CHAPTER 43: THE PREPARATION

Eva’s POV

​The grand ballroom of the De Witt house was cold and echoey in the early morning light.

​Today was the morning before the wedding, and panic settled deep in my chest. Tonight, before the grand ball opened to the rest of the guests, Lucian and I were expected to perform the traditional opening waltz—a precise, regal ritual expected of the estate's heir and his prospective bride.

​There was only one problem: I had no idea how to dance.

​"No, no, Miss Eva. Up, not down," Lord Max, the strict elderly dance master hired for the morning, huffed as I slammed the heel of my shoe squarely onto his boot for the fourth time. He winced, stepping back with a sharp sigh. "You are... not a very natural dancer, if I may be frank."

​I flushed with embarrassment, pulling my hands back and smoothing my dress. "I am sorry, Lord Max. My feet simply will not obey—"

​"Mind if I take over and teach her?" a smooth, familiar voice called out from the arched doorway.

​I turned to see Leo leaning casually against the high wooden frame, a roguish, playful glint in his warm eyes.

​Lord Max instantly bowed his head, letting out a relieved breath. "Of course, Lord Leo. You may certainly try."

​I looked at Leo, a nervous laugh escaping my lips. "I might step on your toes, too, you know."

​"It is a risk I am entirely willing to take," Leo murmured, stepping across the polished floor toward me.

​He stopped a breath away, bowing low with exaggerated grace as he extended his hand toward me. I hesitated for a fraction of a second before placing my fingers in his palm. Leo closed his hand over mine, his grip warm, steady, and grounding.

​In one swift, fluid motion, he twirled me under his arm and pulled me close by the waist, resting his other hand gently against the small of my back.

​My breath caught in my throat.

​The heat of his palm seared through the thin fabric of my dress. As he guided me into the opening steps of the waltz, my heart began to hammer a erratic rhythm against my ribs. I knew this was the very first time we had ever danced together like this—yet my body didn't feel tense or awkward the way it had with Lord Max.

​I couldn't deny it: Leo was a breathtakingly handsome, charming man. A sudden wave of guilt washed over me as I looked up into his sharp, handsome features. Is it improper to feel this pull toward my future husband's brother?

​Before I could dwell on the thought, Leo spun me out into a fast, dizzying turn. I missed my footing on the slick wooden floor, letting out a quiet gasp as my balance gave way completely.

​Instead of letting me hit the floor, Leo caught my waist, but the momentum pulled him down with me. We both landed in a soft heap on the polished floorboards, our skirts and coats tangling together.

​For a brief second, we stared at each other in utter shock—and then I burst into a light, ringing laugh. Leo joined in, his deep chuckle echoing off the high ceiling as he shook his head.

​"Come on," he grinned, pulling himself up and extending his hand to pull me effortlessly back to my feet. "Again."

​He spun me out once more, taking command of the rhythm. This time, I stopped overthinking. I let Leo guide my movements, swaying and gliding across the massive ballroom as if we were floating on air. A sudden, overwhelming sense of freedom washed over me—the heavy, suffocating weight of the impending wedding lifting from my chest for one brief, brilliant moment.

​"See?" Leo whispered, his face inches from mine, a triumphant smile on his lips. "You are a natural."

​Ahem.

​A loud, deliberate cough shattered the air from the balcony entrance.

​We both froze, coming to a sudden halt in the middle of the floor. Standing at the top of the short stairwell, looking down at us with a cool, unreadable expression, was Duke Arthur De Witt.

​My heart dropped into my stomach. I quickly stepped back from Leo, dropping into a low, polite curtsy. "Good day, Your Grace."

​Duke Arthur did not smile. He simply stretched out a hand, his sharp gaze locking onto his younger son. "Leo. I need to speak with you immediately."

​Without waiting for an answer, the Duke turned on his heel and strode down the corridor, his heavy footsteps echoing into the distance.

​Leo sighed, a subtle shift of tension darkening his features as he lowered his hand. "Duty calls." He offered me a soft, reassuring look. "You did wonderful, Eva."

​"Thank you, Leo," I murmured gently.

​I watched his tall figure walk away, a quiet curiosity lingering in my mind. Unlike Lucian—who spent every waking hour glued to his father's side, buried in trade business and political posturing—Leo rarely spoke to the Duke unless summoned. Yet, as I stood alone in the quiet ballroom, my hand still feeling the phantom warmth of Leo's grip, I couldn't stop the soft smile from touching my lips.

Genevieve’s POV

​I carried the bundle of fresh white roses through the dimly lit service corridor, still humming the tune of a ballroom waltz. I had just come from Mrs. Gables’ office after finalizing the floral arrangements for tomorrow’s grand ceremony.

​As I passed a small, dark storage alcove, a hand suddenly shot out from the shadows.

​Before I could scream, a heavy grip pulled me roughly inside the broom closet. The door slammed shut with a sharp click, the lock turning instantly.

​"What in the—"

​A match flared to life, illuminating a harsh, pale face.

​I gasped, stepping back against a row of wooden shelves. "Laura!"

​"I see you have become quite cozy with Eva," Laura whispered sneeringly, holding the small candle wick up between us. "Taking morning tea, sharing laughs... becoming best friends, are we?"

​I straightened my posture, folding my arms across my chest with cold disdain. "Are you spying on me now? That is certainly not part of your duties, maid."

​"I do not care who you waste your time being friends with," Laura spat softly, her dark eyes flashing with anger. "You could be friends with our worst enemy for all I care."

​"She is not as bad as we thought, Laura," I sighed, waving my hand dismissively. "It is fine. Just let her get married to Lucian."

​"No!" Laura’s voice rose into a fierce, harsh hiss. "She cannot! She cannot marry Lord Lucian! She is in no position to take what belonged to you! Do you not see that?"

​I frowned, studying her agitated, breathless face in the candlelight. A strange knot of suspicion tightened in my stomach. "Why are you so bothered about this anyway? Shouldn't you be thrilled if she becomes Lucian's wife? With Eva moving up to Duchess, you become the favorite maid in the house again. Isn't that why you joined forces with me to take her down in the first place? So you could regain your precious standing?"

​Laura let out a bitter, mocking laugh. "You have absolutely no idea what you are saying, Genevieve."

​My jaw tightened. "It is Lady Genevieve to you, Laura. You are simply a maid—know your place. It seems our recent interactions have gotten entirely to your head."

​Laura stepped closer, the candlelight casting long, terrifying shadows across her face. "Is that so, Lady Genevieve? Because as far as I am concerned, you will do exactly as I say. If you do not stop playing sisters with Eva and help me construct a plan to drive her out of this house and stop this wedding immediately... I will go straight to Lord Lucian."

​I narrowed my eyes. "And tell him what?"

​"I will tell him that you pushed Eva down those stairs," Laura whispered wickedly.

​Shock rattled through me. My heart slammed against my ribs. "You are threatening me? Me?! You know fully well you were the one who pushed her! Why would you lie like that? What on earth do you have to gain?!"

​"Either she leaves this house," Laura growled, her voice dropping into a deadly, unyielding threat, "or you both leave this house. The choice is yours, my lady."

​Without waiting for an answer, Laura unlocked the door, blew out the candle, and slipped out into the corridor, leaving me trapped in the pitch-black closet.

​I stood frozen in the dark, my chest heaving as terror turned into sharp, burning curiosity.

​What exactly does this girl want? I thought frantically, my mind spinning. Why is a simple maid so dangerously obsessed with destroying Eva?

​I pressed my back against the wooden door, my decision made. I had to find out what Laura was truly hiding before she destroyed us all.