Cassian Ashford had already made the mistake of noticing Marian Valmont.
Unfortunately, the mistake appeared to be repeating itself.
The realization annoyed him.
Deeply.
Because he was not a man who became interested in people easily.
Especially not women.
And especially not Adrian’s fiancée.
Yet somehow, over the past week, his gaze kept finding her.
Not intentionally.
At least, that was what he told himself.
The explanation sounded increasingly unconvincing.
The Imperial Winter Conservatory was warm despite the season.
Glass ceilings allowed sunlight to pour through the vast structure.
Rare flowers bloomed everywhere.
Nobles wandered through the pathways.
Musicians performed softly.
And Marian Valmont was currently arguing with the Crown Prince.
Again.
Cassian watched from across the conservatory.
Entirely by accident.
Mostly.
"The flowers are beautiful."
"They are."
"The pastries are excellent."
"They are."
Marian narrowed her eyes.
Cassian could not hear Adrian’s next response.
He didn’t need to.
The expression on Marian’s face said enough.
A moment later she snatched something from Adrian’s hands.
A report, apparently.
The Crown Prince looked resigned.
Marian looked victorious.
Cassian found himself smiling.
Immediately regretted it.
What exactly was amusing about that?
Nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
Yet somehow the scene felt strangely familiar.
Not because he had witnessed it before.
Because it looked practiced.
The easy rhythm of two people who had known each other for years.
The comfort.
The familiarity.
The complete lack of formality.
Interesting.
Cassian had spent most of his life surrounded by noble couples.
Most looked exhausting.
Adrian and Marian somehow looked effortless.
An irritating observation.
Several minutes later, officials arrived.
Naturally.
Like vultures sensing weakness.
The moment they spotted the Crown Prince, their attack began.
Reports appeared.
Questions followed.
Responsibilities multiplied.
Adrian was doomed.
Marian watched the process with visible sympathy.
Then immediately abandoned him.
A sensible woman.
Cassian almost laughed.
The future Crown Princess looked entirely untroubled by leaving her fiancé to suffer.
Clearly this happened often.
Time passed.
The conservatory grew busier.
Guests drifted between displays.
Conversations rose and fell.
And eventually, quite some time later, Cassian noticed Adrian again.
The Crown Prince stood near one of the educational exhibits.
Speaking with Elena Hart.
The discussion appeared serious.
Professional.
Harmless.
Yet Cassian found himself watching.
Not because of Elena.
Because of Adrian.
The Crown Prince looked relaxed.
Comfortable.
Interested.
The same way he looked while discussing military strategy.
Or state affairs.
Or any topic he genuinely enjoyed.
Elena was speaking animatedly about something.
Her hands moving as she explained.
Adrian listened carefully.
Then asked a question.
Elena answered.
The conversation continued naturally.
Effortlessly.
Cassian frowned.
A strange feeling settled in his chest.
Not suspicion.
Not concern.
Something harder to define.
Because there was nothing inappropriate happening.
Nothing at all.
Yet he suddenly found himself wondering:
Would Marian like this?
The thought appeared unexpectedly.
Then another followed.
Had Marian even noticed?
Cassian glanced around.
Searching.
He found her several pathways away.
Admiring flowers.
Completely unconcerned.
Completely trusting.
The sight made him oddly uncomfortable.
Meanwhile, Marian was having an excellent afternoon.
Adrian had been captured by bureaucrats.
The flowers were beautiful.
The pastries remained available.
Life was good.
Then she sneezed.
Marian froze.
A second sneeze followed.
Then a third.
The flowers looked innocent.
She did not trust them.
"Traitors."
The rose bushes remained suspiciously silent.
Marian narrowed her eyes.
Clearly a conspiracy.
The entire conservatory was involved.
Then she heard it.
A laugh.
Quiet.
Brief.
Male.
Marian turned instinctively.
And immediately wished she hadn’t.
Because she recognized him.
Duke Cassian Ashford.
Of course.
Of all people.
The second male lead.
The realization appeared instantly.
Not because she was thinking about the novel recently.
Well.
Perhaps a little.
The man was difficult to forget.
Half the readers of the original novel had adored him.
The other half had argued about him endlessly.
Marian had always found the debates ridiculous.
Now she found herself staring.
Only briefly.
Because unfortunately, the man was exactly as handsome as everyone claimed.
Dark hair.
Gray eyes.
Broad shoulders.
Sharp features.
Unfairly attractive.
The novel had not exaggerated.
Not even slightly.
And apparently he had just witnessed her arguing with flowers.
Wonderful.
Absolutely wonderful.
For one terrible moment, their eyes met.
Then she sneezed again.
A complete disaster.
Heat rushed into her cheeks instantly.
Embarrassment.
Pure embarrassment.
Nothing more.
Well.
Mostly nothing more.
The problem wasn’t Cassian himself.
The problem was that if one absolutely had to make a fool of oneself, doing so in front of Duke Cassian Ashford felt significantly worse than doing so in front of ordinary people.
The man had a reputation.
An enormous one.
And she had just accused roses of treason.
An excellent first impression.
Truly.
For a brief second, she thought she saw amusement flicker across his face.
Then he looked away.
The moment ended.
Just like that.
Marian stared at the flowers.
Then sighed dramatically.
"Look what you’ve done."
The flowers remained unapologetic.
As expected.
Cassian continued walking.
At least, that was what his feet were doing.
His thoughts were less cooperative.
Because several minutes later, he found himself remembering something ridiculous.
Not the flowers.
Not the sneezing.
Certainly not the accusation of treason.
The blush.
The realization annoyed him immediately.
Because it made no sense.
He had seen countless women blush.
Most intentionally.
Some strategically.
A few professionally.
Yet somehow Marian’s embarrassment lingered.
Perhaps because it had been genuine.
Unplanned.
Entirely human.
For one brief moment, the Empire’s greatest beauty had stopped looking untouchable.
And started looking like a woman.
A surprisingly dangerous distinction.
Cassian disliked the thought.
Then found himself thinking it again.
Which was significantly worse.
Meanwhile, Marian remembered the encounter for approximately ten seconds.
Just long enough to climb into her carriage.
Just long enough to think:
Of course it had to be him.
Then she groaned.
Because now, if she ever saw Duke Cassian Ashford again, she would remember that he had witnessed her declaring war on flowers.
A tragedy.
A genuine tragedy.
Then she remembered Adrian was waiting for her at dinner.
And immediately forgot about Cassian altogether.
Unfortunately for everyone involved—
Cassian Ashford did not seem quite as capable of forgetting.