A merchant convoy traveling south toward Evelina had finally been confirmed, and Aurelian was finishing another round of preparations when Larissa and Alan appeared at his door with an invitation he apparently had very little opportunity to refuse.The villagers were holding a farewell gathering.
Several greenhouse workers had requested his presence, along with the farmers he had become acquainted with and a handful of patrol officers who had grown rather fond of the gentle southern baron.
Aurelian had initially protested that such an elaborate farewell was unnecessary, particularly when everyone had more important matters to attend to. Larissa had apparently disagreed, and by the time Seraphina learned of the arrangement, he had already been persuaded to spend the afternoon in the village.
She watched from one of the upper windows as he crossed the courtyard with Larissa and Alan, his golden hair tucked beneath a winter hat and a thick woolen scarf wrapped around his neck.
Several servants stopped to wish him a safe journey. One of the stable hands called something that made him laugh, and an older greenhouse worker approached with a small parcel that Aurelian accepted with both hands.
He bowed to her, prompting the woman to wave away the gesture with an embarrassed smile.
Seraphina smiled faintly.
It pleased her to see how warmly her people regarded him. Aurelian had arrived in Vaelmont as an unfamiliar southern noble, someone whose gentle manners and lack of military experience had initially inspired more curiosity than confidence. Yet in the short time he had spent among them, he had managed to become someone they would genuinely miss.
She ought to have been happy.
Instead, the sight left an uncomfortable ache beneath her ribs.
War had already taken so much of her time with him. Their days together had gradually become a collection of hurried conversations, interrupted meals, and evenings when she returned to her chambers too late to find him awake.
She had believed there would be more time to show him the north, introduce him properly to the life they might one day share, and perhaps even enjoy the ordinary pleasures of being engaged.
Now he was leaving.
Seraphina could hardly resent him for it. The circumstances had changed, and she understood the practical reasoning behind his decision. Bellafonte would need its baron if trade routes became unstable, and there was no denying that Aurelian would be safer farther from the northern border.
But understanding something did not make accepting it pleasant.
Her gaze remained on him as he approached the outer gates.
Aurelian turned briefly toward the castle, looking up at its towering walls before Larissa said something that drew his attention away. He laughed again, and the three disappeared beyond the gates.
Seraphina watched until they were gone.
Then her expression changed.
There was another matter she intended to settle before Aurelian departed.
For several days, a particular suspicion had been troubling her, one she had initially dismissed because she possessed little more than inconvenient observations and an increasingly uncomfortable instinct.
Marquis Adrian Leister.
His arrival in Vaelmont had been politically advantageous. His connections among the noble houses were valuable, and his ability to navigate difficult negotiations had already proven useful to the war effort.
Unfortunately, Seraphina had begun to suspect that his interest in northern affairs was not the only reason he had come.
She had noticed the way he watched Aurelian, the carefully arranged conversations, the familiarity with which he approached her fiancé, and the peculiar interest he seemed to take in matters that had very little to do with his responsibilities.
None of it would have been especially troubling on its own.
Adrian was an accomplished socialite. He befriended people easily, and Aurelian had always been particularly susceptible to anyone who treated him with sincere-seeming kindness.
Yet there had been something deliberate about the marquis's attention.
Something Seraphina recognized.
She had known Adrian long enough to understand that his most dangerous words were rarely the ones spoken in anger.
And Aurelian's sudden decision to leave had come shortly after another of their private conversations.
Seraphina could no longer regard the timing as an unfortunate coincidence.
She turned away from the window.
There was no reason to involve Aurelian in her suspicions, particularly when he still considered Adrian a friend. Whatever had happened between them, she intended to address it herself.
Fortunately, the opportunity presented itself sooner than expected.
The marquis was making his way through the western hall, apparently returning from a meeting with the estate's administrative officials. For once, he had neither a council member nor a collection of attendants accompanying him.
Seraphina recognized the opportunity immediately.
It took only a few long, confident strides to reach him.
"Marquis Leister."
Adrian turned, his expression brightening with the familiar ease of a man delighted by an unexpected encounter.
"Your Grace. What a pleasant surprise."
"Do you have a moment?"
"For you? Yes."
She glanced toward an adjoining receiving chamber that overlooked the western courtyard.
"Then come with me."
Something flickered across his expression, brief enough that another person might have missed it.
Adrian inclined his head.
"Of course."
He followed her inside.
The room was quiet, its hearth unlit and its heavy curtains partially drawn against the afternoon light. Seraphina waited until the marquis had entered before closing the door.
Adrian looked around with mild curiosity.
"How unusually private."
"I have a question."
"Then I shall do my best to answer it."
Seraphina turned to face him.
"What did you say to Aurelian?"
For the first time since entering the room, Adrian appeared genuinely surprised.
Or at least, he made an excellent attempt at appearing so.
"Lord Bellafonte?"
"Yes."
He considered her for a moment.
"We have had several conversations, Your Grace. Is there one in particular you are referring to?"
"The evening before he decided to return south."
Recognition settled over his features. "Yes, I believe I remember. We spoke about the approaching conflict, among other things. Lord Bellafonte was understandably concerned about his responsibilities here and in the south."
"And?"
"And I listened."
"That was all?"
"More or less."
Seraphina regarded him without speaking.
Adrian's smile became faintly apologetic.
"Forgive me, Your Grace, but I am not entirely certain what you are asking."
"I am asking whether you encouraged my fiancé to leave Vaelmont."
The marquis blinked.
"Encouraged?"
"Did you suggest that his presence here was becoming a problem?"
"Certainly not. I would never presume to make such a decision for him."
"That was not my question."
Adrian paused.
Seraphina continued before he could respond.
"Aurelian was already aware of the dangers of remaining in Vaelmont. We had discussed them together, and he understood the risks involved. Yet after speaking with you, he began questioning whether he ought to remain at all."
Adrian folded his hands behind his back.
"Perhaps the reality of the situation simply became clearer to him."
"Or perhaps someone helped him arrive at that conclusion."
The marquis sighed softly.
"Your Grace, I fear you are giving me rather too much credit. I am merely his friend."
Seraphina's eyes narrowed slightly.
"Yes. You have been very eager to remind everyone of that."
Adrian's expression remained pleasant, although something in his posture grew noticeably more attentive.
"Your Grace?"
"I have been watching you, Adrian."
The use of his given name appeared to surprise him.
"Since the night Aurelian and I became engaged, your behavior has changed. Your interest in him became considerably more personal. You sought him out repeatedly, involved yourself in his concerns, and took an extraordinary interest in the nature of our relationship."
Adrian gave a quiet, incredulous laugh.
"Surely you cannot consider friendship suspicious."
"Friendship? No. Your timing, however, is another matter."
The smile on his face diminished.
"You knew Aurelian was struggling to find his place here," Seraphina continued. "You knew how seriously he took his responsibilities toward Bellafonte and how concerned he had become about my safety. You also knew precisely which concerns would trouble him most."
Adrian regarded her for several seconds before lowering his gaze with an expression of apparent disappointment.
"I see. It seems you have already reached your conclusion."
"I am giving you an opportunity to explain."
"Then allow me."
He drew a quiet breath.
"Lord Bellafonte is an exceptionally kind man. I have never doubted his sincerity, and I would be deeply disappointed if you believed otherwise. But kindness does not make someone invulnerable."
His expression softened.
"He is far from home, surrounded by soldiers, and facing the possibility of a war unlike anything he has ever experienced. Surely you understand why I might be concerned for him."
"I understand concern. What I question is your intention."
Adrian hesitated.
Seraphina crossed her arms.
"Aurelian is perfectly capable of recognizing danger. He does not need you to explain that war is frightening, nor does he require your permission to decide whether he is useful."
Something tightened around Adrian's mouth.
"Your Grace, I never suggested otherwise."
"Then what did you suggest?"
He studied her carefully.
For a moment, the pleasant expression disappeared, replaced by something quieter and more calculating.
"I simply asked whether remaining in Vaelmont was truly the best way for him to support you."
Seraphina felt her jaw tighten.
It was not an order or even an accusation, merely a question carefully worded to make leaving seem like the most selfless answer.
Adrian continued.
"Surely that is a reasonable concern. You yourself recognize that Lord Bellafonte's presence requires certain precautions. His safety is important to you, and understandably so. As commander, you must consider whether those precautions might interfere with your responsibilities."
Seraphina stared at him.
"Do you imagine that possibility had not occurred to me?"
"Certainly not."
"Then why did you feel compelled to present it to him?"
"Because he asked for my opinion."
"And you gave him precisely the opinion most likely to make him question whether he belonged here."
Adrian's expression cooled.
"I believe you are being unfair."
"Am I?"
"I did not tell him to leave. I merely reminded him that his responsibilities extend beyond Vaelmont. His family, his territory, and the people who depend upon him deserve consideration as well. You cannot reasonably object to that."
Seraphina could not.
That was what irritated her most.
Every argument was sensible when considered individually. Bellafonte did need its baron, war was dangerous, and Aurelian was vulnerable in ways that trained soldiers were not.
She herself had raised many of those concerns.
But Adrian had taken those truths and arranged them into something else entirely.
"You told him what he stood to cost me," she said quietly.
Adrian's expression shifted.
"Pardon?"
"You may not have used those words, but that was the conclusion you wanted him to reach."
"Your Grace—"
"He came to me convinced that remaining here would make him another burden I was expected to carry."
Adrian fell silent.
Seraphina felt an unpleasant pressure settle in her chest.
She remembered Aurelian standing before her, his expression composed despite the uncertainty in his eyes. He had spoken so carefully about Bellafonte, about his responsibilities, and about how much easier things might be for her if she no longer had to worry about him.
She had thought his decision was the result of understandable fear.
Perhaps part of it had been.
But he had not sounded like the same man who had once asked her to let him remain, who had promised to obey every restriction she placed upon him because he wanted to contribute.
There had been something painfully resigned about him, and she had allowed him to leave their conversation without questioning it further.
Adrian watched her expression.
"Whatever Lord Bellafonte concluded, I assure you it was his own decision."
"Yes," Seraphina replied. "It was."
The answer appeared to catch him off guard.
"I have never doubted Aurelian's ability to make his own choices, nor do I intend to disregard this one."
"Then surely we are in agreement."
"No."
Her voice remained calm.
"We are not."
Adrian's fingers tightened briefly behind his back.
Seraphina took another step forward.
"You are here because your political connections are necessary to our preparations. Your experience in negotiations has been valuable, and I expect you to continue fulfilling the responsibilities entrusted to you."
Her eyes narrowed.
"But your involvement in my private affairs ends here."
The marquis went still.
"Your Grace?"
"You will not interfere in my relationship with Aurelian again."
For several seconds, Adrian merely looked at her before releasing a soft laugh.
It held little amusement.
"Interfere? I confess, I had not realized that speaking with your fiancé constituted interference."
"It does when you deliberately exploit his concerns about me."
"Exploit?"
The word emerged more sharply than anything he had said before.
Adrian caught himself almost immediately.
"My apologies. I simply find the accusation rather extraordinary."
Seraphina did not respond.
He studied her face, searching for something that might soften her expression. Finding nothing, he exhaled.
"Have you considered that perhaps Lord Bellafonte has simply begun to recognize the difference between your worlds?"
The question was delivered gently.
Its intention was not.
Seraphina's eyes hardened and Adrian hesitated, then he continued.
"He is a provincial baron accustomed to a comparatively peaceful life. You are the commander of the royal knights and the duchess of a territory preparing for war. There are responsibilities here that he cannot possibly understand."
"That does not make him incapable of learning."
"I'm aware."
"Then do not mistake unfamiliarity for inadequacy."
The marquis's jaw tightened.
For the first time, he appeared to struggle with his response.
"Your Grace, you cannot deny that your circumstances are considerably different."
"I have never denied it. What I do not understand is why you seem so determined to reinforce his belief that those differences make him unworthy of standing beside me."
Adrian looked away.
His composure had not entirely disappeared, but the careful politeness was beginning to show its strain.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then he gave a small, humorless smile.
"Remarkable."
Seraphina regarded him cautiously.
"What is?"
"How readily you defend him."
Her brows drew together.
"He is my fiancé."
"Yes."
Adrian looked back at her.
"I am quite aware."
There was something peculiar about the way he said it, an irritation too personal to belong to an ordinary disagreement.
He glanced toward the window.
"I suppose I simply find it fascinating."
"What?"
"How effortlessly some people are welcomed into places others spend years attempting to reach."
Seraphina went still.
Adrian continued before she could answer.
"Lord Bellafonte arrived at the capital knowing almost nothing about the society he had entered. He made mistakes, misunderstood perfectly ordinary customs, and seemed entirely unaware of the attention he attracted."
His lips curved faintly.
"And somehow, none of it mattered."
"Adrian."
"He did not need to understand you. He did not need to impress you, or prove himself useful, or spend years earning the privilege of your attention."
His voice had grown quieter, though the bitterness beneath it was unmistakable.
"He simply appeared, smiled at you, and you allowed him closer than anyone else."
Seraphina watched him carefully.
Beneath the concern, the reasonable arguments, and the carefully maintained friendship lay something she had suspected for some time.
Resentment.
Not merely toward Aurelian's presence in Vaelmont, but toward Aurelian himself.
"You are mistaken about him," she said.
Adrian's smile faltered.
"Am I? Then perhaps you might explain what makes him so extraordinary."
Seraphina's expression remained cold.
"I have no intention of justifying my feelings for my fiancé to you."
Adrian stared at her.
Something unpleasant passed through his eyes.
"I see."
"Do you?"
He gave a quiet laugh.
"Apparently not."
Seraphina turned toward the door.
"This conversation is finished."
"Your Grace."
She stopped.
Adrian took a step toward her.
"I did not intend to offend you."
"You have made your position clear."
"Then please allow me to clarify."
"There is nothing left to do so."
"Seraphina."
The sound of her given name brought her to an immediate halt.
Slowly, she turned.
Adrian stood a few paces away, his earlier composure almost entirely restored.
Almost.
"Do not address me so familiarly," she said.
His expression changed.
For a moment, something resembling genuine hurt appeared upon his face.
"We have known one another for years."
"That does not grant you permission."
"Must everything between us be treated as though we are strangers?"
Seraphina stared at him.
"We are not strangers, but neither are we what you appear to imagine."
Adrian's expression hardened.
He stepped closer.
"All I have ever attempted to do is protect your interests."
"You have done what benefits you."
"That is hardly fair."
"Whether you consider it fair is irrelevant."
He looked at her for a long moment.
Then, perhaps realizing that she truly intended to leave, he reached toward her.
"Seraphina, listen—"
His fingers barely brushed the fabric of her sleeve when a hand seized his wrist.
Adrian was pulled backward so abruptly that he stumbled.
"What—?"
"Careful, my lord."
Maliha Ghazi stood between them.
The imposing vice commander had appeared through the doorway with remarkably little warning, her broad shoulders filling much of the entrance. Her coarse black hair had been pulled back, and the dark red of her tailored coat stood out against the muted furnishings.
Her expression was anything but pleasant.
She had evidently been passing through the adjoining corridor when Adrian's raised voice drew her attention. Whatever she had heard, the sight of him reaching for Seraphina had been more than enough to prompt her intervention.
She held his wrist in a firm grip, twisting it just enough to make the marquis visibly uncomfortable.
"I believe Her Grace was finished speaking."
Adrian stared at her in disbelief.
"Lady Ghazi!"
"Yes, that's me."
"Release me."
"Sure. Once you remember how to keep your hands to yourself."
"Maliha."
Seraphina's voice was quiet.
The vice commander glanced toward her.
"He was reaching for you."
"I noticed."
"Rather boldly."
"Maliha."
A brief pause.
Then Maliha released him.
Adrian immediately withdrew his hand, straightening his coat with an expression of barely concealed indignation.
"That was entirely unnecessary."
"Was it?" Maliha asked.
"I meant no harm."
"Then you should have no difficulty refraining from doing it again."
The marquis looked toward Seraphina.
"Your Grace, surely you do not condone such behavior."
Seraphina regarded him coldly.
"Do not touch me without permission, and there will be no reason for her to intervene."
Adrian fell silent.
Maliha folded her arms, appearing thoroughly satisfied.
For several moments, the only sound was the distant movement of soldiers in the courtyard below.
Then Adrian drew a slow breath.
"I see that nothing I say will be received favorably today."
"Then perhaps you should stop speaking," Maliha suggested.
Seraphina gave her a brief look.
The vice commander raised both hands in exaggerated surrender, though she made no attempt to leave.
Adrian's expression shifted again, something colder settling beneath his features.
"Very well."
He straightened.
"If Your Grace wishes to believe that I have acted against her interests, I cannot prevent it. But I would caution you against allowing personal feelings to interfere with your judgment."
Seraphina regarded him without expression.
Adrian continued.
"Particularly when those feelings concern matters that ought to remain in the past."
Maliha's posture changed.
It was a small movement, but Seraphina noticed immediately.
So did Adrian.
The marquis appeared to recognize that he had ventured into dangerous territory.
Unfortunately, he did not stop.
"I understand that certain experiences have made you wary of my family," he said carefully. "But surely you cannot intend to hold the mistakes of one person against everyone who shares his name."
The silence that followed was absolute.
Seraphina stared at him.
For the first time throughout their conversation, she felt something other than irritation.
It was an old, familiar bitterness, one she had believed was buried deeply enough that even Adrian would have the sense to leave it undisturbed.
Maliha's expression had turned murderous.
"Marquis," she said quietly.
Adrian ignored her.
"Your Grace, all I mean is that whatever happened between you and my brother—"
"Enough."
The word was not spoken loudly.
It did not need to be.
Adrian stopped.
Seraphina looked at him for a long moment.
He had always been intelligent, observant, and patient enough to wait for opportunities that others might never recognize. She had once believed those qualities made him a valuable ally.
Now, looking at the resentment beneath his carefully composed expression, she wondered how much of his apparent loyalty had ever been genuine.
"You presume a great deal, Adrian."
His face tightened.
"I merely wished—"
"I know what you wished."
She stepped closer.
"And I will make something very clear to you."
The marquis held her gaze.
Seraphina's voice remained perfectly steady.
"I would never marry a Leister again."
Adrian went silent.
The color seemed to drain from his expression.
Even Maliha, who had been watching him with open hostility, said nothing.
For a moment, the room felt unbearably still.
Seraphina did not look away.
She had spoken without raising her voice, yet the words carried the weight of something that had remained unspoken for years.
Once, Seraphina Vaelmont had been married to a member of House Leister.
Adrian's elder brother.
It was a subject rarely discussed within the walls of Vaelmont, and those who remembered the circumstances had learned that the duchess possessed very little patience for questions about her former marriage.
Maliha remembered.
She remembered what Seraphina had returned to find after her absence, and the damage that had nearly destroyed everything generations of Vaelmonts had struggled to preserve.
She remembered the woman who had stood among the consequences of her husband's actions and been forced to shoulder responsibilities that should never have fallen upon her alone.
And she remembered Adrian.
How could she not?
The vice commander looked at him with renewed disgust.
Adrian, meanwhile, appeared incapable of finding the proper words.
His lips parted slightly.
"Your Grace..."
Seraphina's expression did not soften.
"Whatever obligation once existed between my family and yours ended long ago."
"I never asked you to regard me as my brother."
"No," she replied. "You merely seem unable to accept that I have no intention of repeating the past."
He flinched.
It was the smallest of movements.
Seraphina noticed it nonetheless.
She had no desire to prolong the conversation, not when so much of it should have remained buried.
"Your services are still required here," she continued. "The council has made its arrangements, and I have no intention of allowing personal disagreements to interfere with the preparations for war."
Adrian lowered his gaze.
"Of course."
"You will continue fulfilling your assigned responsibilities. Your political connections remain useful, and I expect you to conduct yourself accordingly."
"I understand."
"But our association will remain strictly professional."
He looked up.
Seraphina met his eyes.
"You will not involve yourself in my engagement again. You will not approach Aurelian with another carefully disguised warning concerning his place beside me, and you will not presume that our families' history grants you any familiarity with me."
Adrian remained motionless.
"Have I made myself understood?"
A long silence followed.
Then he bowed.
"Perfectly, Your Grace."
His voice had recovered much of its customary elegance.
His expression had not.
Seraphina watched him straighten.
"Then you may go."
Adrian glanced briefly toward Maliha.
The vice commander offered him a smile.
It was not a friendly one.
"I believe the door is behind you, my lord."
He gave her no answer.
Instead, he bowed once more to Seraphina, turned, and left the room.
The door closed quietly behind him.
For several moments, neither woman spoke.
Then Maliha exhaled.
"Well."
Seraphina closed her eyes.
"Don't."
"I haven't said anything."
"You are about to."
"I was merely going to observe that I have never particularly liked that man."
"You have made that opinion quite clear."
"And yet you continue inviting him into military meetings."
"He is useful."
"So is a knife. That doesn't mean I leave one beneath my pillow."
Despite herself, Seraphina nearly smiled.
Nearly.
Maliha noticed the attempt and allowed her expression to soften.
"Are you all right?"
Seraphina opened her eyes.
"Yes."
The vice commander regarded her doubtfully.
"That was a rather unpleasant subject for him to bring up."
"It was."
"Especially considering—"
"Maliha."
The warning was gentle this time.
Maliha fell silent.
For a moment, she appeared to consider pressing the matter. Then she nodded.
"Very well."
Seraphina turned toward the window.
Beyond the glass, soldiers were moving across the western courtyard, their dark uniforms standing out against the snow. Orders were delivered, horses were saddled, and wagons carrying supplies passed through the outer gates.
Everything continued as though nothing had happened.
The north had little time for private grievances.
Not now.
Maliha joined her by the window.
"Do you believe he had something to do with Sahar's departure?"
Seraphina was silent for a moment.
"Yes."
"Did he admit it?"
"Not directly."
"Of course he didn't."
Maliha leaned against the window frame.
"That man could confess to murder and somehow make it sound like he was doing the victim a favor."
Seraphina glanced at her.
"Maliha."
"What? I'm being generous."
A faint sigh escaped Seraphina.
The vice commander folded her arms.
"Do you intend to tell him?"
Seraphina looked back toward the courtyard.
"I don't know."
It was an unpleasant admission.
Aurelian trusted Adrian.
That trust had not developed overnight. Their friendship had begun long before the marquis arrived in Vaelmont, and Seraphina knew that Aurelian regarded him as someone who had treated him kindly when he was still struggling to find his footing in the capital.
She could hardly approach her fiancé and announce that his friend had deliberately encouraged his worst insecurities without offering something more substantial than her suspicions.
Nor did she wish to make Aurelian feel as though his decision had been taken from him.
Whatever influence Adrian had exerted, Aurelian had still chosen to leave, and Seraphina had accepted that choice.
"I won't ask him to stay simply because I dislike the circumstances surrounding his departure," she said at last.
Maliha studied her.
"Then what are you going to do?"
Seraphina did not answer immediately.
She thought of Aurelian's expression when he had told her he intended to return to Bellafonte, how carefully he had explained himself and how determined he had seemed to make the decision sound reasonable.
She had recognized his unhappiness.
What she had failed to recognize was the shame beneath it.
He had not merely been afraid of war. He had been afraid that loving her would make him an obstacle to everything she was responsible for protecting.
And when he had told her that he wished to leave, she had accepted his explanation because it was practical.
Because she could not deny that he would be safer in Bellafonte. Some part of her had believed that letting him go was the most responsible choice she could make.
Seraphina lowered her gaze.
There had been a time, not very long ago, when Aurelian had looked at Vaelmont and begun to imagine a future there.
He had spoken of the north with such earnest curiosity, asking questions about its people, its winters, and the difficulties they faced. He had made plans without being asked, offered assistance without seeking recognition, and approached problems with the same quiet persistence that had first drawn her attention to him.
She had watched him gradually become comfortable within her home.
Then war had arrived.
Her attention had turned toward the border, and the hours she could give him had dwindled. There had been occasions when she had spoken too sharply or dismissed a concern because another matter demanded her immediate attention.
She had always intended to make it up to him later.
Yet later had become another day, and another, until there was hardly any time remaining.
Adrian had recognized the distance forming between them.
He had merely made certain Aurelian noticed it as well.
"Seraphina?"
Maliha's voice drew her from her thoughts.
The vice commander was watching her with an expression far gentler than usual.
"You know he doesn't want to leave."
Seraphina's throat tightened.
"Yes."
"Then perhaps you ought to tell him that you don't want him to go."
A bitter smile touched Seraphina's lips.
"I have already agreed to his departure."
"That doesn't mean you have to pretend you're pleased about it."
Seraphina looked away.
Maliha allowed the silence to settle before speaking again.
"You're both remarkably stubborn for two people who are supposed to be getting married."
That earned her a tired look.
"I am not stubborn."
"Of course not, Your Grace."
"Maliha."
"I wouldn't dream of suggesting otherwise."
Despite everything, Seraphina let out a quiet breath that was almost a laugh.
The vice commander smiled faintly before her expression grew serious.
"Whatever that marquis told him, Sahar deserves to know that his presence here has never been something you resented."
Seraphina stared at her.
The words struck uncomfortably close to something she had been avoiding.
She had never considered Aurelian a burden.
She worried about his safety, about the things he might witness, and about the dangers that came with being attached to someone in her position. But those concerns were not the same as wishing him gone.
She had wanted him beside her.
Not because he possessed military experience or political influence, but because he was Aurelian.
Because his presence brought a warmth into rooms that had always seemed cold. Because he remembered to ask whether she had eaten, whether she was sleeping, and whether the responsibilities she carried were becoming too much.
Because he had looked upon Vaelmont, with all its hardships and dangers, and instinctively begun wondering what he might do to help its people.
She had known all of that.
What she had failed to do was tell him.
Seraphina turned away from the window.
"Where is he now?"
Maliha blinked.
"Sahar?"
"Yes."
"Still in the village, I imagine. Larissa mentioned something about a farewell gathering. Alan was complaining that the villagers had prepared enough food to feed half the garrison."
Seraphina glanced toward the fading afternoon light.
There was still time before evening.
Not enough to undo the conversations that had already taken place or make the approaching war any less dangerous, but enough, perhaps, to prevent one misunderstanding from following Aurelian all the way back to Bellafonte.
She moved toward the door.
Maliha straightened.
"Your Grace?"
Seraphina paused with her hand upon the handle.
For a moment, she considered everything that awaited her: the reports she had yet to review, the military preparations that would continue long into the evening, and the responsibilities that would not disappear simply because she wished, for once, to set them aside.
Then she thought of Aurelian.
He would return from the village carrying gifts he had probably tried to refuse, smiling at the kindness of people who had grown to love him.
He would finish preparing for his journey, thank everyone who had helped him, and depart believing that leaving was the final useful thing he could do for her.
The thought made something in Seraphina's chest ache.
She could not promise him that Vaelmont was safe or ask him to disregard the dangers merely because she wanted him near. Nor would she make him feel guilty for choosing Bellafonte.
But she could tell him the truth.
She should have done so much sooner.
"I am going to find my fiancé."
Maliha smiled.
"Good."
Seraphina opened the door.
Then she stopped.
For one brief moment, she remained motionless in the threshold, remembering the quiet resignation in Aurelian's eyes when he had asked to return home.
He had come north hoping to build a life with her.
Somewhere along the way, he had begun to believe that he did not belong in it.
Adrian had encouraged that belief, but Seraphina had allowed it to take root. Now the man she loved was preparing to leave because he believed his absence would make her life easier.
That, more than anything Adrian had said, was what she could not forgive herself for.
She had spent so long trying to protect Aurelian from the dangers of her world that she had failed to notice how lonely she had allowed him to become within it.
And if she let him depart without correcting that mistake, he would carry something far more painful than the sorrow of leaving her behind.
He would carry the belief that loving her meant making himself smaller.
Seraphina tightened her hand around the door handle.
Never again.
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