Evelyn spent the rest of the morning trying to remember everything she knew about herself.
It was harder than it should have been.
Not because she had forgotten her previous life.
She hadn’t.
She remembered her apartment.
Her university years.
Her friends.
The cheap coffee she used to buy on the way to work.
The little grocery store downstairs.
The countless nights spent reading novels when she should have been sleeping.
She remembered The Crown of Ashes too.
That was the problem.
She remembered the story.
She remembered the characters.
She remembered the ending.
But she didn’t remember Evelyn Valemont.
Not properly.
The original Evelyn had never been important enough for the author to give her a detailed personality.
She had been described as quiet.
Obedient.
Beautiful.
That was essentially it.
Her marriage to Lucien had been mentioned as part of the political background.
Their relationship had never been explored because the protagonist’s story began elsewhere.
Evelyn had assumed the character was simply irrelevant.
Now she understood the danger of that assumption.
A person could be irrelevant to a story and still be essential to the people living inside it.
She stood in front of the dressing table while the maid adjusted her hair.
“My lady?”
Evelyn looked up.
“Yes?”
“Are you certain you feel well?”
“I’m fine.”
The maid smiled uncertainly.
“You have asked me that three times.”
Evelyn glanced at her reflection.
She had.
“Sorry.”
The maid continued arranging her hair.
Evelyn tried to remain still.
Her thoughts returned to the previous conversation.
Three years.
She had somehow remembered the timeline correctly.
The war began three years from now.
Lucien died shortly after.
And yet there was something she couldn’t reconcile.
The wedding.
She had been certain it was happening today.
Lucien had mentioned that she had been married to him for almost a year.
Which meant the scene she remembered from the beginning of the novel wasn’t actually the beginning.
The main story had begun later.
That made sense.
She had simply never paid attention to the background events.
Evelyn closed her eyes.
“Stupid.”
“My lady?”
“Nothing.”
The maid finished the last section of her hair.
“You look beautiful.”
Evelyn looked at herself.
The woman in the mirror still felt like a stranger.
But something had changed.
She no longer looked terrified.
She looked determined.
If she truly had three years, she needed to use them.
The first thing she needed was money.
The second was information.
The third was a way out.
If she could break the marriage before the war, perhaps Lucien would never become the villain.
Or perhaps he would.
Evelyn didn’t know.
That uncertainty was the worst part.
She stood.
“I want to see the household accounts.”
The maid blinked.
“The accounts?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I am the duchess.”
It sounded strange saying it.
The maid hesitated.
“His Grace usually handles the accounts.”
“Then I want to see them anyway.”
The maid nodded.
“As you wish.”
Evelyn walked toward the door.
Before she could leave, someone knocked.
A young man entered.
He was dressed in a formal black uniform bearing the Valemont crest.
“Lady Valemont.”
“Yes?”
“His Grace requests your presence at breakfast.”
Evelyn stared at him.
“Breakfast?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
The servant looked confused.
“Because you are his wife.”
That answer was so obvious that Evelyn felt embarrassed.
Of course.
A husband and wife were supposed to eat together.
She had been so focused on survival that she had forgotten normal married life existed.
“Fine.”
She followed the servant.
The dining room was smaller than she expected.
Long enough to seat twelve people, perhaps, but only two places had been prepared.
Lucien was already there.
He was reading a document.
He didn’t look up when Evelyn entered.
She hesitated.
Then she sat across from him.
A servant poured tea.
Evelyn wrapped her hands around the cup.
Silence.
Lucien continued reading.
Evelyn watched him.
He was wearing a dark gray coat instead of black this morning.
There was a small silver pin on his collar.
She recognized it.
In the novel, that pin belonged to the northern military command.
Lucien noticed her looking.
“You recognize it?”
Evelyn almost choked on her tea.
“No.”
“You’re staring.”
“I was looking at the design.”
He glanced at it.
“It’s the Valemont crest.”
“I know.”
“You just said you didn’t recognize it.”
Evelyn paused.
“I meant I didn’t recognize the particular design.”
Lucien stared at her.
She looked away.
He returned to his document.
A minute passed.
Then another.
Evelyn realized something.
They were married.
Yet breakfast felt like a diplomatic negotiation.
She decided to test something.
“Your Grace.”
“Yes?”
“How long have we been married?”
Lucien lowered the document.
“Eleven months.”
So the maid had been wrong about nothing.
Evelyn mentally adjusted her timeline.
“Do we have a good relationship?”
He stared at her.
“That’s an unusual question.”
“I want an answer.”
Lucien leaned back slightly.
“We are polite.”
“That’s all?”
“We don’t argue.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
His eyes narrowed.
“No.”
Evelyn waited.
“We are not close.”
That made sense.
She wasn’t sure whether she should be relieved.
“Do you dislike me?”
“No.”
The answer came immediately.
Evelyn looked at him.
Lucien returned to his tea.
“I don’t dislike you.”
“Do you like me?”
He stopped.
For the first time that morning, Evelyn saw something almost like surprise on his face.
“I don’t know you well enough.”
It was an honest answer.
She appreciated that.
“I see.”
Lucien looked at her.
“You’ve been different since you woke up.”
Evelyn’s fingers tightened around her cup.
“I told you I was tired.”
“That’s not what I mean.”
He studied her.
“You used to avoid asking questions.”
“I’ve changed.”
“Apparently.”
The silence returned.
Evelyn looked down.
The original Evelyn had been quiet.
Obedient.
She didn’t know whether those traits were real or simply how the author had chosen to portray her.
But she couldn’t imitate them forever.
If she wanted to survive, she needed to understand the household.
She needed power.
Knowledge.
Resources.
And Lucien.
Unfortunately, the last one was the hardest to understand.
“You said yesterday that you had no intention of harming me.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Lucien’s expression became unreadable.
“Should I have a reason?”
“Most people do.”
“I don’t consider harming my wife particularly useful.”
Evelyn raised an eyebrow.
“That’s a very romantic answer.”
He looked at her.
She immediately regretted the sentence.
To her surprise, the corner of his mouth moved.
Not quite a smile.
But almost.
“I wasn’t attempting to be romantic.”
“I noticed.”
Breakfast continued.
When it ended, Evelyn returned to her room.
The household accounts arrived an hour later.
She spent the next several hours reading.
The Valemont family was wealthy.
Very wealthy.
But not as wealthy as Evelyn had expected.
The estate owned mines, farms, forests and several trade routes.
However, large portions of the income were being redirected toward military defense.
Evelyn frowned.
There were also enormous expenses listed under infrastructure.
Road repairs.
Food storage.
Medical supplies.
Public wells.
She turned another page.
“Why?”
The maid standing nearby looked up.
“Why what?”
“These expenses.”
“The duke orders them.”
“But why?”
The maid smiled faintly.
“Because people need them.”
Evelyn stared at her.
“That’s it?”
“Yes.”
That was not how the villain in the novel behaved.
She continued reading.
The more she read, the stranger it became.
Lucien wasn’t hoarding money.
He was spending it.
A significant portion of his personal income went into maintaining the northern territory.
Evelyn remembered the novel.
The northern territories had been described as impoverished.
The imperial court had accused Lucien of withholding taxes.
But if these accounts were accurate…
Then the situation was more complicated.
Someone had lied.
She looked at the numbers again.
The amount of imperial taxes paid by the Valemont territory was enormous.
Far larger than what Evelyn remembered.
She closed the ledger.
“Can I see previous years?”
The maid nodded.
“Of course.”
Three hours later, Evelyn had filled several pages with notes.
There was a pattern.
The Valemont family had been increasing its spending on the territory for years.
At the same time, their political influence had been decreasing.
That didn’t make sense.
Unless someone wanted them weakened.
Evelyn stood.
“I need to speak with the duke.”
The maid hesitated.
“His Grace is in the study.”
“Again?”
“He spends most of his time there.”
Evelyn walked toward the west wing.
She knocked.
No answer.
She knocked again.
Still nothing.
She opened the door.
Lucien stood near the window.
He turned.
“You should knock until someone answers.”
“I did.”
“Twice.”
“That seems sufficient.”
His expression remained calm.
“What do you want?”
“I read the accounts.”
“That was fast.”
“You spend a lot of money on the territory.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Lucien looked at her.
“Because it belongs to me.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It is.”
Evelyn crossed her arms.
“You could spend less.”
“I could.”
“You don’t.”
“No.”
“Why?”
Lucien was silent for a moment.
Then he walked toward his desk.
“Because if I don’t, people die.”
The simplicity of the answer made Evelyn uncomfortable.
She looked at the documents on his desk.
“Does the imperial court know?”
“They receive the reports.”
“Do they know the actual numbers?”
“Probably.”
“Probably?”
Lucien gave her a faintly amused look.
“You ask a great many questions.”
“I’ve been told.”
He sat down.
“You weren’t like this before.”
“I know.”
He watched her.
Evelyn hesitated.
Then she asked:
“Do you trust the imperial court?”
“No.”
The answer was immediate.
“Why?”
“Because they have given me too many reasons not to.”
She waited.
He didn’t elaborate.
Evelyn looked at the maps behind him.
Northern territories.
Trade routes.
Military positions.
Then she saw something.
A small red mark.
She recognized the location.
Her heart skipped.
“That village.”
Lucien followed her gaze.
“What about it?”
“It burns.”
He went still.
Evelyn realized what she had said.
She corrected herself.
“I mean… I heard it had problems.”
Lucien stared at her.
“When?”
She swallowed.
“Recently.”
“From whom?”
“I don’t remember.”
He stood.
“That village has no recorded problems.”
Evelyn said nothing.
Lucien walked closer.
“Why did you say it would burn?”
“I didn’t.”
“You did.”
“I misspoke.”
His gaze remained fixed on her.
For a moment, Evelyn thought she had made a terrible mistake.
Then a knock came at the door.
A soldier entered.
“Your Grace.”
Lucien didn’t look away from Evelyn.
“What is it?”
“A messenger has arrived from the eastern border.”
“What news?”
The soldier hesitated.
“There’s been an attack.”
Evelyn’s blood ran cold.
“Which village?”
The soldier gave the name.
The same village.
Silence.
Lucien slowly turned toward him.
“When?”
“Approximately one hour ago.”
Evelyn’s hands became cold.
One hour.
She had mentioned the village before the attack was reported.
Lucien looked at her again.
This time, there was no confusion in his eyes.
Only calculation.
Evelyn knew immediately.
He understood.
She had predicted something she shouldn’t have known.
And for the first time, Lucien’s calm expression disappeared.
Not completely.
Just enough.
He looked at her as though she were a puzzle he had finally decided to solve.
“Lady Valemont.”
His voice was quiet.
“Who are you?”