Chapter 41: Whispers of the Future

The streets of London at night had a pulse of their own.

A rhythm. A breath.

The gas lamps flickered, casting long shadows over the worn cobblestones, as figures moved in and out of the narrow alleys. Laughter and the clinking of glasses spilled from the taverns, mingling with the distant strains of a violin played by a street musician.

This was a world far removed from Cavendish Manor—from the stiff, structured life I had always known.

And yet, I belonged here.

At least, that’s how it felt when I was with Julian.

I walked beside him, my cloak wrapped tightly around me, the hood drawn low to conceal my face. There was a thrill in moving through the city unnoticed, as though I had shed the skin of Charlotte Aldridge, the nobleman's daughter, and become someone else entirely.

"Are you cold?" Julian’s voice was low, almost lost in the sounds of the city.

I shook my head. "No."

And it was the truth.