The Heiress He Underestimated novel Chapter 230

Chapter 230 Behind The Glass

45 Peude

“The loneliness,” he said simply. “The main character, Aris… she’s surrounded by people, by intrigue, by danger. But at her core, she’s profoundly alone. She observes everything from a distance, like she’s behind a pane of that ghostly glass. I thought only someone who truly understood that kind of isolation could write it so precisely.”

She stopped folding. She came and sat beside him. The hospital room was quiet, the hallway outside hushed for the night.

“I was alone,” she said, the admission floating in the still air. “Not physically. I had galas, parties, ‘friends‘ and my father. But I was… a specimen under glass. The Nethys Heiress. Everyone had an idea of who I . should be. What I should want. No one saw me. So I created Aris. And her world. I gave her the cleverness I had to hide, the anger I had to swallow, the friendships I couldn’t have in real life. I gave her allies who saw through her masks. I gave her a purpose. Writing wasn’t about success, or money, or even storytelling, not really. It was about building a place where I could exist. Where I could breathe. Where I wasn’t just a pretty key to my father’s vaults.”

She looked at him. “You were the first person in the real world who made me feel like I wasn’t behind that glass. You looked at the act and saw the architect.”

He reached out, his hand still weak but steady, and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “The architect is infinitely more fascinating.”

Their quiet bubble of recovery was often punctured by the outside world, usually in the form of Clara, who had appointed herself Director of Morale.

One morning, she bustled in with two large coffee cups and a paper bag that smelled of sugar. “I come bearing gifts from the land of the functioning! One overpriced, ethically sourced latte for the lady of the house, and one… whatever this is for Grumpy.” She placed a smaller cup in front of Drakonius. “It’s herbal tea. It tastes like dirt, but Patty the Punisher said it’s good for your electrolytes or your aura or something.”

Drakonius eyed the cup with deep suspicion. “I would sell a subsidiary for a double espresso.”

Tough luck, buddy. You’re on the sad drink list now.” Clara plopped into a chair and pulled a glazed donut from the bag. “So, Frost is teaching me self–defense.”

Elera almost choked on her latte. “Frost? Teaching? Willingly?”

“I wore him down!” Clara said, taking a huge bite. “I pointed out that if I’m going to be part of this… whatever this is… super–secret rescue squad, book club, rich people drama circle… I should know how to not be a liability. Or at least how to kick someone in a sensitive place and run away screaming.”

Drakonius took a cautious sip of his dirt–tea. “And how is that going?”

“Well, yesterday he had me trying to break out of a wrist hold. I mostly just flailed and accidentally elbowed him in the stomach. He made a noise like a surprised bear. Then he said my technique was ‘enthusiastic but fundamentally unsound. Which is Frost–speak for ‘you’re a disaster, but an amusing one.” She grinned, powdered sugar on her cheek. “In return, I’m teaching him how to relax.”

Now Drakonius did choke on his tea. “You’re… teaching Frost to relax.”

12

1:32 am P P P J

Chap 280 Behind The Glass

?

“Yep! Step one: he has to sit in a chair for ten whole minutes without checking his phone, his weapon, or the security feeds. He lasts about forty–five seconds before he gets twitchy. Step two: I make him listen to smooth jazz. The look on his face is like I’m waterboarding him with lukewarm water. It’s fantastic.”

Elera laughed, a real, full laugh that felt strange and wonderful in her chest. She couldn’t picture the stoic, deadly Frost subjected to Clara’s brand of cheerful torture, but the image was delightfully absurd.

“I think he likes it.” Clara confided, lowering her voice. “In his own, constipated way. He keeps showing up for ‘lessons. Last time, he almost smiled. I saw a twitch. I’m calling it progress.”

The new dynamic between Frost and Clara became a running source of gentle humor. Frost would arrive for his shift, his posture military–straight, and Clara would wave a yoga mat at him. “After your rounds, mister. We’re working on deep breathing today. Don’t make that face, it’s good for your tactical positioning or whatever.”

Frost would grunt, but the grunt was less hostile than it used to be. Once, Elera saw him, in a quiet moment, actually sitting in the chair Clara had designated the “de–stressing zone,” his eyes closed. He wasn’t relaxed, not by a normal person’s standards, but he was still. For Frost, that was a miracle.

The most anticipated, and dreaded, visit came at the start of the third week. Drakonius was in a proper chair by the window, wrapped in a blanket, dozing in a patch of weak sunlight. Elera was at the small table, going over data from the Swiss team on her laptop.

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify