บททั้งหมดของ The Alpha's Bargain: บทที่ 51 - บทที่ 60

Catherine -I discovered the library by accident, though in this castle I was beginning to suspect nothing happened entirely by chance. I'd been exploring the west wing—staying carefully within the boundaries that had been set for me while testing their exact parameters—when a door I hadn't noticed before caught my attention.Unlike the heavy oak and iron fixtures that dominated most of the castle, this door was carved from what looked like a single piece of pale wood, its surface decorated with intricate patterns that seemed to shift when I wasn't looking directly at them. No lock, no forbidding symbols, just an invitation disguised as architecture.Too easy, my suspicious mind warned. Nothing in this place is without purpose.But curiosity had always been my weakness, and three days of careful captivity had left me starving for something—anything—that might provide answers to the questions multiplying in my head like weeds after rain.

After Mary left, I remained in the chair for a long time, the book of myths forgotten in my lap as I processed our conversation. There had been layers beneath her words—offers of friendship, warnings about the complexities I was only beginning to understand, and something that felt almost like hope.She wants me to succeed here, I realized. Whatever success means in this place.The afternoon light was beginning to fade, casting the stained glass windows in deeper hues that made the entire library feel like the inside of a jewel. I should return to my chambers, should maintain the careful schedule that kept me safely within established boundaries.Instead, I found myself drawn deeper into the library's maze of shelves, following an instinct I couldn't name toward sections I hadn't yet explored.The books grew older as I moved toward the back of the room, their bindings more fragile, their subjects increasingly esoteric. Here were volumes

"The dinner invitation," Lucas said, bringing us back to the original problem with the persistence of someone who understood that avoidance never solved anything. "What's really stopping you from simply asking?"What's stopping me? The answer was complex, layered with forty years of isolation and twenty-seven years of careful control over every aspect of my existence. I'd grown accustomed to commanding rather than requesting, to having my wishes anticipated rather than having to voice them.And you're terrified she'll say no, my conscience supplied with uncomfortable accuracy.Because that was the truth beneath all the careful rationalizations. I was afraid that Catherine would refuse, that she would choose the safety of distance over the risk of proximity. That she would see through whatever careful courtesy I managed to construct and recognize it for what it was—the desperate maneuvering of a man who wanted far more than he had any right to a

Catherine -The kitchen was everything the formal dining rooms were not—warm, cluttered, alive with the kind of comfortable chaos that spoke of actual use rather than ceremonial display. Steam rose from pots that bubbled on the great hearth, the air thick with scents of rosemary and roasting meat that made my mouth water despite the complicated emotions churning in my stomach.I'd refused Lord MacAllister's dinner invitation three hours ago, and the satisfaction I'd felt at that small act of defiance was still glowing in my chest like a banked coal.Let him dine alone in his grand hall, I thought with perhaps more spite than dignity warranted. Let him understand that courtesy requires more than beautiful prison cells and carefully worded requests."Miss Catherine!" Mary looked up from the bread she was kneading, flour dusting her capable hands and a warm smile creasing her weathered face. "What brings you to my domain?"Your d

"Tell me about the winters here," I said, genuinely curious about what life looked like during the months when isolation would be even more complete. "Do you ever feel... trapped?"Mary's hands stilled on her teacup. "Trapped isn't the word I'd use. Remote, certainly. But there's beauty in that remoteness, peace in knowing the world's troubles can't reach you easily."Can't reach you. Or perhaps won't let you reach them. The distinction felt important, though I couldn't articulate why.Jamie shifted on his bench, suddenly uncomfortable with the direction of our conversation. "The work doesn't stop for weather," he said. "Horses still need tending, fires still need wood. Keeps you busy enough that you don't think much about what's beyond the boundaries."Don't think about what's beyond the boundaries. A survival strategy, perhaps, or simply the natural adaptation of people who'd learned to find contentment within prescribed limit