The rhythm of the carriage wheels against the cobblestones felt like a victory march. Inside the velvet-lined interior, Evelina leaned her head against the window frame, watching the silver moonlight dance over the passing manor walls. Beside her, the signed contract with Brick felt heavy and powerful—a physical manifestation of her first true strike against the invisible walls of this era.
The Duchess sat in silence, her sharp eyes occasionally flickering toward Evelina with a mixture of newfound respect and lingering curiosity. Evelina didn't mind the scrutiny. She was busy calculating the variables for the next day. Tomorrow wasn't just a meeting; it was a grand stage.
It will be a word battle, Evelina thought, her fingers tracing the lace on her cuff. A girl's play, the kind Isabella excels at.
