Next time she wouldn't be helpless.
The thought blazed through Seraphina's mind as Alaric moved toward the balcony, each step bringing him closer to discovering everything. Her heart hammered so loud she was sure the entire estate could hear it.
This was it. The end of everything they'd just planned. The end of her alliance with Caelan. Probably the end of Caelan himself.
Alaric's hand reached for the balcony door handle.
"MY LORD! MY LORD!"
The shouts from outside shattered the tension like glass. Heavy footsteps pounded through the corridors, getting closer, more urgent.
Alaric froze, his hand hovering inches from the door. "What the fuck, "
"MY LORD! SECURITY BREACH! WE NEED YOU NOW!"
Thank God. The vise around her lungs loosened, leaving her lightheaded. Whatever this was, whoever was shouting, they'd just saved Caelan's life.
And hers.
Alaric spun toward the bedroom door, his face twisting with fury. "Are you fucking kidding me? Tonight?"
The pounding reached their door. "Lord Vessant! There's been an intrusion! We found evidence of, "
"WHAT?" Alaric yanked the door open so hard it slammed against the wall.
A guard stood there, slightly out of breath, armor glinting in the candlelight. One of Alaric's shadows, the ones who moved silently through the estate, watching, reporting, eliminating problems.
"Sir, we found signs of forced entry near the east wing. Footprints, disturbed ground. Someone was on the estate tonight."
Footprints. An icy finger traced its way down her spine. Had Caelan left tracks?
"Forced entry?" Alaric's voice went dangerously quiet. The same tone he used before ordering executions. "Tonight. Of all fucking nights."
"Yes sir. We think... we think the office fire might not have been an accident."
The silence that followed was deadly. Seraphina could practically see the wheels turning in Alaric's head, connecting dots that were getting too close to the truth.
"You're telling me," Alaric said slowly, "that someone broke into my estate. Set fire to my office. On the same night I was..." His gaze flicked back to Seraphina, then to the guard. "Who is this fucker that decides to ruin my night?"
Stay calm. She wrapped the sheet tighter around herself, playing the frightened wife. Let him think you're terrified of intruders, not of him.
"Alaric?" she said, voice small and shaky. "Someone broke in? Are we safe?"
His expression softened slightly when he looked at her. The protective husband, defending his precious property.
"You're safe," he said. "I'll make sure of it."
But she could see the calculation in his eyes. The suspicion. The growing anger at having his plans interrupted twice in one night.
"Sir," the guard continued, "we need to search the grounds. Check the perimeter. This could be enemy agents, House Drakemoor, maybe, trying to retaliate for the mining contract."
House Drakemoor. Perfect. Let him blame them instead of looking for the real culprit.
"Those bastards," Alaric snarled. "They dare to come into my home? Threaten what's mine?"
He moved back toward the balcony, and Seraphina's heart stopped again. No. Don't look. Don't check.
But instead of opening the door, he just glanced at it, then back at the guard. "Double the patrols around this wing. I want every inch of this estate searched. If there's so much as a blade of grass out of place, I want to know about it."
"Yes sir."
"And seal off my wife's chambers. No one gets close to this room without my permission."
Seal off her chambers. Right. Keep his prize locked away while he hunted for threats.
Alaric turned back to her, frustration and anger warring in his expression. She could see him weighing his options, stay and finish what he'd started, or deal with the security threat.
Please choose the threat. Please let your paranoia win.
"I'm not in the mood anymore," he said finally, disgust clear in his voice. "Not with intruders skulking around my estate."
Thank God. She let relief show on her face, mixed with worry that would look natural. "I understand. You need to protect us."
"I do." He moved toward the bed, toward her, and she tensed again. But instead of climbing back on top of her, he leaned down and kissed her.
Deep. Possessive. A claiming that left no doubt about who she belonged to.
When he pulled back, his eyes were dark with promise. "We'll continue some other day. And that day will truly be perfect. No interruptions. No distractions. Just you and me."
His eyes lingered on her face a moment too long, and she braced for violence. Did he know? Had he seen through her performance?
Perfect. Right. Her idea of perfect and his were very different things.
"I'll be waiting," she said, because that's what he wanted to hear.
"Good." He straightened, already shifting into hunter mode. "Lock the door behind me. Don't open it for anyone but me."
"I will."
He grabbed his shirt and coat, dressing quickly while issuing orders to the guard. "I want reports every hour. I want to know who was on my estate and why. And I want them found."
"Yes sir."
"If this is House Drakemoor making a move, they just declared war. And I always win my wars."
The door slammed behind them, leaving Seraphina alone in the sudden silence.
She waited. Counted to sixty. Then sixty again.
Only then did she allow herself to collapse back onto the bed, shaking with relief and delayed terror.
Caelan. Was he still out there? Had he gotten away? Or was he hiding somewhere on the estate while Alaric's guards combed every inch of the grounds?
If Caelan got caught, she'd never forgive herself.
Please be safe. Please be smart. Please don't try to be a hero.
She lay there in the candlelight, surrounded by rose petals that smelled like mockery, thinking about how close they'd come to disaster. How easily their entire plan could have crumbled.
But it didn't.
They'd survived. Barely, but they'd survived. And tomorrow...
Tomorrow would bring white roses. And hopefully, answers.
Sleep, when it came, was thin and haunted by the scent of roses and imagined shouts.
Morning came too slowly and too fast.
Seraphina had barely slept, jumping at every sound in the corridors, wondering if the next footsteps would be Alaric returning to finish what he'd started. But he'd stayed away, probably spending the night coordinating searches and interrogating servants.
Elena arrived with breakfast and gossip, eyes bright with the kind of excitement servants got when drama touched the estate.
"Such a commotion last night, my lady," she said, setting down the tray. "Guards everywhere, searching high and low. They say someone tried to break into the lord's office."
Tried. Right. If only she knew how successful the "break-in" had actually been.
"How frightening," Seraphina said, playing her part. "Did they catch anyone?"
"No, my lady. But Lord Vessant is furious. He's got every guard on the estate looking for clues." Elena leaned closer, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "They say it was Drakemoor agents, but old Marta thinks it was ghosts. Says the dead don't rest easy when there's injustice in the house."
Good. Let him chase shadows while the real threat planned his downfall.
Elena bustled around the room, tidying and chattering, until a soft knock interrupted her.
"Come in," Seraphina called.
A young man entered, arms full of white roses. Beautiful, perfect white roses in elegant arrangements.
From Alaric. As promised. Her stomach turned at the reminder of why he was sending them.
"Delivery for Lady Vessant," the man said. "From Lord Vessant, with his compliments."
"How lovely," she managed. "Just... just set them anywhere."
But as the delivery man arranged the bouquets around her room, she noticed something odd. Most of the arrangements were clearly from the estate's formal gardens, perfectly manicured, uniform roses in crystal vases.
But one arrangement was different.
Wilder. The roses were slightly less perfect, arranged with small white flowers she didn't recognize. The kind of arrangement a country florist might make, not the estate's formal gardeners.
And there was something tucked beneath the stems. A small piece of paper, so cunningly hidden she almost missed it.
"Elena," she said carefully, "could you have the kitchen prepare my usual tea? I think I'd like to have it in the gardens this morning."
"Of course, my lady."
When Elena left, Seraphina moved quickly to the wild arrangement. Her fingers found the hidden paper, pulling it free.
J watching from east garden. Signal works. Are you safe? - C
Her heart raced. Jorin. The shadow Caelan had promised. He was here, watching, ready to help.
And Caelan was asking if she was safe.
She looked around the room, at all the white roses that were supposed to celebrate Alaric's victory over her body. At the note that proved she wasn't as alone as Alaric thought.
I'm safe, she thought. For now.
But as she moved toward her writing desk to compose a reply, Elena's voice drifted up from the corridor below.
"Oh, you must be the new gardener! Lord Vessant mentioned he'd hired additional staff for security..."
New gardener?
Down in the east garden, a man tended the flower beds. Ordinary looking, unremarkable, exactly the kind of person who'd blend into the estate's daily routine.
But as she watched, he glanced up at her window. Just for a moment. Just long enough for her to see the slight nod.
Jorin.
And then she saw something else. Something that made her blood freeze.
Another figure moving through the gardens. Tall, familiar, walking with purpose toward the new gardener.
Alaric.
He'd spotted the new face. And he was going to investigate.
No. Not now. Not when they'd just established contact.
Pressed against the window, she watched in horror as Alaric approached the man who was supposed to be her lifeline.
Was he scared? Did he know Alaric was closing in? From this distance, Jorin looked calm, focused on his work. But his hands...were they shaking slightly?
Run, she thought desperately. Run before he reaches you.
But Jorin kept working, apparently oblivious to the danger walking straight toward him.
Alaric was twenty feet away. Fifteen. Ten.
And then he was standing right behind Caelan's man, his hand moving to the sword at his hip.