Chapter 25
CHAPTER
TWENTY-FIVE
SOFIYA
Days pass, and I don’t see Nikolai. In fact, I don’t see anyone because I stay in my room, feigning illness. Yelena checks on me regularly, bringing meals, doting on me like a worried mother hen. She’s the one who mentions that Nikolai is out of town.
I didn’t want to face him; my emotions were a tangled mess I couldn’t begin to unravel. Knowing he’s not in the house so I won’t accidentally bump into him gives me the courage to finally leave my room.
After I shower and dress, I head down to the library, hoping to find something that will help me figure out where I am. If this estate was once owned by Catherine the Great’s niece, it must have some sort of history recorded. If I can pinpoint its location, I can pass those details on to Roman.
The library is as grand as the rest of the estate, with shelves stretching high and packed with books that smell of leather and dust. I trail my fingers along the spines, reading the faded titles.
A collection of Russian historical volumes catches my eye, their worn spines embossed with gold. I pull down a book on imperial estates and then another on notable Russian families. One by one, I gather a small stack and settle into a plush chair by the window.
Hours tick by as I sift through the books, cross-referencing passages and hunting for anything useful. All I uncover are vague mentions of grand estates—nothing concrete. Frustration bubbles over me as I toss the last book onto the floor and stretch out my back.
I wander to the window, needing a moment to clear my head. My gaze locks on to the woodlands stretching beyond the manicured grounds at the back of the property. A thought takes root: the woods are the only part of Nikolai’s estate I haven’t explored. If I’m going to find a meeting place for Roman to extract me when the time comes, it has to be there. If I can reach the boundary of the property, maybe I’ll stumble onto a road or find a landmark, anything to help figure out where I am.
I glance down at the ankle monitor. Nikolai said it only triggers if I leave his property, and the woods should still fall within the estate’s boundaries.
It’s almost three in the afternoon. The guards usually change shifts around this time, lingering to chat or grab a smoke. This is my window.
I leave the books scattered on the floor and head toward the door. There’s only enough time to run upstairs, swap this flimsy summer dress for something more practical, and put on better shoes than these slip-on sneakers.
As I rush from the library, I collide with Emil right outside the doorway.
“Whoa. Where are you running off to?” he asks, steadying me with a hand.
Emil already warned me that I’m supposed to let him know whenever I go outside, but I don’t want his company for what I have planned. If he sees me outside, I’ll need a good excuse.
I shrug. “Yelena’s giving me cooking lessons again. Figured I’d grab some herbs from the garden before we start.”
He leans against the doorframe, crossing his arms. “Cooking lessons, huh? I guess you’re feeling better?”
“Yep, thanks. Just needed a couple days of rest.”
He smirks. “Never thought the day would come that Yelena would allow anyone else in her kitchen to cook.”
“She’s trying to make me a proper wife. What about you? Do you cook?” Making small talk is the last thing I feel like doing, but I’m trying to put him at ease.
He chuckles. “Not if I can help it. House duty’s already bad enough without adding chef to the list.”
I nod, feigning sympathy. I’m running out of time to catch the shift change. “Well, I better not keep Yelena waiting.” I say a silent prayer that Emil and Yelena don’t bump into each other today and expose my lie.
He nods. “I’ll be in the surveillance room if you need me.”
I arch an eyebrow. “Where’s that?”
“Right next to Nikolai’s office. It’s got a live feed from all over the house and property. Makes my job a little easier.”
“Convenient.” My stomach sinks. Of course, there’s a surveillance room. Why didn’t I think of that before? Cameras mean someone’s always watching, even outside.
“We mostly play cards there. It’s not like anyone’s going to attack this place. Nobody even knows about it.”
If Nikolai knew that, I think he’d have a conniption, but I can use it to my advantage right now. “True. Feels like we’re really in the middle of nowhere.”
“Yeah, you could say that.” He runs a hand through his light hair. “Anyhow, you better not keep Yelena waiting. Oh, and don’t go past the garden. Anything further, and I’ll need to come with you.”
“No problem.” I watch him disappear down the hall before I take a quick glance at the clock. Crap, it’s three. Too late to change my shoes or ditch this sundress for something more practical for exploring the woods. If I’m going to do this, it has to be now.
Steeling my nerves, I step out onto the back terrace. The wide stone expanse overlooks an immaculate garden, paths of neatly trimmed hedges winding around flower beds, and a bubbling fountain at the center. Beyond the manicured beauty lies my real goal—the edge of the woods.
I hope Emil’s right that the guards watching the cameras spend most of their time playing cards.
Breathe. Don’t panic. Don’t rush .
The mantra steadies me as I walk along the garden path, keeping my pace calm.
Near the far corner of the garden, I spot two guards by a wrought iron bench. One smokes while the other gestures animatedly, caught up in conversation.
I crouch beside a large rosemary bush, pretending to study its leaves. Plucking a few sprigs, I roll them between my fingers, my gaze flicking toward the guards. Neither notices as I edge closer to the tree line, forcing myself to move slowly.
A branch cracks behind me, and my heart leaps into my throat as I whirl around, only to see a bird fluttering through the brush. God, I need to get a grip.
I keep going, staying close to the periphery as I slip into the woods. The moment I’m beneath the canopy of trees, I exhale. A few minutes later, when I look back, the estate is no longer visible, and it seems no one’s followed me.
The deeper I go, the more obvious it is how unprepared I am. The woods are thicker than I expected, with underbrush clawing at my ankles.
My sundress catches on a thorny branch for the third time, and I stop to pull it free, tearing the fabric slightly. I glance back the way I came, but there’s nothing—just trees. I’ve been trying to walk in a straight line, but at this point, who knows? Everything looks the same.
I press on, trying to keep my breathing steady, but nerves get the best of me. The longer I walk, the more it feels like I’m going in circles. Every tree looks like the last. Every shadow feels deeper. My pace falters as the weight of uncertainty settles over me.
How long have I been walking? It feels like an hour or two, but I can’t be sure. My legs are aching, my feet are blistering in these awful shoes, and my stomach won’t stop growling. I press a hand to it as if that will help. I was so focused on avoiding the guards earlier that I didn’t think to bring water or food. Stupid.
I hug myself, shivering as the cold seeps into my skin. I thought I’d have reached the edge of the property by now, but all I see are trees, with no sign of a fence or road.
Overhead, the sky darkens. Thick clouds roll in, and the air smells faintly of rain. A summer shower would normally be refreshing, but getting caught in it now would only make things worse. I square my shoulders and keep moving.
Turning back isn’t an option—not after coming this far.