The first person to notice was not Marian.
It was Lady Beatrice Evermore.
Which was unfortunate.
Because Lady Beatrice noticed everything.
And spoke about most of it.
"Interesting."
Marian immediately regretted sitting beside her.
The older noblewoman was examining the ballroom through a jeweled fan.
The expression on her face was deeply suspicious.
"What is?"
Lady Beatrice smiled.
"A pattern."
Marian hated that answer.
Mostly because it never led anywhere pleasant.
The Autumn Court Reception occupied one of the Imperial Palace’s grandest halls.
Music drifted through the room.
Nobles mingled.
Politicians plotted.
The usual.
Marian had arrived nearly an hour ago.
Long enough to become bored.
Not long enough to leave.
A tragedy.
"What pattern?"
Lady Beatrice tapped her fan against her wrist.
"The Crown Prince."
Marian immediately relaxed.
"Oh."
Because obviously.
What else would people talk about?
Adrian was handsome.
Powerful.
Future Emperor.
People discussed him constantly.
Nothing new there.
"What about him?"
The older woman tilted her head.
Then pointed subtly across the ballroom.
Marian followed her gaze.
Adrian stood speaking with several officials.
And Elena.
There she was again.
The heroine.
These days she seemed to appear everywhere.
Not intentionally.
Just naturally.
Like sunshine.
Or taxes.
Neither could be avoided.
"They’re discussing policy."
Marian looked confused.
"Yes?"
Lady Beatrice stared at her.
Then laughed.
"Oh, you truly don’t see it."
Marian frowned.
See what?
The older woman didn’t elaborate.
Instead she simply smiled.
Which was significantly worse.
Later that evening, Marian found Elena near one of the refreshment tables.
The healer looked relieved.
A familiar expression.
Court events exhausted her.
Marian understood completely.
Finally.
A shared interest.
"Escaping?"
Elena jumped slightly.
Then laughed.
"A little."
"Excellent choice."
"You say that every time."
"Because I’m always correct."
Elena shook her head.
Smiling.
The two women settled near one of the quieter balconies.
Far from politics.
Far from responsibilities.
Far from disaster.
Ideally.
"I still don’t understand how you survive these events."
Elena looked genuinely curious.
Marian looked equally confused.
"Survive?"
"Everyone watches you."
Ah.
That.
Marian shrugged.
"You get used to it."
"I don’t think I could."
"You could."
"No."
"Probably not."
Elena laughed.
The sound came easier these days.
Court life had changed her.
Not dramatically.
Just enough.
More confident.
More comfortable.
More certain.
The capital suited her surprisingly well.
Which was both impressive and mildly irritating.
"Honestly," Elena admitted, "I still feel like I don’t belong."
Marian blinked.
Then frowned.
A real frown.
Not a playful one.
"That’s ridiculous."
Elena looked surprised.
"You belong wherever you decide to stand."
The words escaped naturally.
Simple.
Certain.
Because Marian genuinely believed them.
Elena stared for a moment.
Then smiled softly.
"Thank you."
The reaction felt oddly satisfying.
Like helping a younger sister.
A strange thought.
Yet not an unpleasant one.
Across the ballroom, Adrian noticed them.
Without meaning to.
Without thinking.
His gaze drifted toward the balcony.
Toward Marian.
Toward Elena.
The two women appeared deep in conversation.
Laughing.
Comfortable together.
The sight made him smile.
Then pause.
Because the feeling surprised him.
Why was he smiling?
The answer arrived immediately.
Because both of them looked happy.
Simple.
Reasonable.
Nothing more.
Still.
His eyes lingered.
A second longer than necessary.
Then he forced himself to look away.
Unfortunately, somebody noticed.
"Interesting."
Adrian immediately regretted turning around.
His cousin stood nearby.
Duke Cassian Ashford.
The Empire’s most notorious bachelor.
The Empire’s most handsome man.
And one of the Empire’s greatest nuisances.
Cassian followed Adrian’s gaze.
Toward the balcony.
Toward Marian.
Toward Elena.
Then smiled.
A slow.
Dangerous smile.
One Adrian recognized immediately.
And disliked.
"What?"
Cassian laughed.
"Nothing."
A lie.
Obviously.
"What."
"You’ve been looking over there for several minutes."
"I have not."
"You have."
Cassian took a sip of wine.
Entirely too pleased with himself.
Adrian suddenly remembered why he rarely enjoyed family gatherings.
"I was looking at Marian."
The answer came instantly.
Naturally.
Truthfully.
Cassian raised an eyebrow.
"Oh?"
"I was."
"Of course."
The smile remained.
Which was annoying.
Because Adrian suddenly felt defensive.
And had absolutely no reason to feel defensive.
None whatsoever.
Meanwhile, Marian remained blissfully unaware.
A wonderful state.
One she intended to maintain.
The reception ended.
The guests departed.
The music faded.
Life continued.
As expected.
Yet later that night, another conversation occurred.
One Marian never heard.
"You’re playing with fire."
Adrian looked up.
Cassian lounged across from him.
Infuriatingly relaxed.
"As usual, I have no idea what you’re talking about."
"Sure."
The duke swirled his drink lazily.
Then smiled.
"You spend a lot of time with Miss Hart."
A pause.
Tiny.
Almost invisible.
Still.
Cassian noticed.
Unfortunately.
"She’s involved in several palace initiatives."
"Naturally."
"That’s all."
"Naturally."
The repetition irritated Adrian immediately.
Which was unfortunate.
Because irritation often meant there was something worth examining.
And Adrian preferred not to examine it.
Not tonight.
Not ever.
Fortunately, the conversation ended.
Unfortunately, the thought remained.
Small.
Persistent.
Annoying.
Like a stone caught inside a boot.
And for the first time, Adrian found himself wishing people would stop mentioning Elena Hart.
A wish that would become increasingly difficult to grant.