CHAPTER 7: THE MAP OF THIEVES

Eva’s POV

The door to Lord Lucian’s private study opened with a quiet click.

Holding a wooden tray stacked with polish, soft rags, and a feather duster, I stepped inside. The room was bright and quiet, smelling of old leather, wood polish, and clean air. It was dominated by a massive mahogany desk, floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, and framed maps of the northern provinces.

Keep it simple, I told myself, setting my tray on a side table. Just clean and keep your eyes open.

I started by dusting the high bookshelves near the window, keeping one ear turned toward the hall. After the chaotic morning with Lord Leo in the gallery, the West Wing was completely still.

Moving toward the center of the room, my duster swept along the edge of the mahogany desk.

That was when my eyes caught the wax seal on a stack of parchment left beside an inkwell.

A red seal showing a serpent coiled around a dagger.

The Sterling family crest.

I froze.

I looked back over my shoulder at the closed door.

Silence.

I set the duster down and leaned over the desk.

Spread out across the blotter were property ledgers, tax records, and boundary maps sent from the Sterling estate. My eyes skimmed the top line: Dowry Verification & Estate Audit for Lady Genevieve Sterling.

It made sense. Because Lucian was preparing to marry Genevieve, House De Witt’s legal stewards were auditing the Sterling family's wealth and land holdings before signing the final betrothal contract.

I turned the page—and stopped.

Tucked beneath the new Sterling ledgers was a much older, yellowed piece of heavy parchment with frayed edges. It bore two seals side by side: the Sterling serpent and the double-headed falcon of House De Witt.

It was the Joint Boundary and Commerce Treaty, signed eleven years ago by Duke De Witt and Duke Sterling.

I pulled the old map into the light. Marked clearly in dark blue ink were the original borders of the northern province. The timber forests, the valleys, the stone quarries—all of it was listed under my father’s name.

Everything clicked into place in an instant.

My father's estate had shared a direct border with House De Witt. When the Sterlings killed my father and stole our land, they couldn't destroy every record in existence—because House De Witt had kept the co-signed border treaties in their own archives to protect their trade routes.

And here it was.

On the left was the new, forged deed sent by the Sterlings for Genevieve’s dowry, claiming the northern lands had always been theirs. On the right was House De Witt’s original map from eleven years ago, proving the Sterlings had stolen every mile of it.

I stared at the pages, a cold wave of clarity settling over me.

The key to ruining the Sterlings wasn't in the capital courts.

It was sitting right here on this desk.

If I could get these documents out of the estate and leak the difference between the two ledgers to the Royal Council, the Sterlings would face total public ruin for fraud.

Then a sudden, uncomfortable realization hit me.

I looked around the quiet, orderly study. I thought of Lady Eleanor’s soft tone when she spoke to the staff, and Leo’s loud, ridiculous laugh when we were sitting drenched on the gallery floor.

If I leaked these documents, House De Witt’s official seal would be right in the middle of the scandal. It would look as though the De Witts had deliberately set a trap to publicly destroy their own future in-laws.

They’ve been decent to you, a quiet voice reminded me.

I closed my eyes for a second, forcing my focus back.

It doesn't matter.

The Sterlings had destroyed my family. If the De Witts got caught in the crossfire...

That is just how it has to be.

I reached out, taking the old boundary map to slide it into my apron pocket.

Click.

The door handle turned.

My heart dropped into my stomach.

I shoved the paper back onto the desk, snapping my hands behind my back as the oak door swung open.

Lord Lucian walked in.

He had taken off his riding jacket, wearing just a white shirt and dark waistcoat. He stopped in his tracks, his dark eyes instantly locking onto me.

He looked at my face, then down at the desk—straight at the scattered Sterling papers and the old treaty exposed right in front of me.

The silence in the room stretched razor-thin.

Lucian closed the door behind him with a quiet click. He took a step forward, his eyes narrowing as his expression became unreadable.

“Eva,” Lucian said smoothly, his voice low and steady. “What are you doing at my desk?”

I swallowed down the lump in my throat, keeping my posture stiff and my hands firmly behind my back.

“I was... dusting the mahogany, My Lord,” I said, forcing my voice to sound as quiet and even as possible. “The inkstand was covered in ash, and I was moving the parchments to wipe beneath them.”

Lucian didn't move. He stood just a few feet away, his dark gaze cutting right through the excuse.

“Moving them?” he asked, taking another slow step toward me. His tone wasn't loud, but the quiet authority in it made the air in the room feel heavy. “You were holding an official treaty. A document that has nothing to do with dust or ink.”

“I only intended to keep them dry, My Lord,” I said, dropping my gaze to the floor near his boots. “I did not mean to touch anything of importance.”

“You are a maid, Eva,” Lucian said coldly, his voice sharpening into a strict, distant edge that wiped away any trace of the strange tension we had shared in the library. “Your duty is to clean the floors and wipe the furniture. It is not to pry into private estate documents, nor is it to linger around my personal desk.”

He reached out, his long fingers casually straightening the yellowed boundary treaty on the blotter, keeping his eyes locked on me the entire time.

“Mrs. Gable may have praised your literacy,” he continued, a cold threat underlying every word. “But do not let it make you foolish. Forget your place in this house again, and I will personally see to it that you are dismissed before sunset. Do you understand me?”

The harshness of his tone stung, but beneath the fear, my mind was already racing.

He hadn't noticed the discrepancy.

He didn't know I knew what those papers meant.

“I understand, My Lord,” I whispered, dipping into a low, hasty curtsy. “I am deeply sorry. It will not happen again.”

“Leave,” he commanded flatly, turning his back to me as he picked up a quill.

I didn't wait for him to repeat himself. I grabbed my wooden tray, turned on my heel, and practically fled the study, the heavy oak door shutting behind me with a sharp, decisive snap.

Leaning my back against the cold stone wall of the empty corridor, my heart hammered wildly against my ribs. I closed my eyes, taking a long, shaky breath.

Lucian thought he had just put a curious maid back in her place.

He had no idea he had just confirmed everything I needed to know.