Liora moved forward then, drawn by instinct rather than purpose. She reached for the velvet-bound ledger beside him, her fingers brushing his by accident. He didn't pull away.
A moment. Brief. Quiet. Enough.
His voice was lower now. "They think you're a fool. A girl flung from disgrace into another's ruin."
Her eyes met his. "Do you?"
"No," he said, after a beat. "But let them think so."
The fire crackled between them. She didn't smile. Neither did he.
And yet something shifted...like the first thaw in a bitter season.
In another wing of the estate, Rowan paced through the hallway, a sealed letter in hand. The seal bore the mark of the Lord of Berrenwald...a vassal land near the southern border.
He handed it off to Samuel with a frown. "They're offering grain in exchange for one thing: a marriage pact. They want to send someone to court."
Samuel whistled. "Does Alden know?"
