Olivia remained frozen in a stony silence. There was no point in arguing with her father; she had learned long ago that words were merely fuel for his cruelty. She would simply let him vent his malice upon her until his bloodlust subsided—it was a losing game she had played a thousand times before.
But Edward could no longer endure the sight of her suffering. "Leave her be," he rasped, his voice cutting through the gloom. "And I will do it."
The Duke paused, leaning back as he set the dagger aside with a clatter. "What?"
"The recording... or whatever it is you demand," Edward repeated, his eyes fixed on Olivia's trembling form. "Just let the girl go."
A jagged, mocking laughter erupted from her father. "Fools pitying fools. How utterly enchanting. Very well, Olivia—you've escaped your punishment this time. But do not think I will be so merciful the next."
