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Chapter 7 - THE HEART OF THE MOUNTAIN

He led her not back to the kitchens or the cold stone corridors, but down a winding, torch-lit staircase carved deep into the bedrock beneath the palace.

As they descended, the air grew warmer, scented with the rich, earthy fragrance of damp soil, growing plants, and thermal steam.

Draven pushed open a heavy iron door, and Liora gasped.

It was a hidden conservatory—a massive underground grotto carved directly into the mountain’s thermal veins. Glass panels set into the high rock ceiling allowed the pale winter sunlight to filter down onto lush, green ferns, blooming winter-roses, and bubbling freshwater pools.

"When the palace was built centuries ago, the ancient kings created this sanctuary," Draven explained, walking slowly among the stone pathways while a pair of small, white mountain hares scampered out from beneath a fern. "They knew that winter in the north could make men go mad. They knew the beast needs quiet, not stone walls."

Liora walked beside him, trailing her fingers lightly over the velvet petals of a crimson winter-rose. "It’s beautiful. I didn't know this existed."

"Very few do," Draven replied, stopping beside a stone bench overlooking a steaming pool. "This is where I come when the silence gets too loud. When the voices of the court become too much."

He turned to face her, his expression turning serious. "Liora, I want you to be my head archivist and personal secretary. You will manage the palace library, organize the royal ledgers, and answer to no one except me. No more scrubbing floors. No more hiding behind gray wool."

Liora’s eyes widened. "Head archivist? Sire, I am an Omega servant. The high council will never accept—"

"The high council can clear out their desks if they have an issue with it," Draven interrupted, a flash of his royal authority returning. "In my court, competence and loyalty dictate rank, not secondary gender or noble bloodlines. Will you accept?"

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Liora looked around the quiet, breathtaking greenhouse, feeling the warmth of the thermal springs chase away the last remnants of the cold she had carried inside her for years.

"Yes," she said softly, a genuine smile finally breaking across her face. "I accept, Sire."

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