Chapter 29 – The Question She Can’t Ask

As the sun filtered through the curtains. The warmth of it should have been comforting, but inside, she felt anything but at ease.

Her thoughts swirled, refusing to settle.

She kept thinking about what the servant had told her earlier.

"This is one of Master Leonidas' properties, but he hardly ever stays here… until now."

She had nodded at the time, said nothing, but inside… she had been unable to push the nagging feeling away.

Why?

Why here?

Why now?

Leonidas owned many properties. He was a man of wealth, power—he could stay anywhere he pleased. Why bring her to a place he barely lived in?

And more importantly… why did he stay the moment she arrived?

She let out a slow breath, trying to make sense of it all.

Everything about this house felt new to her, but it also felt… strange.

It was grand, undeniably luxurious, yet somehow lifeless.

There were no personal touches, no lived-in warmth, no signs that a man like Leonidas had ever truly called this place home.

The study, the grand halls, even his bedroom—everything was meticulously arranged but devoid of any presence.

Restless, Anastasia rose from her seat and wandered through the halls.

She hadn't explored much of the estate, but now, her feet carried her with purpose.

Toward his study.

The door was slightly ajar.

Hesitantly, she pushed it open, stepping inside.

The room smelled of leather and ink, polished wood and something deeper—something that reminded her of him.

A large, imposing desk sat in the center, bookshelves lined the walls, and a fireplace—untouched—stood in the corner.

Everything was too perfect.

Too untouched.

It didn't feel like a place he used often.

Her gaze drifted to the desk, its surface neat, yet something caught her eye.

A drawer, slightly open.

Her pulse quickened.

She shouldn't.

She knew she shouldn't.

But something inside her whispered—look.

And so, she did.

Her fingers trembled slightly as she pulled it open further.

Inside, among the neatly stacked documents, was a small, old key.

She lifted it carefully, studying it.

It wasn't ornate or decorative—just a simple, worn key.

But… why was it here?

What did it open?

A door? A box?

Her mind raced with questions.

And then—

Footsteps.

Her heart lurched as she quickly placed the key back, shutting the drawer just as a soft knock came from the doorway.

She turned sharply, breath caught in her throat.

A servant stood there, bowing slightly.

"Madam, would you like to take lunch in the garden today?"

Anastasia swallowed, trying to calm her racing heart.

"…Yes," she murmured, stepping back from the desk. "That would be nice."

The sun was warm against her skin as she sat at the small round table in the garden.

The gentle rustling of leaves, the soft chirping of birds—it should have been peaceful.

But her mind was anything but.

Her fingers absently traced the rim of her teacup, her thoughts circling back to the key.

Why had she found it?

Had he left it there on purpose?

Or had it been a mistake?

She didn't know.

And not knowing made her uneasy.

She barely touched her lunch, staring out at the flowers but not really seeing them.

Her thoughts were far away.

Far away… and yet focused on one person.

Leonidas.

She was still lost in thought when a servant approached, carrying a small velvet box.

"Madam, this arrived for you."

Anastasia blinked.

"For me?"

"Yes. From Master Leonidas."

Her fingers hesitated before reaching for the box.

It was soft to the touch, the deep blue velvet rich beneath her fingertips.

Slowly, she lifted the lid.

Inside, resting against the silk lining, was a bracelet.

Delicate, shimmering in the afternoon light.

Gold intertwined with tiny diamonds, elegant and simple, yet undeniably beautiful.

She swallowed, her chest tightening.

Why?

Why would he send her this?

Why today?

Her fingers brushed over the bracelet, a strange warmth spreading through her.

Did he want her to wear it?

She didn't understand him.

She didn't understand what he wanted from her.

And yet…

Her hands moved before she could stop herself.

She put it on.

As the evening approached, she found herself unconsciously preparing.

She bathed, taking longer than usual, the warm water soothing against her skin.

She reached for a simple yet elegant dress, something soft, flowing—something she knew he would like.

She told herself it didn't matter.

That she was simply dressing for the evening, as any wife should.

But deep down, she knew better.

She wanted him to look at her again.

And that realization made her heart race.

The house shifted the moment he arrived.

She could feel it—the servants moving swiftly, the quiet hum of anticipation in the air.

And then—

The doors opened.

And he stepped inside.

His presence was immediate, suffocating, inescapable.

Tall, powerful, dressed in his usual dark attire, Leonidas exuded control—but the moment his eyes landed on her, something flickered beneath the surface.

Relief?

Satisfaction?

Something more?

Anastasia remained still, standing near the staircase, her hands clasped together.

His gaze flickered down.

To the bracelet.

His lips curved into the slightest smirk.

"It suits you," he murmured.

Her breath caught.

She wanted to ask—why?

Why bring her here?

Why stay?

Why her?

But the words never left her lips.

Because the moment he stepped closer, the moment his fingers brushed against her cheek, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear—

The question vanished.

Dinner was quiet.

Not because they had nothing to say, but because too much was left unsaid.

Leonidas watched her too closely.

And Anastasia…

Anastasia hesitated.

Should she tell him about the key?

Should she ask?

But something held her back.

A feeling. A whisper of doubt.

After dinner, they moved to the lounge.

It had become routine now, these nights of sitting together, the space between them growing smaller and smaller.

And when he pulled her close, when she rested her head against his shoulder—

She didn't resist.

But as her eyes fluttered shut, as sleep crept in, one thought refused to leave her mind.

"If I ask him… will he tell me the truth?"