Chapter 38: A Choice Unmade

Seraphina barely touched her breakfast.

The golden pastries sat untouched on her plate, the tea in her cup had gone cold, and yet she remained seated at the small table by the window, staring blankly at the gardens below.

She had not seen Adrian since last night.

His words echoed in her mind, over and over.

"I won't chase you. But I won't wait forever, either."

She had been so certain she wanted distance, that she needed time to regain control over herself. But Adrian had done the one thing she had not expected.

He had stepped away.

And now, instead of relief, all she felt was the heavy, suffocating weight of loss.

The door creaked open behind her, and Seraphina turned sharply, her pulse leaping.

But it was not Adrian.

It was Marianne, carrying a folded letter on a silver tray.

"A message for you, Your Grace."

Seraphina exhaled and nodded. "Set it there."

Marianne hesitated before placing the letter beside Seraphina's plate. "Will you be requiring anything else this morning?"

Seraphina forced a smile. "No, that will be all."

Marianne curtsied and left, leaving her alone once more.

Her gaze drifted to the letter.

The wax seal was unfamiliar—not from Adrian, then.

With a sigh, she unfolded it, her eyes scanning the elegant script.

Your Grace,

I write in regard to a matter of utmost urgency concerning your father's case. There are developments that cannot be discussed through letters. If you wish to uncover the truth, come alone to the Montverre library at midnight.

Do not bring the Duke.

A friend.

Seraphina's fingers tightened around the parchment.

A midnight meeting. A warning to come alone. It reeked of danger.

Her first instinct was to tear the letter apart.

She had been down this path before—shrouded letters, hidden truths, half-whispered warnings. And they had never led to anything but heartache.

But this was about her father.

The truth she had been chasing for years now dangled before her, and if she turned away, she might never get another chance.

Seraphina closed her eyes, her mind spinning.

She knew what Adrian would say. It's a trap. You won't go alone.

And yet, the thought of telling him—of letting him pull her deeper into his world of control and calculated decisions—made something inside her recoil.

No.

This was her choice to make.

She would go.

Alone.

---

That night, Seraphina dressed in the simplest gown she owned, a deep blue cloak fastened over her shoulders. She told herself she was not afraid, but the unsteady beat of her heart betrayed her.

The halls of Valemont Manor were silent as she slipped through them, her steps quiet against the marble.

She reached the servants' entrance undetected, stepping into the cool night air.

The carriage she had arranged waited in the shadows, the driver nodding as she climbed inside.

As the wheels began to move, Seraphina let out a breath.

She had done it.

She was free.

For now.

---

Montverre Library was shrouded in darkness when she arrived.

The grand stone structure loomed ahead, its towering windows reflecting the silver glow of the moon.

Seraphina stepped down from the carriage, instructing the driver to wait at a discreet distance.

Drawing her cloak tighter around her, she approached the entrance, pushing open the heavy wooden door.

The library was eerily silent.

Only the dim glow of a single candle flickered in the vast room, casting long shadows across the bookshelves.

She took a cautious step forward.

"Hello?"

No answer.

Seraphina's pulse quickened.

Then—

A whisper of movement behind her.

She whirled, but too late.

A firm hand closed over her mouth, silencing her gasp. Another seized her wrist in an iron grip.

Panic shot through her, but before she could struggle—

A low voice murmured against her ear.

"Did you really think I wouldn't know?"

Adrian.

Seraphina's entire body tensed as recognition slammed into her.

His grip was firm but not painful, his warmth unmistakable even in the darkness.

"Did you think you could slip away unnoticed?" His voice was quiet, laced with something dangerous.

Her breath came in short, sharp bursts against his gloved palm.

He had followed her.

Her stomach twisted. "Let me go."

Adrian hesitated—then, slowly, his fingers loosened, allowing her to turn and face him.

Even in the dim candlelight, his expression was unreadable, but his eyes burned.

"Give me one reason," he said, his voice deceptively calm, "why I shouldn't take you back this instant."

Seraphina swallowed hard.

"I had to come."

Adrian's jaw tightened. "Alone?"

She lifted her chin. "Yes."

A muscle ticked in his jaw. "You reckless, stubborn woman."

Seraphina opened her mouth to argue, but before she could, Adrian took a step forward, his hands gripping her shoulders.

"You could have been hurt. Or worse," he bit out. "Do you understand that?"

His anger should have infuriated her. Should have made her fight him.

But beneath his fury, she saw something else—something raw.

Fear.

Her heart clenched.

Adrian had not come here because he wished to control her.

He had come because he was afraid to lose her.

Seraphina's breath shuddered as something inside her wavered.

For so long, she had convinced herself she did not need him.

But standing here, feeling the heat of his anger, the depth of his worry—

Perhaps, just perhaps—

She was wrong.