CHAPTER 61: CHAPTER 61: I NEED TO THINK.

Elias toweled off slowly, letting the residual heat from the shower sink into his skin. The wardrobe in the guest room had already been stocked, someone had thought ahead, or more likely, Victor had ordered it without comment.

A neat stack of folded clothes waited on a low bench near the bed. Dark jeans, a soft gray shirt, and a cardigan so fine it might as well have been spun from shadow and air. He dressed without hurry, the fabric brushing cool against his skin, sleeves fitting just a little too perfectly.

He paused at the mirror, fingers brushing his damp hair back from his forehead.

The person looking back at him felt different, tired, sharpened at the edges by everything that had happened in the last four days. Danger, obsession, safety that felt like a gilded cage... and Victor, always Victor, with his steady voice and hidden truths.

Elias slipped on the plain leather shoes left beside the wardrobe and stood still for a moment, the suite silent around him. He hadn’t asked anyone for permission to leave. Robert hadn’t said he couldn’t. And staying here, in Victor’s carefully curated calm, felt like it would smother him.

He moved to the door, hand on the cool brass handle.

’I need to think.’

The door opened with a soft click. The hallway beyond stretched wide and quiet, the kind of quiet that came not from emptiness but from the weight of walls that had seen too much.

Victor’s "manor," they called it, but stepping out into the corridor now, Elias couldn’t help but think the word was a lie born of modesty or misdirection. The ceilings soared high above him, paneled in dark wood and lined with subtle recessed lights. Columns framed alcoves that held pieces of art that belonged in a museum. The marble beneath his feet shifted in tone every few meters, intricate patterns worked in so flawlessly it was easy to forget how expensive that kind of detail was.

This wasn’t a manor.

It was a palace masquerading as one.

Elias started walking, keeping his pace unhurried, letting his hands brush occasionally against the cool railing when the hall curved into a balcony that overlooked an inner courtyard. Sunlight poured through the high windows, catching on the silver mist of a fountain far below.

The further he went, the more he felt the sheer scale of the place press against him, its silence wasn’t empty after all. It was heavy, like the walls themselves were listening.

It was absurd. Four days ago, he’d been teaching, running labs, dodging Matteo’s too‑familiar smiles in the hallways, trying to live quietly. Now he was here, wandering halls filled with carved stone and ancient sigils, caught up in something far larger than himself.

He stopped near a set of arched windows, palms resting lightly on the ledge as he gazed down at a formal garden carved into the heart of the estate. Orderly hedges, dark pools of water, statues weathered by time but still standing proud. A wind caught the leaves, stirring them like whispers.

’How the hell do I handle this?’

Matteo’s voice still lurked in the back of his mind, that poisonous devotion.

Victor’s kiss still lingered on his skin, and the strange, unspoken truths still shadowed his every thought.

He breathed out slowly, watching the distant curve of a path below, a single guard strolling its length with his hands clasped behind his back.

’Four days, Elias thought. Four days, and my entire world flipped inside out.’

—

Elias adjusted the cuff of his cardigan, shoved his hands into his pockets, and set off down the next corridor, ready to explore the palace for what it was and maybe, for the first time since arriving, carve out a space that was his.

The halls wound on in quiet turns, each passageway opening into another stretch of muted grandeur. He passed a series of tall windows, their panes thick and faintly tinted, revealing glimpses of sculpted courtyards and long stone staircases that vanished into shaded gardens. Every so often, a guard in tailored black crossed his path, offering a polite nod but never speaking. The staff here were ghosts, efficient and silent, leaving him alone with the echo of his own footsteps.

A set of double doors stood ajar to his left, and curiosity tugged at him. He paused, one hand brushing the polished handle before pushing gently. The hinges moved without a sound.

Inside was a sitting room, elegant in a way that matched the rest of the estate, muted luxury, careful curation. The light was softer here, filtered through tall, sheer curtains that turned the sun into a pale gold wash. A low sofa upholstered in deep gray velvet sat before a marble hearth, though no fire burned. Shelves lined one wall, filled not just with books but with carefully chosen pieces, sculptures, artifacts, and small things that looked far older than the building itself.

Elias stepped inside, letting the door ease shut behind him. His eyes wandered over the room’s quiet details: a decanter of amber liquid on a sideboard, two crystal glasses resting beside it, and an armchair pulled slightly askew as though someone had only just vacated it. He moved further in, drawn toward a tall window that framed another angle of the garden below.

He didn’t hear the soft footfall at first.

"Exploring?"

Elias turned, hands still in his pockets. Ashwin stood just inside the doorway, one shoulder leaning lightly against the frame, his dark jacket catching a stray thread of sunlight. His posture was easy, but there was something in his eyes, an edge of caution, a thought he seemed to wrestle with even as he offered a faint smile.

"Seems I am," Elias said, voice even. "I didn’t think anyone would mind."

Ashwin shook his head, stepping further into the room. "You’re free to wander. This place is... overwhelming the first time." His tone softened on the last words, something almost human breaking through the polished edge of a soldier. He glanced toward the window, then back at Elias, his jaw shifting like he wanted to say more, something heavier, but stopped himself.

Elias tilted his head, catching that flicker of hesitation. "You look like you’ve got something on your mind."

Ashwin’s mouth curved in a small, wry smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. "I always do." His gaze flicked toward the door as if checking who might be near, then back to Elias. "You should know... not everyone in these halls would welcome you. They’re loyal to Victor, but loyalty can... warp things."

Elias felt the weight behind the words, the warning layered beneath them. But he didn’t push. He wouldn’t drag someone like Ashwin into deeper danger by making him say more than he already had. "Thanks," Elias said simply, his voice low but sincere. "I’ll keep that in mind."

For a moment, the silence stretched again, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Ashwin seemed at ease in a way Victor never did; he carried it differently, quietly, without the sharp gravity that clung to Victor.

And it was that difference that made Elias exhale, a fraction of the tension in his chest loosening as they spoke. He hadn’t realized until now how tightly wound he’d been. With Ashwin, the air felt... easier.

Ashwin gave him a brief nod, then gestured lightly toward the far side of the room. "If you want, I can show you more of the estate. The west library’s through there. It’s quieter, fewer guards, a good place to think."

Elias considered, then nodded. "Lead the way."