Chapter 31: Something is up

The hour was late, and the halls of the royal court had long emptied of the day's louder men, those who only spoke when the galleries were full. Now, behind closed doors and thick curtains, the real game was being played in whispers.

Nathaniel Wycliffe stood near the fire, the flames casting sharp light along the stark lines of his profile. He didn't sit. He rarely did. Power, he knew, was better wielded standing.

Across from him, lounging in a leather chair like a fox too clever for his own good, Lord Gideon Vale sipped brandy with an amused smile playing at his lips.

"So," Gideon drawled, twirling the glass between his fingers, "Her Majesty detests you more than ever. Which means, naturally, you've struck the right nerve."

Nathaniel's expression didn't shift. "Her distaste is irrelevant. The king still breathes."

"For now." Gideon arched a brow. "But the vultures circle."

Nathaniel turned from the fire and crossed the room to the table, where maps and letters had been spread. His gaze swept over troop placements, reports from the border, trade instability. "Prince Benedict's camp is disorganized. He masks ambition with performative civility, but he's too eager. He overreaches."

Gideon's mouth quirked. "And yet you spent the evening fencing words with him in the corridor like you were old schoolmates."

Nathaniel's gaze was cold. "I was measuring the knife he meant to plunge into my back."

"A romantic way to phrase treason." Gideon leaned forward, elbows on knees. "And yet I wonder what your next move is, Wycliffe. You've danced just enough to keep them nervous but not enough to declare where you stand."

Nathaniel studied him for a long moment. "My loyalty is not for sale."

"No, but your silence might be," Gideon said, then smirked. "And your absence makes people… uneasy."

Nathaniel didn't reply immediately. His fingers brushed one of the sealed missives on the table, his eyes unreadable. "I will return to Wycliffe manor soon. There's no more to gain in London at the moment."

Gideon's smirk widened, more mischievous now. "Ah. So the country air calls to you. Or is it the new duchess who lingers in your thoughts?"

Nathaniel's jaw tightened, only the faintest twitch of muscle betraying him. "Don't be vulgar."

"Oh, come now. A frigid estate and a warm wife, who could resist?" Gideon chuckled. "I'm told she's quite lovely."

Nathaniel turned away, voice low but firm. "That's none of your concern."

"I stand corrected," Gideon said smoothly, rising to pour himself more brandy. "It is none of my concern, which only makes it all the more fascinating."

Nathaniel collected the papers into a neat bundle, movements exact. "Send a message to the stables. I'll be riding at first light."

"Back to the manor," Gideon mused. "To your duchess, your secrets… and whatever ghosts you've left haunting those halls."

Nathaniel's eyes flicked to him, colder than the wind rattling the windows. "Let the court chase ghosts. I'll deal in facts."

He turned and left the room, his cloak swirling behind him, leaving Gideon alone in the firelight with a smirk and his brandy.

"Poor Lady Evelyn," Gideon murmured to himself. "She has no idea what she's married."

Dinner at Wycliffe Manor

The grand dining hall of Wycliffe Manor glowed with candlelight, long shadows flickering delicately with each movement of the guests seated at the long oak table.

Evelyn sat to the Duke's right, though his seat remained empty in his absence. Lord Emilio occupied the chair at the head, gracious but quiet. Lady Rosalind was ever the composed hostess, her sharp tongue softened only slightly by the presence of guests. Across from Evelyn sat Juliana, radiant as always, but… distracted.

Evelyn had noticed it almost immediately.

The younger girl's cheeks were flushed with a rosy hue that lingered long past the temperature of the soup. Her eyes, usually bright and teasing, darted away whenever Evelyn looked her way. She picked at her roasted pheasant and vegetables, eating very little, and at one point let out a soft sigh that earned a raised brow from Rosalind.

"You seem unusually quiet tonight, Juliana," Lady Rosalind remarked over a sip of wine, her voice casual but not without bite. "Has the fresh air exhausted you?"

Juliana blinked, forcing a too-wide smile. "Oh no, Aunt. Just lost in thought."

"Hmm." Rosalind dabbed her mouth with her napkin. "Do make sure those thoughts remain appropriate."

Juliana laughed lightly, though her voice caught at the end. "Of course."

Evelyn watched her, intrigued. The young woman who had, just hours ago, been a whirlwind of chatter and giggles earlier but now seemed distracted, giddy, perhaps, but trying hard to hide it.

She leaned in gently. "Did something happen today?" she asked softly.

Juliana's eyes widened slightly, and she shook her head too quickly. "Not at all. Just… glad for the outing, I suppose."

Evelyn gave a small nod but said nothing more. She could sense there was something left unsaid. Something Juliana wasn't ready to share or couldn't.

As the meal ended and the plates were cleared away, Juliana stood up hastily before Lady Rosalind could make her usual suggestion for post-dinner tea.

"If no one minds," she said brightly, "I think I'll retire early. I've a bit of a headache."

"Do you want Mrs. Bramble to sit with you?" Evelyn asked, concern threading her voice.

Juliana turned to her with a tight smile. "No, no. I'd rather rest alone tonight." Then she turned to the older nursemaid, who was lingering nearby. "Mrs. Bramble, you needn't come up. Truly. I'll be fine."

The elderly nursemaid, who had been ready with her knitting basket and a dose of chamomile tea, looked surprised. "But child, you..."

"I insist," Juliana said gently but firmly, her tone carrying a note of finality that made Mrs. Bramble frown.

"Very well," she muttered. "Call me if you need anything."

With a flurry of skirts, Juliana left the hall.

Evelyn watched her go, unease prickling at her spine. There was a flush in Juliana's cheeks, the kind not caused by wine or exertion. Her steps were light, almost hurried.

Something had changed.

Lady Rosalind stood as well, nodding curtly at the remaining household staff. "It appears the youth of this house are suffering bouts of sudden mystery. Do excuse me, I'll retire as well."

One by one, the family drifted away until Evelyn was left alone in the flickering warmth of the dining hall, pondering the curious look in Juliana's eyes.

She had a feeling that something is up.