CHAPTER 6: Whispers in the Dark

The estate was unnervingly quiet when I returned from the Winter Auction.

Snow had begun to fall, muting the crunch of carriage wheels and the soft creak of the front gates. Inside, the air carried the faint tang of wine and ash from the drawing room’s dying fire.

I had barely removed my gloves before Damien’s voice cut through the silence.

“Enjoy your evening?”

He was waiting in the shadowed corner of the hall, still in his navy coat, his hair slightly mussed not from wind, but from the way he’d been running a hand through it. A sure sign of restraint barely holding.

I met his gaze evenly. “Immensely.”

He stepped forward, the candlelight catching in his eyes. “Do you know how many tongues you set wagging tonight?”

“Yes. That was the point.”

“Cassian Veyra made a fool of me in front of the entire capital.”

“Correction,” I said, removing my cloak with deliberate calm. “You made a fool of yourself by overpaying for a relic you didn’t win.”

The air between us tightened.

“You’re playing a dangerous game,” Damien said, voice low.

“Better than playing the obedient bride,” I murmured.

His hand shot out, gripping my chin just firmly enough to make my pulse spike not from fear, but from the rush of standing my ground.

“You think Cassian is your friend? He will discard you the moment you’re no longer useful.”

“Then I’ll discard him first.”

For a heartbeat, something flickered in his expression a mix of frustration and something darker before he released me and stepped back.

“Go to bed, Serina.” His voice was ice. “We’ll speak again in the morning.”

I did not go to bed.

Instead, I waited until the house had gone still, then lit a single candle and returned to the drawing room. The snow outside had thickened, blurring the city beyond the frost-laced windows.

That was when I saw a folded slip of parchment resting on the mantel. My name was written across it in a hand I recognized.

Cassian.

I broke the seal.

The garden was silent under the snow, statues and hedges transformed into ghostly shapes. My breath curled white in the air as I approached the North Gate. Cassian stood there, a dark silhouette against the drifting flakes.

“You’re late,” he said, though there was no real reproach in his tone.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d be here.”

“I always keep my appointments.”

I stepped closer, the crunch of snow under my boots loud in the quiet. “Why summon me?”

His gaze swept over me, assessing, as if weighing how much to reveal. “Because you humiliated Damien tonight, and that makes you interesting.”

“I thought I’d already earned that distinction.”

“Not like this.” He moved closer, until the faint scent of leather and cold steel wrapped around me. “He hates you now. Truly. And hate is a far more useful weapon than indifference.”

“Are you offering me a blade to wield, Cassian?”

He smiled slowly, deliberately. “I’m offering you a battlefield. One Damien can’t control.”

We spoke in low voices, mapping out the threads of Damien’s influence in the capital the merchants he owned through debt, the nobles he kept in line with favors, the servants whose loyalty he bought with promises.

Cassian’s knowledge was frighteningly precise. Every name he gave me was another stone I could pull from under Damien’s feet.

When at last I turned to leave, Cassian caught my wrist. “One more thing,” he said.

I looked back.

“When you finally take him down… I want to be there.”

Snow fell between us, catching in his hair. For a moment, I almost believed he meant it as more than strategy.

“Then stay close,” I said. “The best blows are struck from within arm’s reach.”

His grin sharpened. “Careful, Serina. You might start enjoying my company.”

By the time I returned to my chamber, the snow had buried every footprint in the garden. No one would know I had met him.

But Damien’s face at breakfast would tell me if he suspected.