SELINA
The Marlowe Estate was quiet that morning. Selina sat at her desk, a stack of invitations spread before her. The handwriting was neat, the ink steady. She had already reviewed each one twice.
Her eyes lingered on a blank sheet. This was the one that mattered. The one addressed to Evelina Everleigh.
She dipped her pen in ink. Her hand moved slowly. Each word sweet, every sentence polished. Yet beneath the pleasantries, the intent was sharp.
She wrote of friendship. Of shared time at court. Of tea and dessert at the Marlowe Estate. The phrasing left no room for refusal.
Selina paused. Her mouth tightened. Evelina. Always with that effortless grace. She recalled the way Ravenscroft's gaze had lingered at the last gathering. Not on her. On Evelina.
The thought pricked her pride. She pressed her pen harder against the page.
The door opened. Count Marlowe entered, his steps even. He glanced at the desk.
"Letters again?" His tone carried light teasing.
Selina gave a faint smile. "Invitations. I want the guests chosen carefully. A single mistake spreads faster than wildfire in court."
The Count leaned against the edge of the desk. "You are thorough. But I know that look. You plot something more than tea."
Selina lowered her eyes. "You always see through me."
He chuckled. "A father learns to read his daughter's face. What worries me is not what you plan, but how far you will go."
Selina raised her chin. "Do you think me reckless?"
"I think you ambitious," he replied. "Ambition demands caution. Strength wins nothing without timing. Strike too soon, and you waste your blade. Strike too late, and you lose your chance. Cleverness is worth more than fury."
Selina considered his words. She said nothing, but the tension in her hands eased.
The Count placed a hand on her shoulder. "Remember this. Courts forgive a misstep in fashion. They do not forgive a misstep in politics. Do not hand your rival the weapon to wound you."
Selina gave a single nod. "I understand, Father."
He left the study, his presence replaced by the quiet scratch of her pen.
She finished the letter, folded it, and sealed it with wax. The crest of House Marlowe pressed firmly against the red seal.
She held the envelope in her hand for a moment, her reflection caught faintly in the polished wood of the desk.
Her thought was sharp and cold. Let Evelina stumble where I control the stage.
Selina set the letter aside. Her decision was final.
***
EVELINA
The Everleigh Estate Garden bloomed in late sunlight. Evelina walked among the flowers with Anna at her side. The air carried the faint scent of roses.
Anna was speaking of a new gown when a servant appeared at the edge of the path. He bowed and held out a sealed letter.
"The courier from House Marlowe, my lady," he said.
Evelina accepted it. Her eyes fell on the crest pressed into the wax. The Marlowe seal.
Her steps slowed. A small unease stirred in her chest. She knew this seal. She knew Selina.
Anna peered curiously. "From Lady Selina?"
"Yes." Evelina did not open it yet. She turned the envelope in her hand. "What purpose does she find in writing to me?"
She remembered Selina's manner at court. The smile that carried weight, the words that hid barbs. Rivalry cloaked in courtesy.
Anna tilted her head. "Will you open it?"
Before Evelina could answer, her mother entered the garden. The Marchioness moved with calm grace, her eyes falling quickly to the letter in Evelina's hand.
Her lips curved in a knowing smile. "A letter, Evelina? You look as though you hold a sword, not paper. Is it from an admirer?"
Evelina laughed softly. "No, Mother. From Lady Selina Marlowe."
Her mother raised a brow. "Ah. Then no wonder you hesitate. She is not known for idle chatter. Read it. Let us see what play she makes."
Evelina broke the seal. She read the words slowly. Courteous. Warm on the surface. An invitation to ball at the Marlowe Estate. The phrasing made it difficult to refuse without insult.
Anna leaned close. "It sounds polite. But it feels like something more."
Evelina folded the letter once. Her gaze was distant. "Selina does not move without reason. She has measured every word. A ball is never only dances and graces when she is host."
Her mother studied her face. "Do you wish to decline?"
Evelina's hands stilled. "If I decline, I offend her openly. If I accept, I walk into her house on her terms."
Anna frowned. "Both paths seem dangerous."
Evelina gave a quiet laugh. "Yes. That is her intent."
The Marquess placed a gentle hand on Evelina's arm. "Then weigh it. You do not need to fear a trap if you are prepared for one. The court watches. To appear fearful is worse than to risk discomfort. Attend her ball, but do so guarded. Do not let her see you stumble."
Evelina's hesitation softened. She nodded slowly. "You are right. If this is a stage she builds, then I will walk it steady. I will not falter."
She folded the letter again and set it aside on the stone bench near the path. The decision settled in her mind.
Anna looked at her with concern. "You will go, then?"
"Yes." Evelina's voice was calm. "I will go."
Her thought was firm. If this is a test, I will not falter.
She rose, her expression steady, and left the garden with her mother and Anna close behind.