Neris sat at the long wooden table in the heart of the vast library, where towering shelves stood like silent sentinels.
The library had become her designated meeting place for planning the upcoming banquet. It reminded her of her old library in the Marquis's palace. She had grown accustomed to this place, as if her presence had become a natural extension of the Duke's household order.
Before her lay stacks of velvet fabric samples, gilded candelabra designs, and meticulously reviewed menu lists that demanded near-microscopic scrutiny.
She rang the small bell placed in front of her.
Lady Edith entered—the castle's housekeeper, formerly employed at Eaton Palace, whom Helen had sent along with Adrian to Carlton. Edith stood rigidly, her eyes carrying a cold gaze that clearly refused to acknowledge this "advisor" as an authority.
"Miss Holsten," Edith began dryly,
"You requested the head chef and the stables master. Are you aware that palace protocol forbids altering their schedules without direct authorization from Lady Helen or Her Grace Duchess Lyzaria?"
Neris lifted her head slowly. Her eyes held no fear—contrary to expectation. With remarkable composure, she extended her hand and slid forward an official document bearing Adrian's personal seal, placing it before Edith with a calm that seemed to compress the room itself.
"Lady Edith," Neris said softly, her voice low yet edged with authority,
"Lady Helen is currently in Eaton. In her absence, I am not merely an advisor—I am the hostess of this banquet, vested with full authority by Duke Adrian. If you believe protocol outweighs your master's orders, you are welcome to discuss it with him directly… in his office. Now."
A heavy silence followed.
Edith's gaze fixed on the seal—the embodiment of Adrian's absolute authority. Her shoulders dipped slightly in an unwilling bow.
"My apologies, Miss Holsten."
"All further coordination will be handled through Jason," Neris continued.
"He will inform you of your duties."
Edith nodded and exited without another word.
Neris looked down at her hands, then drew a slow breath. Only then did the realization settle in:
She had gone from the victim once killed by Adrian, to an advisor, to the hostess—now interfering in the most sensitive details of his own palace, as if she belonged here.
And all of it was because of him.
The door opened again soon after—this time without knocking.
Cecile entered, elegant as ever, yet there was a dangerous gleam in her eyes. She approached the table, lightly brushing the silk samples with lace-covered fingertips.
"My dear sister," Cecile sighed theatrically,
"You're working impressively hard."
"I heard you moved in here."
She wandered between the shelves, fingers gliding over book spines.
"You always loved the library."
Neris did not respond immediately. She closed the file before her and waited.
Cecile finally sat down—uninvited—leaning back with affected ease.
"Don't worry, I won't distract you. I just… wanted to check on you."
She paused, then added lightly,
"Especially after hearing the news reached Helen."
Something tightened briefly in Neris's chest—but she did not show it.
"Helen never gets angry without reason," Cecile continued.
"Do you truly believe she'll accept your presence when she returns in two months? She's quiet—but her silence is the rope she'll hang you with during the social season."
She paused, choosing her words carefully.
"Adrian is using you right now—to rearrange the board. But when the task is finished?"
The library fell into a heavy stillness.
"I'm not saying this out of cruelty," Cecile added, her tone tinged with pity.
"I can't bear the thought of watching you get crushed when he decides the game is over."
She stood and adjusted her white glove.
"Just… think about it."
She left as she had come, leaving behind a void colder than silence.
Neris remained seated.
Unshaken—but pierced.
Cecile's words were not wrong. They struck directly at her deepest fears. Adrian was using her for his own interests. He clearly intended to distance Helen from himself—the rumors surrounding Neris had already begun spreading, just as they once had in her previous life. Those same rumors had driven him to betroth Cecile, who had not yet married at the time, while Neris herself had already been engaged to Hayden.
No matter how she examined Adrian's motives, this explanation stood before her unmistakably.
Yet she knew Adrian was cunning—capable.
He could remove Helen through other means. He was not a man who struck one target with one blow. From observing him, she had learned he preferred to kill several birds with a single stone.
And in this plan—she was that stone.
But how many birds was he trying to hunt through her?
Overwhelmed by Cecile's poisonous words, Neris left her wing in search of fresh air. Her initial destination was the glass greenhouse, but before reaching it, she noticed a familiar figure near the new annex.
Jason stood at the entrance, inspecting the security arrangements. He and Edwin had been the most quietly pleased by Adrian's sudden decision, as if Neris's rise restored a balance the palace had long lacked.
Jason greeted her with warm respect.
"Miss Holsten, what brings you out so late?"
"I needed some air," she replied, glancing toward the open door.
"Is the annex still unfinished?"
"Not yet. The Duke is inside reviewing the construction plans. You might like to see the changes he proposed."
Curiosity—mixed with a strange desire to see Adrian away from the palace's rigid formality—pushed her to agree.
Jason led her through a lavish reception room. She passed the same glass window from which she had once observed Adrian, until they reached the study.
Though small, the annex radiated luxury. Its closeness to the shore lent it an air of complete isolation—something Neris deeply loved.
Inside, she did not find the overly formal Duke she knew.
Adrian sat behind his desk in a white knit shirt, coal-black hair loose in deliberate disarray, sleeves rolled up to reveal old battle scars etched into his forearms—stories she did not know. He leaned back comfortably, silent, watching her with a heavy gaze that made her wish she had left with Jason, who quietly excused himself.
Adrian acknowledged Jason with a silent nod, his eyes never leaving Neris.
"How are you, Neris?" he asked calmly.
"I'm fine," she replied briefly, her words faltering in his presence.
"Sit. Why are you still standing?"
It sounded like a gentle order—one that did not invite refusal.
She sat across from him, a sudden boldness fueled by Cecile's bitterness rising within her.
"I've been wondering… You gave me this role to stop the rumors about you and Helen. But—was that your only goal?"
The corners of Adrian's lips lifted into a faint, enigmatic smile as he leaned forward.
"You prove your intelligence more each day."
"So I'm right. You placed me directly in the line of fire to achieve your goals."
"Well," he replied calmly,
"I told you I wouldn't sacrifice you easily. And I am looking into your father's case."
Anger surged within her—his arrogance, his absolute authority, like an inescapable fate.
She burst out,
"Do you really think I trust you, Duke? Why should I? Have you forgotten my life? Forgotten what you did to me? Why should I believe someone like you?"
Adrian did not flinch. He leaned back, his expression settling into a terrifying calm.
"Your story is indeed strange, Neris," he said evenly.
"Perhaps a vivid dream—or a truth my mind cannot comprehend. But the man standing before you remembers none of what you claim, and has committed no crime against you or your father—at least, not in this world."
"And does forgetting erase the act itself?" she asked bitterly.
His gaze locked onto hers like a blade driven into her soul.
"Blame the version that lives in your imagination. Blame the man who killed you in your dreams. But the man before you now is the only one preventing this world from devouring you. You do not have the luxury of distrusting me—because I am the only option you have left."
She stood abruptly, intending to leave—
—but at that precise moment, the sky erupted into a violent downpour, rain slamming against the windows, turning the annex into an isolated island in the heart of darkness.
"Returning to the palace now is impossible," Adrian said without turning, his voice merging with the thunder.
A sudden chill ran through her. She wore a light evening dress, the cold seeping in with the storm.
Noticing her discomfort, Adrian rose calmly.
"Come with me."
She followed, irritation simmering, cursing the circumstances that trapped them together.
He led her to a warm room, lit the fireplace, and soon the flames consumed the logs.
Neris stood behind him, watching his controlled movements—unable to understand him. At times she feared him, at times hated him, and in moments like this… she felt only confusion.
He gestured to a velvet chair.
"Sit here. I'll finish some work and return."
She watched him leave, her mind roaring with questions.
How could he dismiss her death as mere fantasy?
Could she truly blame him for something he did not remember?
Time passed—she did not know how long—before Adrian returned. Without explanation, he placed a cup of hot coffee beside her and sat across from her, staring into the fire reflected in his dark eyes.
"The weather will grow colder. Be careful," he said casually—yet the words carried suffocating protection.
"Thank you," she replied curtly, still wary.
Silence reigned until sleep overtook her. Her head tilted against the chair.
Adrian stood before her, watching her peaceful face in the firelight. That unfamiliar feeling clawed at his chest again.
Why did he feel as though there was something crucial he needed to fix?
He lifted her carefully, surprised by how small she felt in his arms. In the bedroom, he laid her on the bed and tucked her in gently.
He leaned closer, remembering her question:
Why do you insist on keeping me close?
He did not answer.
Not because the question lacked meaning—
—but because some questions, once asked,
can never return to what they were.
Far from the annex, in his dark room, Henry sat before his small desk, clothes soaked. His face was pale, anger and despair tearing at his heart.
He had followed Neris, wanting to speak to her—but felt a stronger urge to trail her silently. When she entered the annex and he learned from Jason that Adrian was inside, he waited for her to come out.
Then the rain fell.
She never did.
She remained inside that annex for far too long—in the Duke's presence.
Disappointment crushed him.
He should have gone in the moment the rain began. He should have taken her away.
She was slipping from his grasp—into a bottomless abyss.
"I won't let you destroy her, Adrian," Henry muttered bitterly.
He grabbed his pen and began writing an urgent letter. He had to take Neris back—by any means necessary—from the Duke who was holding her captive.
What Henry did not realize…
was that his blind protection
might be the very thing that would destroy everything Neris had built.