EVELINA
Morning broke soft across the capital. The streets stirred early, vendors setting out baskets of fruit and bread. Evelina's carriage stopped before The Velvet Spoon, the tea shop favored by the noble set.
She stepped down with Margaret and Victoria at her side. Margaret's smile was light, her hand brushing her skirts as she looked at the shop front. Victoria walked with sharper poise, her eyes already scanning who might be inside.
The three entered together. The Velvet Spoon smelled of sugared almonds and rose tea. Its walls were pale cream, its curtains trimmed with blue. Sunlight struck polished cups on crowded tables.
They found a place by the window. Margaret settled with easy grace. Victoria ordered tea with brisk precision. Evelina's thoughts were elsewhere, her gaze drifting across the room.
Her eyes caught a figure at once.
Lucian sat in the far corner with Baron Whitcombe. Lucian's black coat set him apart, his bearing calm yet commanding. Leopold leaned closer to him, speaking with familiar ease.
Margaret saw them too. A faint blush rose on her cheeks. She lowered her voice. "Leopold has been here longer than I thought. He keeps his word about early mornings."
Victoria smirked. "It is easy for him, when you are the reward."
Margaret gave a quiet laugh, one hand lifting to her cheek. Evelina glanced at her, softened by the sight. Their engagement had given Margaret a glow Evelina had rarely seen in her before.
At that moment, Leopold noticed them. He raised his hand in greeting, his smile directed squarely at Margaret. Lucian's gaze followed, resting on Evelina. His nod was slow, respectful.
Evelina inclined her head in return. Her hand lingered on her teacup, fingers tightening slightly on the porcelain.
Victoria leaned close. "He does not look away from you, Evee."
"Many look," Evelina said evenly. She lowered her gaze to her tea.
A few moments later, Leopold rose and approached with Lucian. Margaret straightened, her lips curved in a shy smile. Evelina kept her composure, though her chest tightened.
"Lady Everleigh," Leopold greeted warmly, his eyes already stealing back to Margaret. "A surprise, though a pleasant one. The Velvet Spoon grows lively."
Evelina gave a polite nod. "Baron. Young Duke Ravenscroft."
Lucian inclined his head, his tone quiet but clear. "Lady Everleigh."
Margaret's blush deepened as Leopold brushed her hand in greeting. "You are radiant this morning," he said low enough for her alone. Victoria raised a brow but said nothing.
The group sat together for a moment. Victoria, never one to leave silence, began first. "The city still whispers about the lake. I think every tea shop has made it their topic."
Leopold chuckled. "Whispers are stubborn. Once they begin, they take root. But they are harmless, in the end."
Evelina's eyes met his, steady. "Harmless to some. Less so to those named in them."
Lucian's voice followed, calm and even. "Rumors are smoke. They vanish if you refuse to fan them. No answer leaves them weaker."
The words caught her. She looked at him. He met her eyes directly, no smile, no boast. Only quiet conviction.
For a breath, the tea shop faded. Evelina's heart shifted against her will. She broke her gaze first, turning back to her cup.
Margaret saved the moment, bright with laughter. "Leopold was speaking of the lake only this morning. He says the water was too cold. But I told him bravery is not only for the battlefield."
Leopold leaned closer, his hand brushing hers under the table. "And I told her bravery is for her, not me. I would rather watch her smile on shore than freeze in the water."
Victoria rolled her eyes. "The two of you will sour the tea."
Margaret laughed, but her glance at Leopold carried warmth. He squeezed her hand lightly before turning back to Lucian.
Lucian's attention had returned to Evelina. He spoke simply. "The lake was quiet. It offered peace, even for a brief moment."
Her voice was soft when she answered. "Peace is rare in the capital. Worth noticing when it comes."
Their words were plain, yet layered. Neither lingered on them, yet both felt the weight.
Leopold rose after a time. "We will not keep you. Lady Everleigh, Lady Victoria and My dear, Margaret." His bow was formal, his hand brushing Margaret's fingers once more. Lucian bowed too, his eyes resting a moment longer on Evelina before he followed.
The room settled again. Margaret watched him go, her smile still faints from Leopold's touch. "He has a steadiness about him, the young duke. Not like the others."
Victoria shrugged. "Steadiness is dull. I prefer wit."
Evelina said nothing. Her thoughts stirred, her heart unsettled. Lucian Ravenscroft had spoken only a few words. Yet they clung to her more than they should.
She lifted her cup again, hiding her face behind the porcelain.
***
CROWN PRINCE EDWARD
The palace chamber was small but sealed tight. No windows, only a map-lined wall and a heavy table at the center. Prince Edward sat at its head, his face set in grim focus.
Around him were Count Marlowe, Lord Trenwyth, and two others sworn to his faction.
Edward's voice cut through first. "Montclair grows too bold. His circle thickens. If we do not act, he will stand where I should."
Marlowe's tone was measured. "He wins loyalty not through threat, but through respect. That is harder to break."
Trenwyth tapped the table. "Merchants like him. His routes are clean, his prices fair. They whisper he is the safer ally."
Edward's jaw set hard. "Then we make him appear weak. Spread doubt. Make his circle question his strength. Question his ambition."
One of the lords shifted. "If whispers fail, we risk exposure."
Edward's eyes narrowed. "Then you whisper carefully. Suggest he seeks more than he claims. Suggest he eyes what is not his. Fear is sharper than proof."
Marlowe inclined his head. "Trade routes are vulnerable. If we choke one, merchants will worry. Say Montclair cannot keep them safe. Say his reach is wide but his grasp weak."
Edward pressed his palm flat to the table. "Do it. Speak to Harrow, to Denfield. They are waiting for excuse to doubt him. Give it to them. Quietly. No letters. No trace."
Trenwyth noted it down. "And Lady Everleigh? She draws eyes. If tied to Montclair or Ravenscroft, she shifts the game."
Edward's face hardened. "Watch her, but do not touch her. She is not our mark. Montclair is. Break him first."
The room went silent. The men understood. The path was set.
Edward leaned back, his eyes cold. "We move now. If Montclair falters, the capital bends. When it bends, it bends to me."
One by one, they left the chamber. The door closed heavy behind them.
Edward remained, staring at the map of the capital. His voice was low, meant for himself alone.
"Montclair will not see it coming."