“You promised me nothing would happen… that I had nothing to worry about…”
Tears welled up again, unstoppable this time. Liliette felt a pang of pity mixed with something sharper—an unspoken resentment toward Vlad, who stood helplessly frozen before her.
It wasn’t just worry. It was something heavier, something too raw for mere concern yet too soft to be called anger. The emotions churned inside her, impossible to untangle, like colors mixed in water.
While the duel unfolded in Cadis, she had been in her study, poring over a map spread across her desk. Her fingers had traced the route from the imperial capital to Attaca over and over until Ivan burst into the room.
“My lady,” he had said urgently. “Her Imperial Highness requests your presence. His Lordship has challenged the Prince to a duel, and she urges you to come quickly to prevent any casualties.”
“A duel?” Liliette’s breath hitched. “Casualties?”
