.”
His fingers flexed at his sides. “I know.”
But knowing didn’t make it less complicated.
He rubbed a hand over his face before levelling the woman with a steady look. “How much do you know about her?”
“Not much,” she said with a careless shrug. She gestured for him to sit in front of her desk, pouring a cup of tea with unhurried precision. The steam curled into the air, rich with saffron and chamomile.
