## The Whispers
The maids' voices drifted down the hallway as I walked past, unnoticed in my dark gown.
"Why does the Lord keep her here if he didn't want this marriage?"
"Vermont blood. A burden for any man."
"At least if he sends her to a monastery, she won't embarrass him anymore."
I pressed both hands to my belly protectively.
*Please don't hear them. Please don't understand. Not yet.*
But Hannah heard. I watched her face darken, her fists clench, before she stepped forward with raw fury.
"Enough!"
The maids scattered like startled birds, leaving only Hannah's fierce expression and my own trembling silence.
"I'm not taking walks anymore," I said quietly. "It's too messy with the water banquet preparations."
Hannah squeezed my hand. "Rumors like that disappear. It was just an accident."
*An accident.* Yes. Everything was an accident.
---
## The Breaking Point
In my room, Madame Marcel waited with a magnificent dress—layers of quilted white fabric designed for the cold lake air.
"His Majesty and Princess Bianque will attend the banquet," she explained carefully. "The Duchess should dress appropriately."
I couldn't bear it. Couldn't bear the heaviness of the fabric, the cheerfulness of the occasion, the pretense that everything was fine.
"I don't want it. Something lighter. Lace. I'll wear a cloak."
Madame Marcel's shoulders fell as servants carried away her elaborate creation.
Once alone with Hannah, I let the truth spill out.
"I overheard Kaian talking to Valquiterre. He said..." My voice broke. "He said a child with Vermont blood should never be born in Temnes."
Hannah's face went pale.
"He was talking about rejecting the baby," I continued numbly. "About how impossible it is. How the blood would be... dirty."
"That's ridiculous," Hannah started, but the conviction had drained from her voice. After the Burbrook incident, even she couldn't pretend Kaian was entirely kind.
"What kind of life will this child have?" I whispered. "If Kaian won't accept it, if I'm sent to a monastery, if the baby grows up knowing its own father rejected it before it was even born..."
Hannah gripped my hand fiercely. "I'll protect you. Both of you. I'll run away with you if I have to."
But her promise couldn't reach the hollow place in my heart.
I was beyond sadness. Beyond sorrow. My emotions had dried up completely, leaving only a single, crystalline determination:
*I will protect this baby. No matter what.*
---
## The Return
The water banquet was in full chaos. Nobles everywhere, servants running with food and drink, music drifting across the lake. The castle had never been more alive with celebration.
And in that perfect moment, a figure moved through the crowd unseen.
A woman in dusty traveler's clothes, hood pulled low, scarf hiding her face. She moved with purpose toward the food vendors, obtained provisions, then slipped away from the crowds toward the isolated stretch of shoreline.
Once alone, she ate quickly, mechanically—as though sustenance was a necessity rather than pleasure. Her hands, weathered and strong, trembled slightly as she touched something hidden beneath her loose robe.
A long, wrapped object lay against her ribs. A sword.
Madame Cronac—though no one here knew that name, that face, that burning purpose—stared at Rowen Castle glittering in the distance.
The fortress where her daughter suffered. Where the man who'd ordered her village burned remained blissfully ignorant of his own danger.
She whispered the words like a prayer, like a curse:
"The day has finally come. I return the blade to my enemy."
Her hand rested on the concealed weapon, and in that moment, everyone in Rowen Castle was in danger—though they didn't yet know it.
---