The faint scent of roses hung in the air as Isla lingered in the courtyard, her thoughts tangled in an endless loop. The evening's festivities continued in the grand hall beyond the towering stone walls, the laughter and music spilling faintly into the night. But out here, under the pale moonlight, the world was quieter. Still.
Too still.
Her fingers brushed the cold marble edge of the fountain, the water's bubbling rhythm doing little to steady her nerves. She had made it through the past few days without falling apart, but the cracks were beginning to show. Adrian Blackthorn's words from earlier that week still echoed in her mind:
"You'll need me eventually, Isla."
She hated how smug he had sounded. Worse, she hated that he might be right.
The whispers she had overheard tonight in the hall had been subtle but unmistakable. The nobles were circling like vultures, sensing weakness. Prince Louis's distance, his cold demeanor, had not gone unnoticed. Her engagement, once a shield that protected her from scrutiny, felt as though it were dangling by a thread.
And Adrian? He had been watching. Always watching. Like a predator waiting for the perfect moment to pounce.
"Lady Evangeline."
The voice startled her, and she turned sharply to find Prince Louis standing a few paces away. His presence was as commanding as ever, his regal bearing enhanced by the moonlight glinting off the golden embroidery of his coat. But there was no warmth in his expression. No softness in his voice.
"Your Highness," Isla said, quickly dipping into a curtsy. Her heart thudded painfully in her chest, but she forced herself to remain composed. "I didn't hear you approach."
"I imagine you have much on your mind," he said, his tone cool but polite. "May I have a word?"
She hesitated, her pulse quickening. "Of course."
He gestured for her to follow, leading her away from the fountain and down a secluded garden path. The silence between them was heavy, broken only by the faint rustle of leaves as the wind swept through the trees. Isla's mind raced, trying to anticipate what he might say, but when Louis finally spoke, his words cut through her thoughts like a blade.
"I believe it is time we address the state of our engagement."
Her steps faltered, but she quickly recovered, forcing herself to keep pace with him. "What do you mean, Your Highness?"
Louis stopped walking and turned to face her, his expression unreadable. "I have heard rumors, Lady Evangeline. Whispers that cast doubt on your character. On your… identity."
Her stomach dropped. "Rumors?" she repeated, her voice carefully neutral. "Surely you don't believe such baseless gossip."
Louis's jaw tightened. "I am not one to be swayed by idle talk. But these rumors… they are persistent. And they have raised questions that I cannot ignore."
Isla's throat tightened. She had known this moment was coming, but that didn't make it any easier to face. "Your Highness, I assure you, I have done nothing to bring dishonor to our engagement."
"Perhaps not," he said quietly. "But trust is a fragile thing, Lady Evangeline. And once it is broken, it is not easily mended."
The weight of his words settled over her like a suffocating blanket. She wanted to protest, to defend herself, but the truth was, she had no defense. Not one that wouldn't unravel the carefully constructed facade she had built.
Louis's gaze softened, but only slightly. "You are a remarkable woman," he said. "But I cannot move forward with this engagement while these doubts linger. For the sake of the kingdom—and for both our sakes—I must end it."
The world seemed to tilt beneath her feet. Isla opened her mouth to respond, but no words came. She had known this was a possibility, but hearing it spoken aloud was something else entirely. The engagement was over. Her protection was gone.
"I wish you well." Louis said, his voice quiet but firm. He inclined his head and turned away, leaving her standing alone in the moonlit garden.
For a moment, Isla could do nothing but stare after him, her mind blank with shock. And then, as the weight of what had just happened began to sink in, a familiar voice broke the silence.
"Well, that was unfortunate."
She whirled around to find Adrian Blackthorn leaning casually against a nearby tree, his arms crossed over his chest. His dark eyes gleamed with amusement, though his smirk was tempered by something more serious.
"Were you following me?" she demanded, her voice sharper than she intended.
"Following? No," Adrian said, pushing off the tree and strolling toward her. "Observing? Perhaps."
"I don't have time for this," Isla snapped, brushing past him. "Go bother someone else."
But Adrian caught her arm, stopping her in her tracks. His grip was firm but not unkind, and when she turned to glare at him, his expression was uncharacteristically serious.
"Isla," he said quietly. "You need to listen to me."
"I don't need anything from you," she shot back, though the words lacked conviction. "You think you can swoop in and fix everything with your schemes and your smug little smiles, but—"
"Louis is just the beginning."
The words stopped her cold. She stared at him, her heart pounding. "What are you talking about?"
Adrian's jaw tightened, and for a moment, she thought he might actually look concerned. "The letter I showed you? It wasn't the only one. There are more."
Her blood ran cold. "More?!"
He nodded grimly. "Whoever is behind this isn't just trying to ruin your engagement. They're trying to destroy you."
Isla's breath caught. The garden seemed to spin around her, the shadows stretching and shifting in the moonlight. "Why are you telling me this?" she whispered.
"Because whether you like it or not, we're on the same side," Adrian said. "Whoever is targeting you has their sights set on me as well. If you fall, I fall. And I'm not in the habit of losing."
She opened her mouth to respond, but before she could speak, the sound of hurried footsteps reached them. They both turned, and Isla's stomach dropped as Clara appeared, her face pale and her eyes wide with panic.
"Isla," Clara said, her voice trembling. "You need to come inside. Now."
"What is it?" Isla asked, her heart pounding.
Clara hesitated, glancing between Isla and Adrian before finally speaking. "There's been… an announcement. In the great hall."
"An announcement?" Isla repeated, dread coiling in her stomach. "What kind of announcement?"
Clara swallowed hard. "The king has named a new successor for Prince Louis's engagement."
The words hit her like a physical blow. "What?" she whispered. "But… that doesn't make any sense. He just ended it—"
"It's not with another noblewoman," Clara interrupted, her voice barely above a whisper. "It's with you."