Two days passed.
Marian spent most of them being angry.
It was surprisingly exhausting.
Not because anger required effort.
Because maintaining anger required consistency.
And unfortunately, Adrian kept making that difficult.
Flowers arrived every morning.
Not generic flowers.
Not thoughtless flowers.
Flowers she actually liked.
The first bouquet contained white roses.
The second contained blue hydrangeas.
The third contained lilies.
Her favorite.
The traitor.
By the third bouquet, Marian was considering violence.
Mild violence.
Reasonable violence.
The sort of violence that involved throwing flowers out a window.
Nothing excessive.
"His Highness has arrived."
Marian looked up from the sofa.
Immediately annoyed.
Not because Adrian had come.
Because her heart had reacted.
The traitor.
Again.
Honestly, at this point, her heart should be imprisoned.
Or fined.
Possibly both.
"Show him in."
The words came out perfectly calm.
Which was impressive.
Considering she was currently imagining several ways to throw him into a fountain.
Adrian entered moments later.
Looking tired.
Handsome.
Concerned.
Unfortunately.
The combination remained unfair.
The man had no right to look that good while actively ruining her life.
"You look well."
Marian stared.
Then looked toward her maid.
"Did he just tell me I look well?"
The maid immediately focused on a vase.
A wise decision.
Adrian sighed.
Which only made him more attractive.
A crime.
Frankly.
"I deserved that."
"You deserve much worse."
Progress.
At least they were being honest now.
For a brief moment, something flickered across Adrian’s face.
Relief.
Relief.
The realization annoyed Marian immediately.
"Why are you relieved?"
Adrian blinked.
"I wasn’t aware I looked relieved."
"You did."
A pause.
Then:
"You yelled at me last time."
Marian narrowed her eyes.
"And?"
"I prefer it when you’re angry."
The answer caught her off guard.
Completely.
Adrian rubbed the back of his neck.
Looking vaguely uncomfortable.
A rare sight.
"At least then I know what you’re thinking."
Silence.
Marian stared.
Then stared harder.
Because annoyingly—
That made sense.
Which was deeply inconvenient.
The conversation improved slightly after that.
Or perhaps neither of them wanted another argument.
Both explanations felt possible.
Tea arrived.
Neither drank it.
An impressive achievement.
Overall.
"I’m sorry."
The apology arrived unexpectedly.
Simple.
Direct.
No excuses.
No explanations.
Just those two words.
Marian looked down at her hands.
Because hearing them hurt more than she expected.
Not because she wanted an apology.
Because she’d wanted something else.
Something Adrian still didn’t understand.
"I know."
The answer came quietly.
Adrian’s shoulders relaxed slightly.
Mistake.
A terrible mistake.
Because suddenly Marian felt irritated again.
There it was.
That assumption.
That belief.
That confidence.
As though apologies automatically fixed things.
As though this was simply another argument.
Another misunderstanding.
Another obstacle they would overcome.
The realization sat heavily inside her chest.
Because Adrian genuinely believed that.
He truly did.
"After the Harvest Gala, things should settle down."
There it was.
The sentence.
The sentence that ruined everything.
Marian closed her eyes briefly.
Just briefly.
Because somehow she already knew what was coming next.
"The medical initiative is almost finished."
Of course.
Of course it was.
Always the initiative.
Always the project.
Always—
Marian bit the inside of her cheek.
Hard.
Because suddenly she couldn’t hear the rest.
Not really.
Only fragments.
Only pieces.
The project.
The committee.
The provinces.
The future.
And somehow every road still led to the same place.
Even when Elena wasn’t in the room.
She was there.
"...Marian?"
She blinked.
Adrian was looking at her.
Concerned.
Again.
Always concerned.
The realization no longer comforted her.
"What?"
"You disappeared."
A strange answer.
Considering Adrian had been disappearing for months.
Marian almost said it.
Almost.
Instead she smiled.
A perfect smile.
One that didn’t reach her eyes.
"I’m listening."
The lie sounded beautiful.
Years of noble training proving useful once again.
The silence that followed felt strange.
Uncomfortable.
Different.
Eventually Adrian stood.
Moving around the table.
Toward her.
A familiar movement.
One Marian had seen thousands of times.
Normally she would’ve smiled.
Normally she would’ve reached for him first.
Normally.
The word felt increasingly meaningless.
"Marian."
His voice softened.
Dangerous.
Very dangerous.
Because Adrian rarely used that tone unless he wanted something.
Or cared about something.
Or both.
She hated that it still affected her.
Then he reached for her hand.
A simple gesture.
Small.
Ordinary.
The sort of thing they had done countless times.
For years.
For nearly half their lives.
Adrian didn’t even hesitate.
Because why would he?
This was Marian.
His Marian.
The girl who had always taken his hand.
Always.
Without exception.
Without thought.
Without question.
Marian pulled away.
Not dramatically.
Not quickly.
Just enough.
A few inches.
Nothing more.
Yet the effect was immediate.
Adrian froze.
Completely.
The room fell silent.
For a moment neither moved.
Neither spoke.
Neither breathed.
Because suddenly the distance between them felt enormous.
Marian hadn’t planned it.
That was the worst part.
It wasn’t calculated.
It wasn’t punishment.
It wasn’t revenge.
For the first time in eighteen years—
She simply hadn’t wanted him touching her.
The realization shocked her.
Almost as much as it shocked Adrian.
Slowly, she looked up.
And saw it.
The expression on his face.
Not anger.
Not frustration.
Not irritation.
Something far worse.
Shock.
Genuine shock.
As though he’d just realized something.
As though for the first time—
He understood this wasn’t going away.
Neither mentioned it.
Neither acknowledged it.
Yet the moment lingered.
Heavy.
Unavoidable.
Permanent.
A short while later, Adrian left.
The conversation ended politely.
Gracefully.
Like proper nobles.
Like strangers.
The thought made Marian feel sick.
After the door closed, silence filled the room.
Again.
Marian stared at the lilies sitting on the table.
Beautiful flowers.
Thoughtful flowers.
Flowers chosen by a man who knew her favorite flower.
Knew her favorite color.
Knew her favorite tea.
Knew her favorite books.
And somehow—
Didn’t know her at all.
The realization hurt.
Far more than she wanted to admit.
Meanwhile, Adrian stepped into his carriage.
Still thinking about the moment she’d pulled away.
A tiny movement.
Insignificant.
Yet somehow it felt worse than any argument they’d ever had.
Because arguments happened.
Arguments ended.
This felt different.
For the first time since they were children—
Adrian wasn’t certain Marian would always be there when he reached for her.
And that uncertainty followed him all the way back to the palace.