"This is El, isn't it?"
"Yes, my lady. You may call me Elmis." The maid with jet-black hair bowed low. "I should have been there—like Julia. I'm sorry. With Julia injured, you need someone to attend you. From now on, I'll remain by your side."
"Everyone thought that killer was dead." Marin's voice softened. "It's not your fault, El."
Gerald's jaw tightened almost imperceptibly.
The assassin had been nearly lifeless. Vigilance had relaxed. Who could have known that with his final breath, he would hurl a dagger?
"No." Elmis's voice was steady, accepting no absolution. "His Grace gave me another chance. I will do everything in my power to be worthy of it."
Marin glanced at the Duke—silent, unreadable—then turned back to Elmis.
"How will you manage as a maid?"
"We Shadows can become whatever is required. I completed my maid training long ago."
"I see." Marin nodded, still processing this new arrangement. "Thank you."
"What will you need?"
"Oh—could you bring a book of fairy tales?"
"Yes, my lady. Since His Lordship is nearby, I'll be quick."
"All right."
Elmis slipped into Marin's room and returned moments later, moving with such silence that her footsteps made no sound at all.
*A Shadow indeed.*
"I've brought it."
"Thank you."
Elmis bowed, then took her position at the door to Julia's room.
"I'll stand here until you come out."
Marin opened her mouth to protest—then decided to respect the woman's professionalism.
"All right. Thank you."
She pushed open Julia's door and stepped inside. The Duke followed.
"Are you really going to follow me everywhere?"
"If you're in a safe place, no."
"And where exactly is this 'safe place' of yours?"
"Beside me."
"So you *are* going to follow me everywhere!"
"Aren't you going to read?"
He changed the subject with practiced ease.
Marin decided to save the argument for later. She crossed to Julia's bedside, book in hand.
"Julia, I'll read to you."
"It's really all right, my lady..."
Julia's refusal was shy, almost embarrassed—as though the honor were too great for someone like her.
"Patients are supposed to lie still. Just listen."
"Yes, my lady."
A small, genuine smile touched Julia's lips—happiness breaking through the pain.
Marin began to read, silently praying that Julia would drift into sleep without suffering.
---
## — The Road to the Capital —
They rested for several more days at a comfortable inn before continuing their journey.
To allow Julia to travel lying down, they purchased an additional small carriage and converted it into an improvised bed on wheels.
Fortunately, no further attacks came.
The rutted dirt road gradually gave way to smooth, well-maintained cobblestones. Rows of shops lined both sides of the wide thoroughfare, their colorful awnings bright against the pale winter sky.
Marin could feel passersby stopping to watch the procession pass. She wanted to believe they recognized the Duke of Vines's banner—but their gazes were fixed firmly on the diamond carriage itself.
"We've finally reached the capital."
Daya set her embroidery frame on her lap and gazed out the window.
"Have you been here before, Daya?"
Marin tried her best to ignore the astonished stares.
"Yes. With my parents."
The corners of Daya's mouth twitched—a sad, distant smile.
"I see."
Marin lowered her eyes, hiding her sympathy.
"There's a wonderful dessert shop nearby." Daya's voice deliberately turned brighter. "Shall we go together sometime?"
"Delicious desserts?" Marin's face lit up. "We're *definitely* going!"
"Yes!"
They exchanged joyful smiles—a moment of lightness amid everything else.
The carriage rolled on through the capital's streets for some time before finally coming to a halt.
"We've arrived." Olive knocked on the diamond carriage door.
"Very well."
Elmis, who had been sitting so unobtrusively near the door that Marin had nearly forgotten her presence, stepped out first to survey the surroundings.
The Duke offered his hand.
Marin descended from the carriage, looked up at the building before her—and her mouth fell open.
Since the mansion was close to the palace, she'd expected a modest townhouse. Something compact and practical.
Her expectations were thoroughly shattered.
Compared to the ducal castle in the West, this residence was more restrained—but it was still a *four-story mansion*, elegant and imposing.
"Welcome back, Your Grace. Lady Marin Shuvents, daughter of the Viscount. Lady Daya Adria, daughter of the Count."
A middle-aged man—clearly the butler—bowed deeply. Dozens of servants stood in precise formation behind him, greeting them in unison.
Marin, still holding the Duke's arm, walked past the assembled staff and into the building.
Inside, a lobby opened up—white-carpeted, elegantly appointed, bathed in soft afternoon light.
She noticed Olive approach the butler and speak quietly to him.
"Butler Kanolam, please have dinner served simply, in the rooms."
Standing side by side, the two men looked remarkably similar: the same soft dark brown curls, the same warm brown eyes.
As though sensing her gaze, the butler approached Marin and bowed.
"I have the honor of introducing myself. I am Kanolam Lyon, manager of the capital residence."
"Hello."
*Lyon.* So Olive's father managed the Duke's household here.
"Please, my lady—speak freely with me."
He smiled softly—exactly like his son.
"I will. Thank you."
"Then allow me to show you to your rooms."
"I'll escort Lady Daya," Olive said.
"Very well."
Following the butler's lead, they ascended to the fourth floor. Olive and Daya turned down a corridor on the third.
The fourth floor, Marin noticed, contained only two rooms.
The butler gestured to one of the doors.
"This will be yours, my lady."
"Thank you."
"Please rest well."
He bowed politely and descended the stairs.
"Rest," the Duke said—still holding her hand, though she hadn't quite noticed when he'd taken it.
"Yes. You rest well too, Lord Gerald."
Marin was already pushing her door open when she froze.
The Duke was opening the door *directly beside hers*.
"Ah?"
"What?" His expression was perfectly innocent.
"N-nothing."
Pretending everything was completely normal, Marin stepped into her room and closed the door behind her.
---
The room was decorated in soft violet tones—cozy, elegant, and surprisingly spacious.
The bed alone could easily accommodate three people.
And beside it, she noticed something unexpected.
Another door.
"I wonder what's behind that..."
She approached it—and at that precise moment, a quiet knock sounded from the other side.
Marin jumped.
"Yes? Who's there?"
"Groom."
She stared at the door, eyes wide.
*This connects to the Duke's room?*
"It... just opens?"
"If you allow it."
"Then I *don't* allow it."
She breathed a sigh of relief—and answered perhaps a bit too quickly.
"As you say."
There was unmistakable amusement in his voice.
Marin pressed her burning cheek against the cool wood of the door.
"Why does this door even exist?"
"From time immemorial, these have been the chambers of the Duke and Duchess."
"Ah..."
Now everything made sense.
These were the *marital chambers*. The Duke's private rooms—and the Duchess's—connected for... obvious reasons.
*So the Duke comes here at night...*
Marin fanned her flushed face with her palm, trying desperately to calm her hammering heart.
"What are you thinking about?"