Fiona stared at Bianca’s back for several moments. It hurt to see her like this. Bianca had always been the sort of woman who endured, who held her head high no matter what the court threw at her. She was not someone who simply gave up.
"Bee, do you understand what this means?" Fiona asked gently. "Every one of them wants you to fail. They want to see you disappear into obscurity. Are you really going to give them exactly what they want without even putting up a fight?"
Bianca’s fingers trembled in her lap.
Fight? She has lost her fight.
"The Duke treats you well," Fiona continued. "He has given you his name. He even allows you to siphon his mana. He entrusted every affair of the Duchy to you and has never questioned how you manage them. At the very least, why don’t you give all of this some thought before you decide to throw it away?"
Bianca still did not turn around.
"I have never doubted his wish to protect me, Fiona," she whispered, her voice trembling.
She couldn’t deny it.
Her life in the Valois household had been far better than the one she had left behind. Here, people respected her title. No one dared openly humiliate her, and she had been given authority and freedom that few wives in Lysaria enjoyed.
On her wedding day, when her fiancé had abandoned her at the altar because he refused to marry a glyph-less woman, Peregrine had stepped forward. He had refused to let her father, his old teacher, suffer such a humiliation.
He had rescued her family from disgrace.
But Bianca had always believed that was all she was to him: a responsibility, a promise he had made out of loyalty.
"He is a loyal man," Bianca murmured. "A responsible one. He would never simply abandon me. He would probably hurt himself before breaking his word to my father."
Fiona’s heart tightened.
"Then why?"
Bianca lowered her gaze to the floor of the carriage and remained there, listening to the steady rhythm of the horses’ hooves and feeling the gentle sway of the carriage beneath her. Fiona did not press her again. She simply waited.
After a long silence, Bianca finally spoke.
"Isolde is back, Fiona. They... they say her son looks like Peregrine."
She reached across the seat and took Bianca’s hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. She understood why that rumor would hurt, even if she didn’t believe a word of it.
"That means nothing, Bee. When have those ladies ever spoken a truthful word when they can use their forked tongues to hurt someone instead? Don’t fall into their trap." Fiona tightened her hold on Bianca’s hand. "Life at the monastery won’t be easy. You can’t throw away your entire life just to become what every one of those women wants you to become."
"Don’t give up your place."
Bianca shook her head. She knew Fiona cared for her. And in front of her friend, the tears she had been holding back finally spilled over.
"He’s never touched me, Fi..."
Fiona went still.
Bianca tried to breathe through the ache in her chest, but once the words had escaped, she could no longer hold them back.
"I’m still a virgin."
Fiona’s eyes widened.
"What?"
She immediately pulled Bianca into her arms.
All this time, Fiona had thought the rumors and the court’s cruelty were what had finally broken her friend. She had known Bianca was lonely, but she had never imagined the truth.
"Why didn’t you ever tell me?" Fiona whispered.
Bianca couldn’t answer.
She simply buried her face against Fiona’s shoulder and finally allowed herself to cry the way she never had in front of anyone else.
For three years, she had endured the whispers, the pity, and the humiliation with her head held high.
But in her friend’s arms, she no longer had the strength to pretend that it hadn’t hurt.
Fiona walked to the carriage and, after she climbed inside, held out a parchment.
"Here’s the form," she said, placing it in Bianca’s hands. "Once you obtain his signature, the enchantment will activate. Not even the Duke can go against the Temple after that."
Bianca’s fingers trembled slightly as she accepted it.
She knew the power of the Temple. Its laws stood above the authority of nobles, and even the King was bound to obey them. Once the enchantment was activated, Peregrine would have no choice but to accept her decision.
She only needed his signature.
"Bee..." Fiona reached for her hand again. "Just think about it one more time. I’m going to miss you."
Bianca nodded and pulled her into a tight embrace. Neither of them spoke for a long moment before she finally let go.
When Bianca returned to Valois House, the parchment remained tucked safely inside her sleeve.
She should have been thinking about how to obtain Peregrine’s signature.
Instead, something else kept gnawing at her.
Isolde.
More specifically, Peregrine’s Account Sigil in Isolde’s hand.
Bianca had seen the way Isolde used it. There had been no hesitation, no fumbling, not even the slightest uncertainty about how much she could spend. She had simply taken the sigil and used it as though it belonged to her.
What gave her that kind of familiarity?
Bianca had never checked Peregrine’s personal account statements, despite having access to them as his wife and Duchess of Valois. She had never felt the need to pry into his finances. Peregrine had entrusted the management of the Duchy to her without question, and she had always respected the boundaries of his personal affairs.
But now, she couldn’t stop wondering.
Bianca went to her study and sat at the desk. After a moment’s hesitation, she reached for the account records.
If Isolde had truly been using Peregrine’s personal Account Sigil, there had to be a record of it somewhere.
She opened the first statement.
Then the next.
Her eyes moved steadily across the figures, searching for anything that might explain what she had seen at the auction.
And then, she found it...
Peregrine stepped down from the carriage.
He already knew Bianca had returned to Valois House. Yet he had come back.
The Royal Auction Hall looked nothing like the elegant venue he had left earlier that day. Smoke still curled from the carpets, several paintings had been scorched black, and the air carried the sharp scent of burned fabric and magic.
Nobles streamed out through the entrance, muttering among themselves. Some looked furious, others thoroughly shaken, but every one of them fell silent when they noticed the Duke of Valois standing by the door.
Isolde was still trembling.
Genevieve spotted Peregrine first and immediately turned toward her.
"He’s here for you," she whispered.
Isolde pressed her lips together.
"Go tell him what Bianca did."
Before Isolde could protest, Genevieve took her by the arm and pulled her toward the entrance.
Meanwhile, the auctioneer hurried toward Peregrine and dropped to his knees before him.
"Your Grace..." he wailed. "It’s all ruined! Those were priceless artifacts! Some of them were centuries old!"
Peregrine looked past him.
His amber eyes swept across the wreckage, lingering on the scorched carpets and the traces of lightning magic.
The corner of his mouth twitched.
She ran away after all this?