After arriving at the Duchy of Lawrence, Evie was startled to find the Duke, the Duchess, and several maids waiting in front of the grand gates.
The Duchess, her voice sharp with anger, snapped,
"Where have you been, you wretch…?"
The Duke's eyes narrowed.
"The servants said you disappeared at the hospital. Where were you all this time?"
Evie stood silent for nearly ten seconds, her expression unreadable.
The Duchess pressed on, her voice rising,
"Do you not have a tongue to answ—"
Before she could finish, a servant burst in through the gates, his clothes and skin smeared with black soot.
"My lord! My lady!" he shouted, breathless.
"What is it?" the Duke demanded.
"The bakery, sir—it's… it's burned to the ground! Completely!"
"What?" Gasps erupted from everyone present. Whispers rippled through the crowd—how had it happened, and who could have done it?
Evie, without a word, turned and walked into the castle, heading straight toward her room.
Behind her, the Duke's voice thundered,
"Who is responsible? How did this happen? Answer me!"
The servant coughed, his voice trembling.
"We… we don't know. Only that there was a single message scrawled on the bakery wall…"
The Duchess stepped forward sharply.
"What was it? Speak!"
"It read… 'Under the domain and curse of Nerium Oleander, you shall all be damned.'"
A shiver passed through the gathering. Evie's entrance into the castle, the shocking announcement of the fire, and the ominous curse had left everyone shaken. Tension and fear settled over the air—the Duke's rage was palpable, the Duchess's eyes filled with suspicion toward Evie, though she dared not voice it. She feared the girl.
Only Louis knew the truth—he had left the message himself, a warning for the Duchess to cease her meddlesome behavior.
Evie entered her room with a faint smile—only to stop in her tracks.
Someone was already there.
A tall figure sat casually in the vanity chair, shrouded in shadow. The curtains swayed with the night breeze, the window wide open, and the full moon spilling silver light into the room.
His voice broke the silence.
"It's remarkable… A child of eight, unable to utter a single word just days ago, now transformed into the grace of a learned noblewoman. And not only that—executing a flawless plan to escape spies, persuading Duke Ramon himself—a man even the king struggles to sway—ha! And then… a bold threat to the Duchess herself. My, my… Who exactly are you, Lady Evie?"
For a moment, Evie said nothing. Then, in a calm tone,
"Sir William… I believe our meeting was scheduled for tomorrow at noon, not tonight."
William did not reply. He rose from the chair and stepped toward her.
Evie's gaze did not waver.
"And what Now?, Sir William—****"**
He froze, eyes widening.
"Well, well… How could you possibly know that?"
Evie's lips curved into a faint smile.
"Sir William… there is a saying: Never give the cook your recipe, nor the blacksmith your hammer. But… what if I told you the Oleander flowers speak to me?"
William stared at her, momentarily struck speechless. Then, without hesitation, he dropped to one knee.
**"My lady… no—my queen. In the name of William ****, I swear to be your most loyal servant."
Evie stepped closer, her voice soft yet commanding.
"Under the protection and blessing of Nerium Oleander… I, Evie Alexander, accept you, William." … Though in truth, Evie's words were nothing but layered nonsense.