Page 17 of Monster's Secret Baby

"Damn it all." I unfurl my wings and launch myself skyward with one powerful thrust, not caring who sees me leave. The cool morning air rushes past as I soar over New Solas, toward Lord Arkan's estate in the northern district.

My landing in Arkan's courtyard is less than graceful. A pair of his servants scatter, dropping their bundles of linens as I crash into a decorative fountain. Water sprays outward, soaking my wings, but I barely notice. I shake them once, droplets flinging in every direction, before stalking toward the house.

"Where is she?" I demand of a terrified housemaid who's frozen in the doorway.

"My—my lord? Who?—"

"Harmony. The gardener."

The woman's eyes widen. "I haven't seen?—"

I brush past her, every muscle in my body tense as I stride through hallways I've visited countless times before. I find myself in the kitchens, where Harmony often works on rainy days, helping prepare meals with herbs from her garden.

"Has anyone seen Harmony today?" My voice booms over the clattering of morning preparations. The kitchen staff freeze, looking between themselves nervously.

An older woman—Cook—steps forward, wiping her hands on her apron. "She hasn't been in since yesterday morning, Master Vey. Went out to the gardens and never came back for the evening meal."

My heart constricts. Yesterday morning. She never returned.

I turn, heading toward her little cottage that I know she has on the edges of Arkan's land. I slip outside, my wings propelling me forward as I rush to the little cottage.

The door isn't locked. I push it open to find a small, neat room with a narrow bed draped in a handmade quilt. A single shelf holds a collection of smooth river stones, dried flowers, and a charcoal sketch I drew of her months ago. The tiny window overlooks the kitchen gardens where she spends most of her days.

But the wardrobe stands open. Empty.

"No," I breathe, crossing the room in two strides. I run my hands along the bare shelves, finding only dust and a forgotten handkerchief. Her scent still lingers—sun-warmed earth and herbs—but it's fading, mocking me with its impermanence.

A sound from the doorway makes me whirl around, wings flaring defensively.

"Damn it, Adellum, watch those things," Lord Arkan snaps, ducking to avoid a wing-tip. "You're tearing my house apart. What in Solas's name are you doing?"

Arkan—my friend, my patron, my occasional confidant—looks more annoyed than concerned. His own wings, the white of old nobility though they are a little dappled, are folded neatly against his back, perfectly controlled as always.

"Where is she?" I grip his shoulders, not caring about propriety or rank. "Harmony. Where is she?"

Arkan's expression shifts from irritation to confusion. "How should I know? Probably in the gardens, where she belongs."

"She's gone." My voice cracks. "Her things are gone."

Arkan pulls free of my grasp, straightening his jacket with a disapproving frown. "The servants said you were causing a disturbance, but I didn't expect... this." He gestures at me—wild-eyed, soaking wet from the fountain, my wings trembling with barely contained panic.

"Help me find her," I say, hating the pleading note that's crept into my voice.

"Adellum," Arkan says slowly, as if speaking to a child, "she's a servant. Servants sometimes leave. There are dozens more I can hire."

I take a step toward him, electricity crackling around my fingertips. "She's not replaceable."

Something shifts in Arkan's eyes then—understanding, perhaps, or disappointment. He always knew that I was with her, but maybe he never understood how deep it ran.

He sighs heavily. "I told Sior you'd grown too attached. That's why he arranged the meeting with Lilleth, wasn't it? To redirect your... attentions."

The confirmation that Sior had discussed me—discussed Harmony—with Arkan sends a fresh surge of anger through me. I slam my fist into the wall, leaving a dent in the plaster.

"Did either of you think to ask what I wanted?"

Arkan has the grace to look abashed. "We thought we knew. Power, connections, your art reaching new heights?—"

"I don't want any of it without her!" The words tear from my throat, raw and bleeding. I sink onto the edge of her empty bed, my wings drooping with sudden exhaustion. "Tell me where she is, Arkan. Please."

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