Edward Vistro was in his bedchambers, the quiet of the room broken only by the faint sound of water still dripping from the bathroom. He stepped out slowly, a towel draped loosely around his waist, droplets of water tracing lines down his chest and arms before falling onto the floor. The room was large, far larger than any chamber within the estate, with high ceilings and tall windows covered by heavy curtains. This room had once belonged to his father, the former Marquis, and that fact alone made the space feel heavier than it should have.
Edward moved toward the window and looked out at the estate. The lanterns along the pathways glowed softly, and the rebuilt manor stood quiet under the night sky. From the outside, everything looked stable. Orderly. Strong. That was exactly the image he wanted people to see.
Inside his mind, his thoughts were moving far more actively.
His plan was working, exactly as he intended.
