---
In the evening, Irene headed to the dining hall as requested. Waiting for her were Richard, Elizabeth, and Violet. She entered quietly, greeted them in a soft voice, then sat in her usual seat.
Moments of heavy silence passed before dinner began. As she quietly ate her meal, she noticed someone missing. Something felt off in this gathering. Irene looked around, then whispered softly to Elizabeth:
— "May I ask... where is Anita? I haven't seen her since the wedding."
A trace of hesitation crossed Elizabeth's face for a few seconds before she replied, somewhat reluctantly:
— "Oh… actually, Rita sometimes prefers to dine early in her room."
Before Irene could comment, Richard sighed and said in a light tone:
— "That stubborn girl..."
Irene felt something odd, but didn't press further. It wasn't the right time, and she temporarily ignored her instinct. She then gently shifted the topic:
— "I was wondering… what's Lucas's schedule like? I mean, when does he usually come and go?"
Deep down, her question wasn't out of curiosity, but rather to calculate her movements and avoid encountering him as much as possible.
Richard looked at her with slight surprise:
— "Didn't he tell you himself?"
Irene shook her head calmly:
— "I didn't get the chance to ask him..."
But in truth, she hadn't even wanted to. She didn't want that stubborn man to think she cared, contrary to what her words might suggest.
Richard replied in a calm voice:
— "His schedule isn't fixed. It depends on tasks from the king… or from me personally. He's in charge of military affairs: weapon logistics, annual recruitment planning, personnel files, and many other matters. So, most of the time, he's very busy."
(Important context: The Valerian family was divided from the first ancestor between the two brothers—Christophe, the elder, rules the kingdom in full as monarch, while Richard governs military affairs specifically, but under Christophe's supervision.)
Irene didn't get the answer she was hoping for, but deep down, she found comfort in how busy he was. It meant he wouldn't be around often—which played in her favor.
After a short pause, she said quietly:
— "May I use the library? I really love to read."
Elizabeth smiled gently and replied:
— "Irene, you're in your home now. You don't need permission to go anywhere."
Irene thanked her politely, and the rest of the dinner continued in silence.
---
After dinner, Irene returned to her room. Lucas had left earlier that day after bathing. The maids entered to assist her with her own bath. Their gazes reminded her of the palace maids back in Eiscard—looks that hid more than they showed. But, as usual, she ignored them.
Once they left, Irene put on her nightgown and headed to bed. From the drawer, she pulled out a small box of sleeping pills. She had brought a decent supply, knowing full well that nightmares wouldn't spare her—no matter the place. On this particular night, she decided to double the dose, so she wouldn't toss and turn and disturb Lucas's sleep.
She took three pills at once… then lay down.
---
At one in the morning, Lucas entered the room. He placed his watch on the small table beside the bed, then looked up at her.
She was fast asleep… peaceful and still. He didn't seem particularly moved, simply changed his clothes, then walked over to the bed.
Irene was sleeping on the right side, far from him, with two large pillows placed between them. When he saw them, he chuckled sarcastically and thought to himself:
— "Strange… does she sleep so deeply because she thinks those pillows will protect her?"
He turned off the light, lay on the other side… and slept.
---
At dawn, Irene awoke. She opened her eyes slowly, turned, and saw him still asleep on the other side of the bed. A flush of shy unease crept through her—it was the first time she had ever slept beside a man… even if it was a forced circumstance.
She rose quietly, and moments later, there came four knocks on the door… just as she had asked Sally to do beforehand.
She allowed her to enter.
— "Good morning, Lady Ir—"
But Irene raised her hand swiftly, signaling her to lower her voice so as not to wake Lucas. Sally understood the gesture and nodded.
She helped her get ready, and the two headed together to the library.
The sun had barely risen, and calm blanketed the space. Irene sat among the shelves of old books, reading into the ancient history of Valerian, searching the lines for a deeper understanding of this place… and for a new opening.
Irene felt, the more she read in Valerian's library, that something didn't match what she had memorized before. The books were different from the ones she used to read in Eiscard—not just in style, but in substance, in historical accounts, even in names. With each page, her certainty grew that there were deliberate discrepancies, or hidden threads that required sharper awareness.
She closed a book slowly, then turned to Sally and said:
— "I'll send a letter to Fantine in two days."
Sally raised her brows in slight surprise:
— "Really? And what will it say?"
Irene responded calmly, placing her hand on one of the books:
— "I want to ask her to send specific pages from this book in Eiscard."
Sally looked at her, as if trying to grasp something unspoken:
— "The one you're holding now?"
— "Yes."
Sally fell silent for a moment, then nodded. She didn't quite understand what Irene meant, but she respected her silence, and didn't press with questions. She felt that beneath that calm exterior, more intricate intentions were hiding.
---
Afterward, Irene left the library and walked to the garden. The air was gentle, and the light spilled through the branches softly, as if nature itself was offering her a moment of peace. She sat on a stone bench beneath a thick-shaded tree and gazed around.
Everything around her looked beautiful…
As she sat there, Anita passed by in the distance.
Irene saw her… and looked at her quietly, a passing glance without a word.
But Anita paused for a moment, stared at Irene with a cold, prideful expression… then abruptly turned away and continued on with her maid, who seemed to whisper something to her—something they appeared to share as a private secret.
Irene watched them from the corner of her eye without moving, until Sally approached and whispered:
— "Isn't that… your husband's younger sister? What's wrong with her?"
Irene replied with a faint, emotionless smile:
— "Yes… don't pay her much attention. Maybe she hasn't accepted my presence yet—like many others here."
Sally studied Irene's face for a few seconds, then her gaze dropped with quiet sorrow. She mouthed silently:
— "Only because they don't know who you really are… my little lady."
But Irene didn't respond. She simply turned her eyes back to the flowers again.
---
Two quiet days passed.
In the morning, after Lucas left early and Irene bid him farewell as usual, she sat at a small desk in the corner, pulled out a blank sheet, and began writing her first letter in her own handwriting… but she didn't sign it with her name.
She wrote carefully, in a precise and deliberate manner. The opening was written as if from Sally, in a familiar friendly tone, including a few casual lines Fantine would recognize from her. That way, the letter wouldn't raise suspicion if it ever landed in the wrong hands.
Then, halfway through… Irene's real message slipped in:
> "Fantine, I need you to go to the small library. Take the book titled The United Kingdoms, second edition, with the blue cover. Don't tell me no one visits it—I was the only one who did, and no one will notice one book missing. Please, don't send the whole book. Just tear out the necessary pages and send them in two separate letters. We don't want to draw attention. I'll be waiting for your reply."
She finished writing, and read the letter multiple times to make sure everything looked normal on the surface. She folded it carefully and handed it to Sally.
Sally took it and said calmly:
— "I'll send it myself, don't worry. You can count on me."
Irene nodded silently with gratitude, then sealed the letter. The envelope was sent that very day… to Fantine, who had no idea she was now standing at the edge of something far greater than she could imagine.
---