Isla pushed open the heavy oak door to her chambers and stepped inside, closing it behind her with a soft click. The estate was eerily quiet, the sort of silence that made her skin crawl. The events of the night still clung to her like the damp chill of the forest, refusing to let her go. She leaned against the door for a moment, her heart still racing, her breathing uneven.
She was alive. She had survived. And yet, the weight of everything that had happened was suffocating.
Crossing the room, she collapsed onto the edge of her bed, her fingers gripping the embroidered coverlet as if it were the only thing anchoring her to reality. The hooded man's words echoed in her mind: *"Going somewhere, Isla?"* He had known her name—her *real* name. That thought sent a fresh wave of unease through her.
How? How could he possibly have known?
Isla buried her face in her hands, her mind racing. This wasn't how the story was supposed to go. None of this was in the novel. The hooded man, the ambush in the forest, Elias saving her—none of it. She was supposed to be navigating court intrigue, dodging Rosaline's manipulations, and carefully rewriting Evangeline's reputation. Instead, she was unraveling a mystery that felt far bigger than her, one that seemed to blur the lines between her world and the novel's.
There was a knock at the door, startling her out of her thoughts.
"Come in," she called, her voice hoarse.
The door creaked open, and Elias stepped inside, his usual smirk firmly in place. He leaned casually against the doorframe, his bow slung over his shoulder, and regarded her with a mix of amusement and something else—something softer.
"You look like you've seen a ghost," he said, his tone light but his eyes sharp.
Isla frowned. "I could say the same about you. What are you doing here, Elias?"
He raised an eyebrow. "You're welcome, by the way. Saving your life wasn't exactly on my to-do list tonight, but I figured I'd be a good Samaritan."
She crossed her arms. "Why *did* you save me? You don't exactly strike me as the selfless type."
He chuckled, pushing away from the doorframe and stepping further into the room. "I'm hurt, Lady Evangeline. You wound me."
"Cut the theatrics," Isla said, narrowing her eyes. "Why were you in the forest? And why did you help me?"
Elias's smirk faded, and for a moment, he looked almost serious. "Let's just say I have a vested interest in keeping you alive," he said.
Her frown deepened. "That's not an answer."
"It's the only one you're getting," he replied, his tone leaving no room for argument. "For now, at least."
Before she could press him further, he turned and headed for the door. "Get some rest, my lady," he said over his shoulder. "You'll need it."
And with that, he was gone, leaving Isla with more questions than answers.
---
The next morning, the estate was abuzz with activity. Guards patrolled the grounds, their expressions grim and watchful. Servants whispered to one another as they went about their duties, their eyes darting nervously toward the windows. The tension in the air was palpable, suffocating.
Isla made her way to the dining hall, her steps slow and hesitant. She wasn't sure what she expected to find, but the sight that greeted her when she entered the room wasn't it.
Clara and Thomas were seated at the long dining table, deep in conversation. Clara's cheeks were flushed, and she was gesturing animatedly, her braid swinging as she spoke. Thomas, for his part, was watching her with an intensity that made Isla pause.
She cleared her throat, and both of them looked up, their expressions shifting. Clara offered her a bright smile, while Thomas's face settled into its usual guarded mask.
"Good morning," Isla said, taking a seat across from them.
"Morning," Clara chirped. "You look like you didn't sleep at all."
"I didn't," Isla admitted. She glanced at Thomas. "Any news from Adrian?"
Thomas's jaw tightened slightly, but he shook his head. "He's in the study, meeting with the duke. They're discussing last night's... incident."
Isla nodded, her appetite nonexistent as she stared at the untouched plate of food in front of her.
Clara leaned forward, her eyes bright with curiosity. "So, are you going to tell me what happened? Or do I have to drag it out of you?"
Isla hesitated, glancing at Thomas, who was watching her with a calculating expression. She didn't want to involve Clara in this mess—it was dangerous enough as it was. But she knew Clara well enough to know that she wouldn't let it go.
"It's... complicated," Isla said finally. "There was an ambush in the forest. Adrian saved me, and Elias showed up out of nowhere to help."
Clara's eyes widened. "Elias? What was *he* doing there?"
"I don't know," Isla admitted. "But he knew I was in danger, and he saved me."
Thomas's expression darkened, his gaze flicking to Clara. "You shouldn't have gone into the forest alone," he said quietly.
Isla bristled at his tone. "I can take care of myself."
"Clearly," he said dryly, his words cutting.
Clara placed a hand on his arm, her touch gentle but firm. "Thomas," she said softly, her voice laced with concern. "Don't."
He looked at her, his expression softening ever so slightly. For a moment, Isla thought he might argue, but then he sighed and nodded.
"Fine," he said. "But you need to be more careful, Lady Evangeline."
Isla nodded reluctantly, her gaze shifting between the two of them. There was a quiet tension between them, something unspoken but undeniably present. She wondered how long it had been there, and how she hadn't noticed it before.
---
Later that day, Isla found herself wandering the halls of the estate, her thoughts a tangled mess. She couldn't stop thinking about the hooded man, about the way he had known her name. She couldn't stop thinking about the novel, about how far off course the story had gone.
In the novel, Evangeline had been a villainess through and through—cruel, conniving, and selfish. But Isla was beginning to wonder if there was more to her story than what the pages of the book had revealed.
She paused in front of a portrait hanging on the wall, her gaze drawn to the figure of a young Evangeline. She was dressed in a ball gown, her expression haughty and proud. But there was something in her eyes—something vulnerable, almost desperate.
Isla reached out, her fingers brushing against the gilded frame. She wondered what had happened to Evangeline to turn her into the woman she had become. What secrets had she carried? What burdens had she borne?
"Staring at yourself, are we?"
Isla turned to see Adrian standing a few feet away, his arms crossed over his chest. His expression was unreadable, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—something warm, almost amused.
"Just thinking," Isla said, dropping her hand.
"Dangerous habit," he said, stepping closer.
She rolled her eyes, but she couldn't help the small smile that tugged at her lips. "Why are you here, Adrian?"
He raised an eyebrow. "This is my estate, in case you've forgotten."
"You know what I mean," she said, crossing her arms.
He sighed, his expression softening. "I wanted to check on you. After last night..." He trailed off, his gaze searching hers.
"I'm fine," she said quickly, though the words felt hollow even to her.
Adrian stepped closer, his voice low. "You don't have to pretend with me, Isla."
The sincerity in his tone caught her off guard, and for a moment, she didn't know how to respond. She looked away, her cheeks warming under his intense gaze.
"Thank you," she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper.
"For what?"
"For saving me," she said, meeting his eyes. "I don't think I ever said it properly."
Adrian's lips quirked into a small smile. "You're welcome."
For a moment, they stood in silence, the tension between them palpable. And then, slowly, Adrian reached out, his fingers brushing against hers.
Her breath hitched, her heart pounding in her chest. She looked up at him, her eyes wide, and saw something in his expression that made her chest tighten.
"Isla," he murmured, his voice soft.
But before he could say anything else, the sound of footsteps echoed down the hall, and they quickly stepped apart.
Isla turned to see Clara approaching, her expression bright and cheerful.
"There you are!" Clara said, oblivious to the tension that lingered in the air. "I've been looking for you everywhere."
Isla forced a smile, her heart still racing. "What is it?"
Clara grinned. "Thomas is teaching me how to throw a dagger. Want to come watch?"
Isla hesitated, her gaze flicking to Adrian, who was watching her with an inscrutable expression.
"Go on," he said, his tone light. "I'm sure it'll be entertaining."
She nodded, her cheeks flushing as she followed Clara down the hall.
But even as she walked away, she couldn't shake the feeling of Adrian's fingers brushing against hers—or the way it had made her feel.