The late afternoon sun fought through a bank of tall stained glass windows in the Duke's mansion to settle fractured rainbows upon the polished marble floor. Leona stood stiff in the grand hallway, clutching her stack of linens while a deep sense of ill presaged over her. There was something wrong.
She had not seen all day either Cedric or Vivienne, which itself was an anomaly, for their lives were so intwined. The court's murmurs of Cedric's affection for her did not settle after the ball, nor did the unexpected coldness from Vivienne that gnawed at Leona's resolve.
Still, she told herself there were bigger problems to handle, such as the oncoming storm that was Duke Magnus, Destined Hearts' antagonist, now even more dangerous with the story turned haywire.
So far, she had only seen Duke Magnus from a distance. A huge, hulking man with a square jaw, eyes that seemed to pierce right into her like a hawk, and a scowl marred deep into his face, he was that kind of person who got notice the moment he entered any room. In the story, he was an genius tactician who attained influence through manipulation and schemes. His rivalry with Cedric was one of the pivotal conflicts driving the plot forward.
But the rumors circulating among the servants painted a much darker picture. The Duke had become increasingly paranoid, prone to outbursts of rage, and quick to lash out at anyone he suspected of betrayal.
Leona hadn't given him much thought—her focus had been on fixing Vivienne and Cedric's dynamic. But now, as she turned the corner into the east wing, she found herself face-to-face with the man himself.
Duke Magnus stood at the end of the corridor, his imposing figure backlit by the evening sun. His sharp gaze locked onto her immediately, and a chill ran down Leona's spine.
"You," he barked, his voice echoing off the walls.
Leona froze, clutching the linens tighter to her chest. "M-Me, Your Grace?"
"Yes, you," he growled, stalking toward her with measured steps. "Who are you, and what are you doing in this part of the mansion?"
Leona's mind worked furiously. She was only a maid-or at least, that was her cover. She knew the east wing was forbidden, but the way Vivienne had retreated into these halls of memory more than once had forced Leona to follow her here. She opened her mouth to answer, but Magnus cut her off.
"You're not just a maid," he said, suspicion lacing his voice. "I've seen you lurking around first in the gardens, then at the ball, and now here. Spies do not usually last long in my household."
"Spy?" Leona's voice cracked. "Your Grace, I assure you, I'm not-"
"Silence!" Magnus snapped, his eyes narrowing. "Do you take me for a fool? You've been watching me, haven't you? Reporting to someone. Who sent you? Cedric? Or perhaps one of my enemies at court?"
The air in the corridor grew heavy, the Duke's anger radiating like a storm about to break. Leona's pulse quickened as she realized the gravity of the situation.
The robotic voice chose that moment to chime in her head, its usual monotone now tinged with urgency:
"Deviation detected: Duke Magnus. Original character traits altered. Current status: Erratic tyrant."
Leona's stomach churned. She didn't need the voice to tell her that. In place of the calm and calculating demeanor that the Duke had in the novel was a wild, unpredictable trait.
She had to think fast. "Your Grace," she said, trying to keep her voice steady, "I'm just a maid. I only wandered here because I-"
"Lies!" Magnus thundered, cutting her off. "Do you think I don't recognize a planted agent when I see one? Guards!"
Panic clawed at Leona's chest as the sound of boots echoed down the hall. Two armored guards appeared, their faces grim as they awaited Magnus's orders.
"Take her to the dungeons," Magnus commanded. "I'll deal with her myself."
Leona's heart sank as the guards approached, their hands reaching for her arms.
"Wait!" she shouted, her voice trembling but defiant. "You're making a mistake. I'm loyal to this household!"
Magnus sneered. "A maid's loyalty is worth less than the dust on my boots. You'll confess your true purpose soon enough."
Leona was dragged away by the guards as her mind raced. The Duke was far more unstable than she had anticipated, and now she was caught in the crossfire of his paranoia.
The dungeon was cold and dank, as one would expect the stone walls slick with moisture, air heavy with the stench of decaying matter. They pushed Leona into a small cell, slammed the iron gate shut, and clanged it resoundingly.
"Enjoy your stay," one jived, now retreating up the stairs.
Leona slumped against the wall, her body shaking with fear and anger.
"This is not how today was supposed to go," she muttered.
The robotic voice chimed in again, as unhelpful as ever:
"Critical deviation escalation. Immediate corrective action required."
"No kidding," Leona snapped, the sound of her voice loud in the empty cell. "How am I supposed to fix him if I'm stuck down here?"
The voice, predictably, did not respond.
Hours ticked by; the chill seeped deeper into her bones as Leona wrestled to come up with a plan. Magnus wasn't some background character; he was a keystone in the conflict of this story. His Machiavellian machinations and ruthless ambition were intended to press Cedric toward growth as a leader, to unite the kingdom together. But if Magnus went on like this, wildly tyrannical, it would be the end of the story-and this world.
She closed her fists. She couldn't afford to fail here. Not when the stakes were so high.
As despair began to creep in, a sound echoed down the dungeon and Leona sat up with her heart leaping both with hope and apprehension.
A figure emerged from behind, and her breath caught.
"Cedric?" she whispered.
The silver-haired duke stood before her cell, his icy blue eyes scanning her with a mixture of concern and… something else she couldn't quite place.
"What are you doing here?" she asked, her voice a mix of relief and confusion.
"I heard about Magnus's accusations," Cedric said, his voice low. "They're baseless, of course. I came to get you out."
Leona's chest constricted. "Thank you, but… won't that cause more trouble with Magnus?"
Cedric smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Let me handle Magnus. He's been. difficult lately, but he won't defy me outright."
Before Leona could protest further, Cedric unlocked the cell door and extended a hand to her. She hesitated for a moment, then took it, her cold fingers curling around his warm ones.
He led her out of the dungeon, and a new wave of determination surged through her.
Magnus wasn't just a threat to her safety-he was a threat to the entire story. And if she wanted to fix him, she'd have to confront him head-on.
But how do you reason with a man who's already teetering on the edge of madness?
The answer was, Leona suspected, coming sooner than she liked. As she and Cedric mounted the stone steps and reentered in the main hall, Magnus awaited them.
His eyes slashed to her, and his upper lip curled into a sneer.
"Cedric," he said, his words as dripping with disdain. "You overstep yourself."
"And you overstep your authority," Cedric replied coolly. "This maid is innocent, Magnus. Your paranoia is making you reckless."
Magnus's face darkened, and for a moment, Leona thought he might explode.
"She's not innocent," Magnus hissed. "I know what I saw."
"Then provide proof," Cedric countered, his voice steady but firm. "If you can't, I suggest you think carefully before making any more baseless accusations."
Magnus's hands clenched into fists, and for one tense moment, the air crackled with unspoken animosity.
Leona's heart pounded as she stood between them, a pawn in a dangerous game of power and pride.
This was only the beginning. She could feel it in her bones.
Magnus wasn't going to back down, and neither was Cedric.
The story was careening toward a new kind of chaos, and Leona was right in the middle.
And as the night stretched on, one thing became painfully clear: fixing Duke Magnus would be her most dangerous mission yet.