Seraphina entered the parlor to find Marcus standing near the fireplace, studying a portrait of Alaric's grandfather with apparent fascination. But when he turned, his smile was warm, genuine, and undeniably pleased to see her.
"Your Grace," he said, offering a perfect bow. "Thank you for receiving me. I know this is... unconventional."
"Lord Branthorne." She closed the doors behind her as instructed, very aware of the soft click of the latch. "Elena mentioned something about charitable collaboration?"
His smile widened. "Among other things."
Other things. There was that tone again, the one that suggested layers she wasn't catching.
"Please, sit," she said, gesturing to the chairs arranged near the window. "And what made you think showing up unannounced wouldn't be a mistake?"
"Good news," he said, settling into the chair across from hers. "Extraordinary news, actually. The kind that couldn't wait for formal appointments."
She raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"
"The Skyglass expedition exceeded every projection." Marcus leaned forward, eyes bright with excitement. "Seraphina, the mineral quality is unprecedented. The volume is staggering. Conservative estimates put the total value at over two million gold pieces."
Two million. Enough to buy a kingdom. Or burn one down. She kept her expression politely interested while her mind reeled. That was... that was more money than most noble houses saw in a lifetime.
"How wonderful for your family," she said carefully.
"For our partnership," he corrected. "Phinia Ashara now controls the most profitable mining operation in the kingdom. Possibly in the entire continent."
Phinia Ashara. He was speaking about her merchant identity like she wasn't sitting right in front of him.
"I'm not sure I understand the relevance to my charitable work," she said.
Marcus's smile turned knowing. "Don't we? Because I think you understand perfectly."
Dangerous ground. But he was right, she did understand. Phinia Ashara had just become one of the wealthiest people in the kingdom. Wealthy enough to fund armies. Wealthy enough to buy influence. Wealthy enough to be completely independent.
Wealthy enough to divorce a duke and survive the consequences.
"You came here to tell me about mining profits?" she asked.
"I came here to warn you." His tone turned serious. "Phinia Ashara was anonymous when she was just another merchant with fifty thousand gold. But two million? That kind of money doesn't stay hidden. People are already asking questions."
Shit. She hadn't thought about that. Success brought visibility. Visibility brought scrutiny.
"What kind of questions?"
"Who is she? Where did she get her initial capital? How did she convince Duke Vorenthal to back an unknown merchant? Why is she so secretive?" Marcus counted off on his fingers. "Fortune hunters, ambitious nobles, curious competitors, they're all going to come looking for the mysterious woman behind the biggest mining success in recent history."
Double shit. Every question was dangerous. Every inquiry could lead back to her.
"And you think this affects my charitable work how?"
Marcus leaned back, studying her face. "Because I don't think Phinia Ashara's success has anything to do with charity. I think it has everything to do with freedom."
Too close. He was getting too close to the truth.
"I'm not sure what you mean."
"A married woman who arranges secret business meetings. Who creates an elaborate false identity. Who displays that level of urgency about financial independence." His eyes never left hers. "You're building a war chest. For when you destroy him."
The words hung in the air like an accusation. Or an offer of alliance.
"That's quite an assumption," she said carefully.
"Is it? Because from where I sit, it's the only explanation that makes sense." Marcus leaned forward again, voice dropping. "The question is: how long before he figures it out?"
Before Alaric figures it out. Before her husband realized his devoted wife had been building an empire behind his back. Before he connected Phinia Ashara to the Duchess of Vessant.
"Even if your theory were correct," she said slowly, "why would it matter to you?"
"Because I care what happens to you."
Direct. No business justification, no political explanation. Just simple, honest concern.
"Lord Branthorne, "
"Marcus," he corrected. "I think we're past formalities, don't you? Considering you've made me the third-richest man in the kingdom."
The way he said it... Like partnership was only the beginning of what he wanted.
"The mining venture is business," she said firmly.
"Is it? Because business partners don't usually risk elaborate deceptions for each other. They don't create false identities and arrange clandestine meetings." His voice softened. "They don't look at each other the way you and Duke Vorenthal look at each other."
Her cheeks warmed. "I don't know what you think you saw, "
"I saw a woman and a man who care about each other trying very hard to pretend they don't." Marcus's smile was gentle but knowing. "I also saw a duke who was ready to start a war when I showed too much interest in his business partner."
God. Had their feelings been that obvious?
"Or maybe you are not aware of yourselves," he added thoughtfully. "But that's good for me."
A flush crept in despite her resolve. "You're reading into things that aren't there."
She stood abruptly, moving to the window. This conversation was getting too personal. Too dangerous.
"Even if any of that were true," she said, "it wouldn't change anything. I'm married. My situation is... complicated."
"Complicated situations can be resolved." Marcus's voice was closer now. He'd followed her to the window. "Especially when one has the resources to resolve them properly."
Two million gold pieces worth of resources.
"Divorce isn't simple for people like us," she said.
"No. But it's possible. With the right resources and careful planning." He stepped closer. "Financial independence gives you options most wives don't have. The means to fight back if necessary."
Newfound independence. Phinia Ashara's fortune. The means to leave, to start over, to reclaim everything that had been stolen from her family.
"And what would you get out of such... protection?"
Marcus moved closer, close enough that she could see the gold flecks in his brown eyes. "The satisfaction of helping someone I care about. And perhaps... the opportunity to court her properly once she's free to be courted."
There it was. No pretense, no business justification. Just honest romantic interest from a man who'd made her rich and was offering to help her escape.
"Marcus, "
"I'm not asking for promises," he said softly. "I'm not demanding anything in return for my help. I'm simply... positioning myself as an option worth considering. When the time comes."
When the time comes. When she was divorced, free, able to choose her own future.
When she could stop performing and start living.
"The situation is more complicated than you realize," she said finally.
"I'm very good with complicated situations. I have extensive resources, useful connections, and a strong motivation to see you happy."
To see you happy. Not to advance his own interests, not to gain political advantage. To see her happy.
When was the last time someone had wanted that?
"I can't make any promises," she said.
"I'm not asking for any. Not yet." His smile was warm, patient. "But when you're ready to make changes in your life, I hope you'll remember that you have options. Good options."
Options. A foreign currency, and Marcus was the banker.
"This is a dangerous conversation," she said.
"Dangerous times require dangerous conversations." Marcus reached out, his fingers brushed hers, a spark where his mining gold couldn't reach. "But some risks are worth taking."
Nothing improper that could be misconstrued. But the intent was unmistakable.
"I should go," she said. "People will talk if you stay too long."
"Let them talk. I'm simply a business associate paying my respects to a patron of the arts." His smile turned playful. "Though I do hope we'll have opportunities to continue our... discussions about charitable endeavors."
Charitable endeavors. Right.
"Perhaps. When the situation allows."
"I'll be patient. But Seraphina..." He paused, using her given name for the first time. "Don't wait too long. Opportunities have a way of disappearing if we don't seize them."
Was he talking about freedom from her marriage? Or about his own romantic interest?
Maybe both.
"I'll keep that in mind," she said.
"Good." Marcus moved toward the door, then paused. "One more thing. Be careful who you trust with Phinia Ashara's success. That kind of wealth makes people do desperate things."
"I'll be careful."
"Promise me."
There was something in his voice... Real concern, genuine worry for her safety.
"I promise."
"Good." He smiled again, that warm, genuine expression that made her chest tighten in ways she didn't want to examine. "Until next time, Your Grace."
He was reaching for the door handle when the doors exploded inward.
Alaric's fury made the torches gutter, his face flushed with anger and something that looked dangerously like suspicion.