Bianca was tired. How many more surprises could she possibly take in one day?
Yet, giving up now was not an option; not in front of Isolde.
"Lady Bianca." Isolde greeted her with a bright smile, as though they were old friends meeting after a pleasant holiday. "It’s been a while!"
Bianca returned the greeting with the smallest smile she could manage. "Long enough, it seems, for you to have forgotten that I haven’t been a mere lady for three years, Isolde."
The corner of Isolde’s lips twitched. Clearly, she hadn’t expected Bianca to call her out, but she recovered quickly, smoothing her expression into another pleasant smile.
Without so much as asking permission, she turned to the countess seated beside Bianca and gestured for her to move. The woman immediately rose, allowing Isolde to take her place.
Bianca watched in silence.
A lady seated behind them suddenly called out, "My husband talked about your son all through breakfast, Lady Isolde. He says he has the most beautiful eyes he has ever seen. Brown... almost amber, just like the Duke of Valois. How old is he now?"
Isolde laughed softly, the delicate, practiced laugh of an aristocratic woman who knew exactly how charming she was supposed to appear.
"Oh, he’ll be two this autumn."
"You must have conceived him almost immediately after your wedding," another lady said.
Someone else playfully punched Isolde on the thigh, and she responded with an embarrassed little laugh. The women around her laughed as well, and within moments, the conversation moved on to another subject.
To anyone else, it might have sounded like nothing more than harmless gossip among old friends.
Bianca knew better.
Her chest grew heavier with every breath.
Brown. Almost amber. Just like the Duke of Valois.
Bianca had heard the rumors before. She had been forced to listen to whispers that Isolde’s son might be Peregrine’s, that perhaps their relationship had never truly ended when Bianca married him. She should have grown accustomed to it by now.
She hadn’t.
And this was the first time she had been forced to sit beside Isolde and hear those insinuations spoken aloud while watching her face.
Bianca’s gaze shifted toward her.
Isolde was smiling. There wasn’t even a flicker of discomfort in her expression. Instead, she looked almost radiant.
The black lines of Ignis Weave shimmered faintly beneath her pale skin, the intricate glyph marking her bond with her powerful fire familiar. And beside her stood the dormant form of a Calamity-class familiar, its presence barely contained even while it remained silent.
Bianca’s stomach tightened.
Isolde must have reclaimed her familiar after her husband’s death.
Everything about Isolde seemed to have returned to what it had once been—the celebrated beauty of Lysaria, admired by noblemen and envied by women, a woman who possessed the kind of power and elegance that made people instinctively turn toward her.
There was no husband beside her now to diminish her freedom. No marriage to constrain her. No one left to threaten her place in society.
She was free, powerful, beautiful, and apparently, still close enough to Bianca’s husband for everyone to wonder about her child’s father.
Bianca looked away.
Maybe... The thought came unbidden. Maybe they were right.
Her fingers curled against her skirt.
Maybe the boy really is Peregrine’s. Maybe the rumors are true. And if they are...
Bianca’s throat tightened.
There had been another rumor too. One she had never allowed herself to consider for more than a heartbeat.
That Peregrine had killed Isolde’s husband.
Her breathing grew shallow.
No. She didn’t want to think about it. She didn’t want to hear another word. She didn’t want to sit here surrounded by women who smiled at her while quietly tearing pieces out of her heart.
For the first time that day, Bianca no longer cared about dignity. She simply wanted to leave.
Before she could rise, however, Isolde slipped her arm through Bianca’s and held onto her as though they were the closest of friends.
"Oh, I love those earrings!" Isolde exclaimed, admiring the diamond studs that were getting auctioned, without seeming to notice the annoyance in Bianca’s expression. Then, without warning, she raised her voice. "Three thousand ducats!"
Bianca stared at her.
The earrings had started at fifty.
Isolde looked back at her with a delighted smile. "I’ve always wanted a pair of diamond studs."
Bianca slowly freed her arm from Isolde’s grasp. Her thoughts were already elsewhere. Three thousand ducats was an outrageous amount for a pair of earrings, particularly for a widow whose husband had left her very little.
Where had Isolde suddenly acquired that kind of money?
The auctioneer struck the bell, and even his expression changed as he glanced at the amount. An attendant immediately brought over the enchanted payment slate.
Isolde didn’t hesitate.
With a bright smile that made it clear she was thoroughly enjoying her victory, she reached into her purse and pulled out a rectangular piece of polished obsidian.
Bianca’s breath caught.
For a moment, she couldn’t understand what she was seeing. Then her eyes found the gold lining etched around the edges, the amber sigil pulsing softly at its center, and finally the initials engraved into one corner.
P.A.V.
Her heart stopped.
Peregrine’s Account Sigil.
It was not the household sigil. Bianca had one of those herself, fashioned from black coral and engraved with her own name. It gave her access to the Valois household accounts and allowed her to manage the expenses entrusted to her as duchess.
But this was different.
This was Peregrine’s personal Account Sigil; the one he carried with him wherever he went. The one that granted access to his private fortune. The one he never entrusted to anyone else.
And Isolde was holding it.
The world seemed to tilt beneath Bianca’s feet.
She stared at the obsidian sigil as Isolde handed it to the attendant, unable to look away. Strangely, no tears came. She had cried too much inside herself already, until there seemed to be nothing left.
Her heart simply hurt.
How does she have it?
The question came quietly, almost numbly.
Then another followed.
Did Peregrine give it to her?
Bianca’s fingers went cold.
Had he given it to her last night?
While I had been sitting alone in the capital... did my husband spend the night with Isolde... and place his most private Account Sigil in her hands?
The thought hollowed her from the inside.
She couldn’t breathe properly. She couldn’t even feel the floor beneath her anymore.
Yet beside her, Isolde seemed completely unaware of the devastation unfolding inside Bianca.
She accepted the earrings with a pleased smile, admired them for a moment, and then turned her attention back toward the auctioneer.
"I’ve been rather taken with pearls lately," she said lightly. "When will the pearl piece be up for auction?"