Jonathan knew better than to test Theodore’s temper, not on a morning like this one.
"Please, sir, there’s no need to worry." He kept his voice even, almost soothing. "We invited you here today so we could settle things properly between the two children. All we ask is a little patience."
Solomon stood close beside his grandfather, his own voice carrying none of the old man’s fire but all of its conviction. "When Cari comes out, we’ll hear her side first. This isn’t something the Warren family gets to decide on its own."
"Whatever else is true," Theodore snapped, "Cari stayed loyal to that boy for a full year while he was off fighting a war. She served his parents with her own hands, treated every relative in this house with respect, and ran this household when no one else could. He has no right to treat her like this. None at all."
"Please, sir, calm yourself." Adrian kept his tone level, though something in his chest tightened at the accusation. "We’ll speak once everyone has arrived."
He hadn’t dared invite any of the neighboring families to witness this. Valor Estate sat surrounded by the homes of other ranked officials, and having them watch this unfold could easily cost him more standing than the divorce itself. He’d briefly considered bringing in someone from the pack registry to stamp the papers on the spot, but in the end he decided he’d deliver everything to the office himself once it was done, keeping the number of witnesses as small as he could manage.
The family elders still had to be present, though, whatever the risk. Adrian’s grandmother had passed years ago, but Beatrice, his grandfather’s second mate, remained, and tradition demanded her presence for something this significant.
Her side of the family hadn’t produced anyone particularly distinguished in recent memory. One relative had entered civil service and landed a modest post, not unlike Jonathan or Benjamin, nothing worth much mention. The two branches had drifted along separately within Valor Estate for years, crossing paths only during festivals or occasions like this one.
When Beatrice arrived and learned what Adrian intended, her first thought was that he’d chosen the worst possible moment to end his own career. But the reasoning behind it settled into place quickly enough once she considered it. The Sinclair line had crumbled to almost nothing. Whatever glory the Northwatch name once carried, there was no one left to carry it forward.
Aurora, meanwhile, stood as the first female commander this generation had seen, favored openly by both the Alpha and Luna herself. Even without another victory to her name, her rise seemed inevitable at this point, and Luna would want a woman like her held up as an example to every she-wolf watching. With Aurora at his side, Adrian’s future only climbed higher. Cassandra, by contrast, offered him nothing left to build on. The Sinclair name could no longer open doors for anyone.
Still, none of that fully explained why divorce was necessary, unless Aurora simply refused to share her position with another woman. If that was the truth of it, then a choice had always been coming.
Beatrice had heard the whispers about Cassandra’s jealousy before she’d even walked through the gate, and on those grounds alone, a divorce could be justified easily enough in most eyes. But she had also watched, with her own eyes, how devoted Cassandra had been to Rebecca all year. That kind of care didn’t come from a woman without heart.
As for jealousy, Beatrice couldn’t think of a single woman in Cassandra’s position who wouldn’t feel exactly the same. If every jealous wife in this territory were cast aside for it, there wouldn’t be a household left standing with both mates still under one roof. Cassandra’s outbursts these past weeks looked, to Beatrice at least, like a woman trying to hold onto some scrap of dignity in front of the woman replacing her. A little patience and understanding from Adrian might have solved all of this without a single paper ever needing to be signed.
But Beatrice was equally certain of something else. Aurora had no intention of tolerating Cassandra’s presence a moment longer than necessary. She wanted her gone before she ever set foot inside this house as a mate herself, wanted the title of Adrian’s only wife with nothing standing in the way of it. A woman built the way Aurora was built didn’t share, not comfortably, not for long.
So Beatrice said nothing at all. Silence was the safest ground to stand on when both sides had already drawn their lines.
"Why isn’t she out here yet?" Rebecca’s patience had worn thin. "Someone go and hurry her along."
A servant hurried off and returned only minutes later, though not with Cassandra. Instead, they carried a sealed letter addressed to Adrian, sent from Aurora.
Adrian assumed at first that she must be writing to beg him to reconsider the whole divorce, to spare Cassandra somehow. He let out a quiet breath. Aurora had always had a soft spot for protecting other women, even ones who never seemed to appreciate it, even Cassandra.
He stepped out into the corridor to read it in private.
The words on the page stopped him cold. He read the letter twice more just to be certain he hadn’t misunderstood something, checking the handwriting each time to confirm it was truly hers.
It was hers. There was no mistaking that. But hadn’t they already agreed, the two of them, not to touch a single coin of Cassandra’s dowry? So why was Aurora now insisting they keep half of it, wrapping her reasoning in talk of legal precedent and warnings about how the Warren name would look if they gave everything back?
The letter framed it as an act of mercy, pointing out that most families in their position wouldn’t return so much as a single coin. Half, she argued, was already generous by comparison.
But Adrian had built his whole sense of himself on being a man other people could respect. Keeping his ex wife’s dowry, even half of it, felt like something that would follow him for the rest of his life if word ever got out. It would undo everything he’d just tried to protect by refusing it in the first place.
He was still standing there, turning the letter over in his mind, when he realized Cassandra had appeared in front of him without a sound. The shock of it made him flinch hard enough that the letter slipped straight from his fingers.
Her eyes flicked toward the paper on the ground.
"Don’t look at that." His voice came out sharper than he intended, almost panicked. He dropped to snatch it up before she could read a single line and shoved it deep into his sleeve, his heart still hammering from the surprise of her sudden, silent arrival.