At a Small Town in Verdaselles
Dominic drove his sleek automobile down the dusty road, leaving Ednan behind as he approached a quiet, quaint town in Verdaselles. The evening air was heavy with the scent of woodsmoke and damp earth, giving the small town an almost mystical feel under the dim street lamps. Dominic wore a sleeveless sweater over a crisp white shirt, his trousers neat and fitted. His long hair, tied back in a ponytail, gave him an effortlessly refined look. Glancing at a folded piece of paper that Evangeline had given him from the bar, he sighed, his thoughts drifting to her.
"Evangeline will be tied up with business by now. I need to wrap this up before the anniversary," he thought, tucking the paper into his pocket. He slowed the car and parked near an old-fashioned building that loomed before him, with two masked men standing guard outside.
As he stepped out, Dominic slipped on his coat and adjusted his hat, then moved toward the men with a casual yet dignified stride. The men watched him approach, their faces obscured by dark masks, adding an air of secrecy to the already discreet meeting place.
"It's been a while since your last visit, Mr. Brusward," one of the men said, folding his arms with a smirk.
Dominic chuckled, brushing a speck of dust from his sleeve. "Yes, it has. Marriage and state matters tend to keep a man occupied. I'm here to see Mr. Anthony—is he around?"
The men nodded, stepping aside to escort him through the dimly lit entrance. Dominic donned his own mask, blending in with the air of anonymity shared by the building's occupants. The halls were dim, lit only by low-hanging chandeliers, casting long shadows over the richly patterned wallpaper and antique furnishings. As they walked, Dominic's gaze took in the familiar surroundings.
"It feels like a lifetime since I last walked these halls... back when I met Azielle," he thought, his mind drifting for a moment before snapping back to the present.
As he moved further inside, Dominic noticed the attention he was drawing. His presence commanded subtle whispers, and masked women watched him, their eyes lingering with interest. One woman in particular, wearing a delicate lace mask, approached him boldly, placing herself in his path. She ran her gloved hand over his chest, her eyes glinting behind her mask as she leaned closer.
"Hello, handsome," she purred. "Care to join me for a drink? Perhaps somewhere a little more private?"
Dominic exhaled in irritation, firmly taking her hand from his chest. "I'm not interested," he replied coldly.
Unperturbed, the woman's grip tightened on his arm as she leaned in with a sly smile, unfazed by his resistance. "One cup won't hurt," she whispered, trying to draw him closer. Her persistence bordered on desperation.
Meanwhile, across the room, Goldyewn Selding glanced up from her poker game, her attention caught by a familiar figure in the corner. She recognized Dominic immediately, and her lips curled into a smirk as she noticed the woman pestering him. "So, he's here," she thought, her eyes narrowing with amusement.
Dominic's patience wore thin as the woman continued to cling to him, her fingers tracing down his arm. He seized her hand firmly, pulling her toward a discreet corner with a sharp, uncompromising look that left her momentarily breathless. Behind them, Goldyewn's curiosity piqued. She excused herself from the poker table, her eyes trained on Dominic as she wove through the room to get a better view.
Dominic pinned the woman to the wall with a roughness that took her breath away. She gasped, a surprised smile spreading across her lips as she leaned back against him, eyes fluttering closed. His hand trailed slowly from her shoulder, down her arm, and further to her thigh, making her bite her lip in anticipation. She moaned softly, pressing herself closer to him, her fingers tracing his jaw as her other hand clutched his coat, pulling him nearer.
Just as she thought he would give in, Dominic's hand slipped into his pocket. She chuckled, convinced he was reaching for something more intimate. But before she could react, she felt the cold, unyielding press of a gun barrel against her jaw. Her eyes snapped open in shock, her breath caught in her throat.
Dominic pressed the gun harder, his voice low and cold. "You know," he began, eyes narrowing, "you shouldn't just throw yourself at every man you meet, hoping for a little fun. I'm here on business—far more important than someone as unworthy as you."
Her breathing quickened, her face paling as he released the gun from her jaw only to trail it down her body. He stopped with the barrel pressed against her inner thigh through the thin fabric of her dress touching her groin. She gasped, fear now replacing the flirtation in her gaze.
"You're fortunate to meet someone merciful," he continued, voice dripping with menace. "Another man might be tempted to end this conversation with bullets." The threat lingered, chilling her to the core. Trembling, she quickly stumbled away, casting one last fearful look over her shoulder before disappearing into the crowd.
Dominic exhaled, tucking his gun back into his coat with a small, satisfied smirk. But his reprieve was short-lived; the slow, sarcastic clap of hands caught his attention. He turned to see a striking figure approaching—Goldyewn, her presence commanding as ever in a black dress, golden blonde hair cascading down her shoulders, and long, sleek black gloves extending to her elbows and a feather mask.
"Ah, Dominic," she drawled, her voice laced with amusement. "You haven't changed at all. Always so dedicated to your precious betrothed. And yet, here you are, where betrayal and secrets linger." She chuckled, clearly reveling in the scene she'd just witnessed.
Dominic's eyes narrowed as he studied her. "Goldyewn... so you're here, too," he thought, his expression indifferent as he met her gaze. "My relationships are none of your concern," he replied coolly.
Goldyewn tilted her head, a mocking smile tugging at her lips. "Of course. Still, I can't say I'm surprised to find the future Duke of this nation lurking in shadowed corners like some common criminal." She pulled a lighter from her bag, flicked it on, and lit a cigar, inhaling deeply before blowing out a thin cloud of smoke that curled between them. "Then again, what else should I expect from a Brusward?"
She took another drag from the cigar, her eyes glinting with mischief as she watched him carefully, savoring his reaction.
Dominic kept his composure, his gaze unwavering as he watched her with the same cool distance. "Believe what you like, Goldyewn," he replied icily. "I'll remind you, though—my business here, like my family, is something far beyond your comprehension."
She chuckled again, her gaze assessing him with an intensity that bordered on sinister. "You think you're so untouchable, don't you, Dominic? Well, enjoy your illusions of control while you still have them." With that, she took one last, lingering look Before leaving a faint trace of cigar smoke drifting in her wake.
Dominic's expression remained utterly indifferent as Goldyewn taunted him. He adjusted his coat, glancing away, as if her words were little more than an annoying breeze.
"Still none of your business," he replied flatly, his voice carrying a bored edge. "I don't pry into your family's affairs, nor do I care to. If you have something to tell me, do it quickly. I don't have time to waste." Without waiting, he began to walk past her.
Goldyewn's smirk deepened, and she took a step forward, blocking his path. "Why so quick to leave? I know why you're here—you want to expose my family's plans against your precious wife, don't you?"
Dominic stopped, a small chuckle escaping his lips. "Even if I did, would it matter?" He turned to face her, crossing his arms in a relaxed, almost dismissive gesture. "Have your family forgotten that the High Lady of the Sarogaths in Verdaselles is married to a Brusward? Quite bold of you all, I must say."
She laughed, exhaling a thin stream of smoke. "Oh, we admire the Bruswards, no doubt. Despite your success in business, you're just an afterthought in our concerns. We're interested only in Evangeline Sarogath, after all." Her gaze sharpened as she added, "Are you really threatening me, Dominic? With power you barely have anymore? You've cut ties with your family, haven't you? Or are you hiding behind Evangeline's influence too?"
A shadow passed over Dominic's expression, his fingers tightening briefly before he relaxed again, his face an unreadable mask. "Just because I've distanced myself from them doesn't mean I'm any less of a threat, Miss Selding," he said, his tone low and calm.
Goldyewn let out a sly cackle, tapping ash from her cigar. "We'll see about that." She eyed him with mock curiosity. "It's almost comical, Dominic—the mighty Brusward, reduced to someone his own wife distrusts. I hear she despises you, actually. She sees you as a threat. And you? You're left playing your little game of loyalty." She chuckled, her eyes glinting. "First it was Eliza Venison cheating on you, and now Evangeline? Quite the pattern, isn't it? Evangeline seems to be awfully close to her bodyguard. What a pity."
Dominic's face remained stoic, yet a flicker of something sharp and cold danced in his eyes as he let out a soft, mocking laugh, more amused than wounded. He looked at her as though she were a child trying to provoke him with meaningless words.
"Is that so?" he replied, a faint smirk curving his lips as if he'd seen right through her attempt to rile him. "If your ears and eyes are as keen as you claim, then you should know by now—none of that bothers me. Eliza, Evangeline, the rumors…they're trivial."
Goldyewn's smirk faltered slightly, but she quickly recovered, taking another drag from her cigar. "I saw the news yesterday," she continued, clearly trying to regain control of the conversation. "It seems you and Evangeline are putting on quite the act, avoiding rumors. Or perhaps… you're doing it just to keep up appearances?"
Dominic's smile widened slightly, his voice laced with sarcasm. "If it keeps prying eyes busy, then I'd say it's well worth the performance." He tipped his hat mockingly, turning his back to her. "But rest assured, Miss Selding—appearances can be deceiving."
With that, he strode off, leaving Goldyewn to watch him with a simmering mixture of intrigue and frustration. She exhaled a cloud of smoke, her gaze lingering on his retreating figure as she wondered what his next move might be.
"Stay away from Evangeline," Dominic warned, his tone like ice.
Goldyewn laughed in his face, her mocking smile widening. "Stay away? You must be joking," she scoffed. "Your wife dared to insult the Selding family by impersonating me and taking what belongs to us. And you think I'll just stay away?" She cackled, stepping closer, her fingertips brushing along his cheek as she smirked. "Evangeline could be in real danger as we speak. She stole something quite valuable from us, and it's only right I take something equally precious in return."
Dominic met her gaze with a steady, unfeeling stare, his expression impenetrable.
Goldyewn's smirk deepened. "I'm not as ruthless as your father, you know. I could let Evangeline go if you… spend the night with me," she purred, her hand sliding to his shoulder as she tugged his tie playfully. "Besides, if your dear wife is cozying up with her bodyguard, why don't we return the favor?" She leaned in, trying to pull him closer, but Dominic's hand intercepted her, firmly pushing her away.
"If you so much as attempt to harm Evangeline," he said, his voice calm but laced with steel, "you'll have to get through me—and Prince George—first. Since you've already seen the two of us together in the papers, you should understand that your little game is pointless. If you have a problem, tell it to Oscar Selding. Perhaps he'll find your theatrics amusing."
He brushed past her, indifferent to the seething anger building in her gaze.
Goldyewn clenched her fists, her face twisting in a furious scowl. "Just you wait, Dominic," she hissed under her breath, her voice barely concealing her rage. She stomped her foot as if she could force his attention back to her, but Dominic didn't even look back.
As he walked away, he allowed himself a faint, sardonic smile, recalling her history with her family. "You're one to talk of loyalty," he mused to himself, "especially after getting caught with the servants and losing your engagement."
Goldyewn's face darkened with fury as Dominic's words landed like a sharp slap. His calm, unaffected tone cut through her like a blade, exposing the raw truth she could barely swallow.
The insult hit its mark. Goldyewn's breath caught in her throat, and for a moment, her eyes flashed with the pain she tried so desperately to hide. Her hand trembled at her side, the bitterness of his words sinking in deep. It was a wound she couldn't heal—not with all the power and status she commanded.
She clenched her fists, the pain and humiliation coiling in her chest. "You—" she started, but Dominic had already turned his back to her, uninterested in her outrage. He continued walking, his pace unaffected by the storm she was brewing in her wake.
"Just keep walking, Dominic," she muttered under her breath, her voice tight. "You think you're so superior, but I will make you regret this."
Dominic's indifference was a blade that cut deeper than any words she could hurl at him. He didn't even spare her another glance as he made his way down the corridor. To him, she was a footnote, a nuisance.
Goldyewn's mind raced, her pride stinging. But she couldn't afford to let him see how much his words had affected her. She lifted her chin, forcing a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "At least I don't have to hide my affairs behind a mask of innocence," she muttered under her breath, her words dripping with venom.
But even as she said it, the truth settled over her. In that moment, his words felt like a final condemnation—a reminder of everything she had lost. A reminder that, despite her best efforts, she would never be as powerful as the woman Dominic truly cared for.
Dominic's words were cutting, his indifference wrapping around his sharp tone like a frozen wall.
"You're talking about affairs?" he said, his voice cool and detached, as if he were discussing a trivial matter. "At least my wife's affair is with someone of status—a man with influence, respect, and power. Not like you, Goldyewn, who had to resort to meaningless flings with worthless servants."
He let the words hang in the air, the coldness of his assessment sinking in. There was no emotion behind it, just the blunt truth that left Goldyewn no room to maneuver. Dominic's gaze never wavered from his path as he added, "So, if you're going to make accusations about loyalty, perhaps you should consider your own actions before speaking."
Goldyewn's eyes narrowed as she watched Dominic disappear into the distance. "You think your wife's little affair is better, huh?" she whispered, her tone full of malice. "We'll see who gets the last laugh."
But Dominic wasn't listening. His focus was elsewhere—on protecting what mattered most to him. And as he walked away, Goldyewn could do nothing but stew in the frustration that churned inside her.