CHAPTER 17: NIGHT SHADOWS AND BANDAGES

Leo’s POV

The grand clock in the main foyer was chiming three in the morning when I slipped through the side entrance of Valenridge Manor, taking care to keep my boots quiet against the dark stone floor.

It had been a wild night in the lower valley tavern—loud music, heavy laughter, and a sudden, chaotic brawl over a game of dice. I managed to avoid most of the flying chairs, but a shattered glass bottle caught the back of my knuckles on my way out. My right hand was stinging, blood slowly dripping onto my cuff.

I pushed through the wooden door of the quiet main kitchen, intending to grab a pitcher of cold water and a clean rag before Mother saw the mess in the morning. I didn't expect to see anyone standing near the prep table.

"Bloody hell," I muttered, wincing as I startled a shadow near the hearth.

Eva spun around, an oil lamp in one hand and a leather-bound book tucked under her arm. Her dark eyes widened with alarm before she recognized me.

"Lord Leo!" she whispered, clutching the book against her chest. "You scared me."

I leaned against the heavy oak table, hiding my injured hand behind my back as I offered her a tired, crooked grin. "Why are you up so late?"

Eva set her lamp down, raising a delicate eyebrow. "Why are you just coming home, My Lord?"

"Hey, I asked first," I chuckled.

"I couldn't sleep," Eva replied, gesturing to her book. "I came down to get a warm mug of milk and read in the quiet."

I tilted my head, looking at the heavy spine. "Reading at three in the morning? You really are dedicated to pretending you enjoy studying, aren't you?"

A small laugh escaped her, and the genuine warmth in her expression caught me off guard.

Then her gaze dropped to my hand. The amusement vanished immediately.

"My Lord, you're bleeding."

"It's just a scratch," I insisted, waving my good hand dismissively. "Some fool at the tavern thought he could play dice with bad luck."

"Sit," Eva commanded gently, pulling out a wooden stool.

She retrieved a clean bowl, warm water from the hearth stove, and a roll of fresh bandages before returning to me. I took my seat as she dipped a cloth into the water and carefully took hold of my wrist.

I watched her work beneath the soft glow of the lamp. Without her servant's cap, with her dark hair falling loosely over her shoulders, she looked striking. There was an effortless grace about her that felt strangely out of place in the kitchen.

"I didn't think they fought at high-society parties," Eva murmured, concentrating on the cut.

"Only the best parties end in fights," I teased, suppressing a wince as the water touched the scrape. "It means the host did something right."

"I wouldn't know," she replied, wrapping the linen neatly around my palm. "I've never been to one of those parties."

I looked up at her with a grin. "I can tell. I'll have to take you to one someday."

Eva paused for a fraction of a second before offering a quiet smile. "I don't think Mrs. Gable would approve of that, My Lord."

"Mrs. Gable doesn't need to know."

She secured the bandage and looked up at me. "How come you aren't drunk? Don't people usually come home stumbling after a night like that?"

I laughed softly. "That is my golden rule, Eva. Never get completely drunk."

"Oh?"

"I party, I drink a little wine, and I enjoy the night." I held up a finger. "Everything is far more enchanting when you're tipsy. When you're completely drunk, you miss the fun, say foolish things, and wake up with a headache."

Eva shook her head, amusement touching her lips. "You make reckless drinking sound almost enchanting, My Lord."

"It is enchanting," I said, my voice dropping into a playful register. "If you drink with me."

A quiet beat settled between us. Eva didn't pull away immediately. She simply stared back at me, her dark eyes holding that same mysterious quality I could never quite understand.

Then she stepped back and folded her hands over her apron. "Your bandage is done, My Lord."

I stood, flexing my wrapped hand. The cut barely burned anymore.

"Thank you, Eva," I said, offering her a genuine smile.

"Get some rest, Lord Leo," she replied, picking up her book and lamp.

"Don't stay up too late getting sucked into that book," I teased as I headed toward the door. "I'd hate for Mother's new personal maid to fall asleep while pouring her morning tea."

"I promise I won't," she whispered.

I gave her a final wink and slipped into the dark corridor, heading upstairs to my bedchamber. As I walked, I glanced down at the neat white wrap around my knuckles.

Lucian was searching for a mysterious noblewoman in a yellow dress. But sitting in our quiet kitchen at three in the morning, I couldn't help wondering if the most intriguing woman in the entire valley was already living beneath our roof.