Chapter 1

"Congratulations, Vivienne. A pureblood. The best news House Ashford has had in ten years."

That was Ashford Elaine’s voice, carrying out of the great hall.

I stopped outside the door with the monthly ledger in my arms. The estate accounts had always been my job — I ran the numbers, delivered them to Elaine on the first of every month.

The blood physician had come yesterday. The results were in.

I pushed the door open.

Everyone went quiet.

Vivienne was leaning into Alaric’s chest, turning the necklace at her throat back and forth in the light. Making sure I saw it.

It was the Ashford Crest. Three hundred years old.

The crystallized blood of the first Lord Ashford sealed inside the stone. Every Lord since has clasped it around his Lady’s neck on their bonding night, with his own hands.

She looked straight at me. But she spoke to Alaric.

“The Ashford Crest. This belongs to the Lady of the House, doesn’t it?”

Elaine laughed. “Don’t be silly. You’re carrying the Ashford heir — the firstborn pureblood. Of course it’s yours.”

Alaric didn’t notice me until then. He let go of Vivienne and came over.

I smelled her on him before he got close. Tuberose. That perfume had been living on his skin for months — thick, sweet, impossible to ignore. I’d trained myself to hold my breath for the first sixty seconds whenever he walked into a room.

Today I couldn’t. My stomach flipped.

“Maren.” He dropped his voice, gentle. “The physician says the Crest helps stabilize a pureblood pregnancy. I gave it to Vivienne for now. You understand.”

Not a question.

Vivienne was already tugging at the chain. “Oh, Maren, I’m so sorry — he only lent it to me because I haven’t been sleeping. Here, I’ll take it off.” She yanked the chain hard. It dug into the back of her neck and left a red mark.

Her eyes filled. “Alaric. It hurts.”

He was at her side before I could blink. “Don’t take it off. It’s yours now. I’ll get Maren something new.”

Something new.

He turned back to me like it was already settled. “Maren, just let Vivienne keep the necklace. You’ve always been reasonable. You wouldn’t want her uncomfortable, not in her condition.”

Elaine set her teacup down. The porcelain clicked against the table, and the whole room heard it.

“Three years in this family, and not a single child. Vivienne is carrying a pureblood, and you’re going to make a fuss over a necklace?”

“She’s done what you couldn’t. She’s giving this House an heir. You should be grateful.”

“You’re a Hartley. A general’s daughter. Do I really have to explain this to you?”

I looked at the Crest hanging against Vivienne’s skin. On our wedding night, Alaric had clasped it around my neck himself. I loved it so much I kept it in a velvet box after the honeymoon, terrified I’d scratch it.

Now it sat on another woman’s chest, glowing dark red under the chandelier.

My chest ached. But when I spoke, my voice came out flat and steady.

“It looks better on Vivienne than it ever did on me. It’s a gift from Alaric. Wear it well.”

Vivienne touched the necklace and smiled. “Thank you, Maren.”

Elaine sniffed. “At least she knows her place.”

Alaric was staring at me. He’d been braced for tears. For a fight. In three years, I’d never let something like this slide without pushing back. He had a whole speech ready — I could see it sitting behind his eyes, rehearsed and waiting.

But I just set the ledger on the corner of the table, said the kitchen needed the accounts, and left.

The speech never got its moment. That bothered him more than any scene I could’ve made.

On my way out, I heard Vivienne’s voice behind me, sweet and soft: “Alaric, feel — I think the baby just moved.”

Too early. The physician said two months at least.

Nobody corrected her.

That night, I was at my dressing table taking down my hair when he showed up.

A knock. Then the door. He’d changed into something casual — sleeves rolled to the elbow. It didn’t matter. He could’ve been wearing a bathrobe. Alaric walked into any room and owned it. That kind of presence doesn’t come from clothes.

“Are you angry?” he asked.

“Why would I be angry?”

He crossed the room, pulled me up from the chair, and wrapped his arms around me from behind. His skin was cool. His chin settled on top of my head — this used to be the safest place in the world. Now I stood inside it counting my breaths, waiting for it to be over.

“I know these last few months haven’t been fair to you,” he said into my hair. “Vivienne’s pregnant. My part is done. From now on, I’m all yours.”

I watched him in the mirror. Movies get it wrong — he had a reflection. Clear as day. Clear enough that I could see his collar undone at the top.

“You said once she got pregnant, you’d be done with her,” I said. “Is that true?”

Some part of me was still hoping.

He squeezed the tip of my nose, playful. Like I was a kid being silly. “Of course it’s true. You’re my wife. The one I swore the Blood Vow to. She’s pregnant now — Mom has no reason to send me to the east wing anymore.”

“And we should start trying too.” His voice dropped lower. “I want you carrying my baby. Then you’ll stop worrying about nothing.”

He leaned in to kiss me.

Right before his lips touched mine, I caught it.

Tuberose. Same strength as this afternoon. Not leftover — leftover fades by evening. This was fresh.

He’d been with her tonight. Then he came to me.

For months I’d forced myself not to do the math. The scent on his skin, what time he came back, whether he’d showered or not. I told myself it was his duty. Elaine’s orders. The family’s needs.

But tonight, after he took the Crest off my neck and put it on hers, the smell hit different.

My body made the call before my brain did. I turned my face away.

His lips landed next to my ear.

The air between us went stiff.