When the sun dipped below the horizon, she sighed and stood. "I should go. Lady Celeste will have my head."
Lucien inclined his head. "Thank you for waiting."
She gave a small, genuine smile. "Thank you for the cake."
And with that, she left — the vial still untouched.
The next morning, light spilled gently through the high windows of D'Amore Manor, a soft, misty glow clinging to the air. Isadora stood by her window, gazing out at the town beginning to stir. The streets were slick with dawn's dew, and the sound of carriages and vendors slowly woke Veridion from its uneasy slumber.
She hadn't slept much after returning from D'Aragon Hall. The laughter, the warmth of Lucien's presence, and the simple gift of that ridiculous cake had left her oddly content, as though for a moment, the weight of this unfamiliar world wasn't quite so heavy.
But all of that would have to wait.
A sharp knock sounded at her door.
"My lady," Nora's voice came through, "Her Ladyship says it's time."
