Chapter 48 - Velvet and Vengeance

The rest of the morning passed in a soft haze, as if the estate itself knew the Duke and Duchess deserved a few hours of peace. Verbena spent most of it lounging in the sunlit sitting room, curled up with a book she wasn't actually reading. Her mind wandered far too easily these days — mostly to the silver-haired man she now called her husband.

Theodore had left for his usual round of estate matters, though he promised to join her for lunch in the garden. Normally, she would have been relieved to have time alone, but after last night — after that kiss — his absence left her feeling strangely hollow.

"Falling too fast, aren't you?" she muttered to herself, staring at the page without reading a word. "This wasn't part of the plan, idiot."

The plan. Right. The fake amnesia, the staged distance, the clever escape route — all of it was dissolving like sugar in tea. Somewhere between pretending to fall in love and actually falling, the lines had blurred beyond repair.

A soft knock pulled her out of her thoughts. Eloise stood at the door, holding a tray with a delicate envelope resting atop.

"A letter, My Lady," Eloise said cautiously. "Delivered directly by hand."

Verbena frowned. "From who?"

"There's no name… but the seal is—" Eloise hesitated. "It's from Lady Estella's household."

The mention of that name made Verbena's stomach churn. She took the letter carefully, the weight of it unusually heavy for simple paper. As soon as she broke the seal, a small lock of hair tumbled out — pale silver, unmistakably Theodore's shade.

Her heart stopped.

The letter inside was scrawled in frantic, uneven handwriting:

"My dear Duchess,

If you value your husband's safety, you'll meet me tonight. Alone. No guards, no Duke.

Or perhaps I'll make him mine the way fate intended after all.

Yours truly,

A woman who loves him more than you ever could."

Verbena crushed the paper in her trembling fist, her breath sharp and uneven. This wasn't some desperate noblewoman's tantrum anymore — this was dangerous. Estella wasn't just obsessed; she was unhinged.

Eloise noticed her expression and stepped forward. "Shall I summon His Grace?"

"No," Verbena said quickly. "If Theodore finds out, he'll confront her himself — and who knows what she'll do if she sees him."

"But My Lady—"

"I'll handle it," Verbena cut in. "Tonight. Just me."

Eloise paled but bowed. "As you wish."

---

Later that night.

The moon was a pale sliver, barely lighting the overgrown garden beyond the estate walls. Verbena walked silently, her gown swapped for a simple dark cloak, the hood covering her hair. The air was damp, clinging to her skin like warning fingers urging her to turn back — but she couldn't.

At the far end of the garden, near the old stone fountain, a figure stood waiting. Estella.

She wore a gown too fine for the mud beneath her feet, her curls wild and eyes gleaming with manic light. In her hands, she clutched something — a small velvet box.

"You actually came," Estella said, voice lilting with mock delight. "How brave. Or foolish."

Verbena stepped closer, her heart hammering in her chest. "Let's skip the theatrics. What do you want?"

Estella's smile stretched, too wide, too bright. "To correct fate, of course. Theodore was always meant for me. And you — you're just a mistake."

"Funny," Verbena said coldly. "Because last night, your fate was kissing me in our bed."

Estella's face twisted into something ugly — but she didn't lunge. Instead, she opened the velvet box. Inside lay a thin dagger, its handle encrusted with pale pink jewels.

"Poisoned," Estella said sweetly. "One scratch and the Duke will die within an hour."

Verbena's blood ran cold.

"I found it in a little apothecary in the capital," Estella continued, tracing the blade with a finger. "They call it Lover's Thorn. So poetic, isn't it? One touch from his beloved wife — and he'll die believing you betrayed him."

"You're insane," Verbena hissed.

"No," Estella's smile sharpened. "I'm in love."

Before Verbena could react, Estella lunged — not at her, but at the sleeve of her cloak, slashing the fabric before shoving the dagger into Verbena's hand.

"Now go," Estella whispered. "Touch him with this, just once — or I'll make sure your head rolls long before sunrise."

Verbena stared down at the dagger, her pulse racing so fast it made her dizzy. She could feel the weight of it, the sharp edge biting into her palm. A trap — a twisted, perfect trap.

"I won't do it," she said, voice shaking but firm.

"Oh, but you will." Estella's eyes glinted. "Because if you don't… I have other ways to make him suffer."

Before Verbena could reply, Estella disappeared into the shadows, leaving her alone with the poisoned blade.

---

Back at the estate.

Verbena returned to her chambers, heart pounding so hard it hurt. Theodore was already waiting, seated at the edge of the bed, still dressed from dinner, his silver hair catching the candlelight.

"You disappeared after dinner," he said quietly. "I was worried."

She forced a smile, hiding her trembling hands behind her back. "Just needed air."

He stood, walking toward her, and she fought the urge to step back — the dagger was still tucked into her sleeve, the weight of it unbearable.

Theodore reached for her hand, his touch gentle, his eyes full of quiet affection. "You've been acting strange today."

"Just tired," she whispered.

He leaned closer, brushing his lips against her forehead. "Come to bed, then."

For the first time in days, Verbena didn't know how to answer. Because lying beside him tonight meant risking everything — one slip, one accidental touch, and the poison Estella planted would end everything.

But if she pulled away, he'd know something was wrong.

So she swallowed her fear, letting him lead her to bed. As she lay beside him, the dagger still hidden beneath her pillow, Verbena knew sleep wouldn't come.

Because love was dangerous.

And tonight, it was deadly.

---

End of chapter