The court of Eldrin was many things—lavish, gilded, suffocating—but it was never silent. Not even at dawn.
Adrian Blackwood stood on the palace's eastern balcony, watching the pale light spill across the capital's spires. It was his third day back, and the air felt different here. Thin. Heavy with expectation. At his side, the summons from the royal family still sat unopened. He knew what it would say—an invitation in form, a command in truth. It was only a matter of time before the Crown demanded his full allegiance once again.
He exhaled sharply, gripping the balcony rail. Since arriving, he'd been buried in political posturing, veiled conversations, and strategic dances of influence. Not once had he been able to reach out to Lila, not even by letter. The palace was filled with eyes. Messages could be intercepted. Words twisted.
But it wasn't just the silence from the estate that unsettled him. It was the rumors.
Whispers had begun spreading through the noble circles—too faint to be challenged, too carefully veiled to be traced. Rumors about mismanagement. About the Hart estate falling apart. About her. And that was what made his blood turn cold.
Lila.
That evening, Adrian was called to an informal gathering hosted by the Crown Prince himself. The great hall glittered with golden candlelight, musicians playing something soft and unobtrusive in the background. Noblemen and women flocked to the Prince like bees to a bloom, laughing at his every word and offering thinly veiled favors. Adrian remained at the edge, wine untouched, eyes alert. He wasn't here for pleasantries. He was here for information.
"Lord Blackwood," came a familiar voice.
Adrian turned as Princess Seraphine approached, her silver gown trailing like mist. Regal, poised, and sharp as a drawn blade behind those pale blue eyes. She was beautiful, of course—but Adrian had long since stopped being distracted by beauty.
She smiled. "You've been quiet since your return."
"I prefer listening over posturing," he replied coolly.
She let out a soft laugh. "Still so serious. No wonder you vanished to the provinces. I hear you were quite invested in the Hart estate."
The bait was obvious. Adrian didn't bite.
"I was helping them recover from debt," he said evenly. "Their estate needed reorganization."
"Mmm," Seraphine murmured, sipping from her glass. "Is that what they call it now?"
He met her gaze, sharp and unwavering. "You wouldn't bring it up unless something else had reached your ears."
She tilted her head, curious. "Oh, I hear many things, Adrian. Like how Lady Lila Hart's workshop was nearly sabotaged. How her markets are being destabilized. How whispers say she's unfit to manage her house."
Adrian's hand curled tightly around the glass in his grip. "Whispers," he said flatly, "from the kind of mouths you and I both know not to trust."
"But the court listens," she replied. "Even to lies, if they're sweet enough. And I thought you should know… some are whispering that perhaps you were too generous with her. That perhaps your interests were not entirely political."
Adrian's jaw tightened. So this was Evelyne's next move. She couldn't touch Lila's business, so she went after her name.
Her reputation.
"How far has it spread?" he asked, voice low.
Seraphine leaned in slightly. "Far enough that your name is being linked to hers in ways that make the older nobles… uncomfortable. And the Crown Prince is very interested in who you plan to align yourself with now that you've returned."
Adrian's eyes flicked briefly to where the Crown Prince was laughing in conversation across the room, but his thoughts were miles away. He could see Lila's face in his mind—eyes wide with fire and conviction, always fighting harder than anyone expected her to. She didn't deserve this.
"I have no regrets about helping House Hart," he said.
Seraphine studied him. "Nor do I think you should. But she will be the one who pays for your absence, Adrian. If you care about her, I'd advise you to act soon."
With a gentle bow, she disappeared back into the crowd.
Later that night, Adrian stood alone in his guest chamber, moonlight pouring in through the tall windows. His fists clenched at his sides as the full scope of what was happening settled into his chest like a weight.
Evelyne.
She had waited for this moment—for him to leave Lila unguarded, for the court to look elsewhere. She knew how to play this game. Smear Lila's name, erode her foundation, and when the nobles turned their backs, swoop in to deliver the final blow. He should have anticipated it.
He moved quickly to the desk, pulling out a scroll and ink. If letters couldn't be trusted, then he'd find someone to deliver the message himself. Someone loyal. He needed to warn her. No, more than that, he needed to return.
The following morning, Adrian requested a private audience with the Crown Prince.
By mid-afternoon, he was in the gilded audience chamber, standing before the man who held his future in his jeweled hand.
"You wish to leave court already?" the Crown Prince said, arching an elegant brow. "You've only just returned to us, Lord Blackwood."
"There's unrest in the northern provinces,"
Adrian lied smoothly. "Trade routes are unstable. I must ensure the territories I manage remain secure."
The prince studied him for a long moment, then gave a slow nod. "Very well. But don't stay gone too long, Adrian. I have plans for you. Big ones."
Adrian bowed low. "Of course, Your Highness."
As he rode through the palace gates two days later, cloak billowing behind him, Adrian could only think of one thing:
Lila. Hold on.
I'm coming back. And this time, I won't leave you unprotected again.