The morning began with laughter in the drawing room. Light fell through the tall windows, catching the silver threads of the curtains. Evelina sat beside her friend, Victoria, who had come early for tea. They had been speaking of dresses and gardens, the kind of light conversation that filled the space between obligations.
But laughter is a fragile thing. It can vanish in a single breath.
The sound of hurried footsteps echoed from the hall before the butler appeared, his composure slipping beneath the weight of gossip he could not contain.
"Forgive me, my lady," he said with a quick bow, "but a courier from the palace has brought a letter for your father. It bears the royal seal. He is in his study now."
Victoria raised her brows. "How grand. The palace does not write often unless there is scandal or celebration."
Evelina smiled faintly, but the unease in her chest stirred. "Let us hope it is the latter."
When the butler left, Victoria leaned closer, her voice dropping. "Have you heard, by the way, about Lord Ravenscroft?"
Evelina froze. "What about him?"
Victoria lowered her teacup, eyes wide with the thrill of forbidden knowledge. "They say a great alliance is about to be sealed. Two noble houses joining through marriage. The Crown Princess herself is said to favor it."
The words came too quickly. Evelina's heartbeat stumbled. "You mean Lucian," she said, barely managing to sound calm.
Victoria nodded. "Yes. Lord Lucian of Ravenscroft and Lady Selina Marlowe. They say it is nearly arranged."
Evelina's throat tightened. "Arranged?"
"That is the word in every hall. And apparently,"Victoria continued, lowering her voice even more, "there is another part to it. They say a young noblewoman, unnamed, of course, is doing everything she can to stop the union. Some claim she has already compromised herself for his affection."
The room tilted slightly. Evelina placed her teacup down before it could tremble from her hand.
Victoria went on, unaware of the wound her words were opening. "I should not repeat it, but it is said the noble girl's family has ties to the Grand Duke's faction. The whispers imply that her affection for Ravenscroft is being used as leverage in the council. The Queen is furious."
Evelina could hardly breathe. "And the girl?" she asked quietly.
Beatrice gave a small, pitying smile. "Whoever she is, she will be ruined if it continues. You know how these stories work. The court never forgets a scandal, even when it is built on lies."
The sound of the rain beginning again outside seemed almost kind compared to the noise in Evelina's mind.
Victoria rose a short while later, chattering about upcoming feasts and carriages, her words floating like meaningless echoes. Evelina smiled where she had to, answered when she could, and saw her friend to the door with steady hands.
When the hall was empty again, she turned and pressed a hand against the wall to steady herself.
Her heart was racing, but not from surprise. Deep down, she had known something like this would come. It was too perfect a weapon for Montclair to ignore, a romance twisted into ruin, a noblewoman caught between factions, a story to feed to the court.
Still, knowing and feeling were not the same.
She returned to her room, her thoughts spiraling. The pendant from Alistair still lay hidden in her drawer, the silk ribbon wound tight around it. She stared at it now, the red stone gleaming faintly as if it knew something she did not.
If the rumors were true, if the Crown Princess truly meant to arrange a marriage between Lucian and Selina, then the court had found its perfect ending. The alliance would unite Ravenscroft's influence with the royal family's will, cementing power on one side and leaving the Grand Duke weakened.
And she, Evelina Everleigh would be nothing more than a cautionary tale.
Her father's voice came from the doorway. "You heard."
She turned quickly. "How could I not? It is already spreading."
The Marquess stepped inside, his face drawn with quiet concern. "The council sent a notice this morning. It is not an official announcement, but the intent is clear. The Queen has begun to entertain the idea of a union between Lord Ravenscroft and Lady Marlowe. Montclair's faction supports it publicly. They call it a 'necessary reconciliation of noble houses.'"
Evelina's throat burned. "And the rest?"
Her father hesitated. "There are other rumors, yes. About a young lady who opposes the match. I am told the Queen herself has asked that the matter be kept quiet."
"So they believe it."
"They believe whatever suits their politics," he said. "Truth is a luxury few of them can afford."
Evelina sank into her chair, her voice trembling. "Father, this will destroy everything. They will say I tried to ruin a royal alliance. That I was selfish. That I was reckless."
The Marquess crossed the room and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Listen to me, Evee. You must not let their words become your truth. We will not answer their gossip. We will remain silent. If you deny it, they will call it guilt. If you defend him, they will call it proof. The only way to survive this is to give them nothing."
"But Lucian—"
"Lucian will have to fight his own battle," her father said gently. "He has chosen his path, and I do not doubt he will fight for you in his own way. But we cannot place ourselves between the Crown Princess and her brother's ambitions. Not now."
Evelina looked up at him, her eyes glistening. "You mean we cannot protect him."
"I mean we must protect you first."
He said it with love, but the words struck her like a closing door.
When he left, she remained there for a long time, staring at the window. The rain had grown heavier, blurring the garden into shades of gray. The world outside felt distant, unreachable.
She tried to imagine Lucian hearing the same rumors. She could almost see him standing before the council, silent as they whispered around him. She wondered if he had heard the part about her — the noble girl foolish enough to believe she could stand against the Crown's will.
The thought of it made her chest ache.
She rose and crossed to the writing desk, pulling out a sheet of parchment. The quill trembled slightly in her hand.
Lucian,
I have heard what they are saying. They speak of you and Lady Selina, of a union arranged by your sister, and of a foolish girl who seeks to stand in its way. I do not know how much of it you have seen, but I cannot bear to be silent. Not again.
If you must marry her, if it is the only way to protect your family, I will understand. I will not ask you to choose between us and the world you must defend. But I cannot be the story they are telling. I will not be their scapegoat. You once promised to set things right. I only ask that you do so before they destroy everything we were.
— E.
She read it twice before setting it aside. Sending it would only feed the fire. Every letter could be intercepted, every word twisted. Still, writing it helped her breathe again.
The rain eased as evening fell, leaving the world washed and still. Evelina lit a single candle and watched the flame flicker in the silence. Her thoughts moved between fear and faith, between the memory of Lucian's promise and the shadow of Alistair's ambition.
The Grand Duke would not stop. He had planted this rumor carefully, feeding both sides. If the marriage happened, he would stand as the architect of peace. If it failed, the blame would fall neatly on her shoulders.
Either way, he won.
Evelina pressed her hand against her heart. "Not yet," she whispered to herself. "Not if we still have the truth."
Outside, the wind shifted, carrying the faint toll of the cathedral bell. She thought of Lucian again, his quiet strength, the way he had said her name as if it were something sacred.
Whatever storm was coming, she would face it. If the court meant to write her story for her, she would find a way to take the pen back.
For now, though, she sat in the soft glow of the candlelight, listening to the rain return. The world was quiet, but her resolve had never felt louder.