Don't you dare cry, Aleksasha Volkova. Don't you do it. There is no telling who is awake right now. This is your domain.
Aleksasha bitterly reminded herself as she stormed through the darkened halls of the manor in a haze. Her heart still racing and her mind reeling at what she saw. Despite the burning shame she felt, she kept her head held high.
No matter who that woman is, I am the mistress of this estate. This is my home. Matias is my husband.
She reassured herself though it didn't stop what happened from hurting her heart. She slipped through the dark oak door of her reception room and closed it softly behind her. She leaned back against the door, tears swelling up into her eyes. She closed them as she buried her face in her hands.
No. Alek, don't let them make you cry. Maybe this is just a horrible misunderstanding.
She bitterly told herself. She sniffed, straightening up as she lowered her trembling hands. The fire crackled softly in the fireplace as she took a deep breath, the scent of smoky pine and oak was reassuring and steady. Everything was in its place - all the things she brought with her from her family estate and the handful of things she bought for herself as indulgences once she was satisfied such expenses weren't destructive to the health of the estate. Her gaze lingered on her desk by the window, intricately carved out of sleek white pine, her ink pot and pen resting beside a roll of parchment with a neat stack of letters tied with a red ribbon. She wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand.
I need to get that woman far away from here. From Matias. From me. The victory banquet will be vital to getting her out of my house.
A soft knock echoed on the oak door behind her, snapping her from her thoughts. She stiffened, hope made her heart jump to her thought.
Did Matias follow me?
She shook her hair and turned to face the door, checking her clothes to make herself look sultry rather than pouty like she was a moment earlier. "Yes?" She called in a calm, clear voice.
"Forgive me, your grace," a young woman's voice whispered through the door. Aleksasha's heart sunk with a soft sigh, letting the maid continue. "You're needed outside at the stables." Her words were rushed and she sounded out of breath.
Aleksasha opened the door and frowned as she appraised the condition of the woman standing before her. Anya's freckled face was flushed and her long brown hair was messily pulled into a long braid. Her large brown eyes were full of fear and her mouth tight. She was dressed in a long white dressing gown with a long black shawl over her shoulders and shoes without stockings.
"At this hour? What's happened, Anya?"
Anya curtsied low, not quite meeting her duchess's eyes out of fervent respect for Aleksasha. "There was… a rider, you grace. He materialized out of the night on a steed as dark as pitch! He didn't stay after the guards approached him. He gave them a letter addressed to the duke. The steward thought it best to immediate inform you since his lordship…" Her eyes flicked up to Aleksasha's face to read what mood her lady was in.
Aleksasha shook her head and raised her hand to stop Anya from continuing that thought further. Her jaw tightened, her gaze darkened as displeasure flickered across her face.
Of course, they all know.
She collected herself for a moment, her eyes searched Anya's anxious face.
This is business Matias should deal with in the morning. But Anya is so distressed. To send her away without taking care of it means she won't be able to sleep tonight.
"Very well," Aleksasha said firmly. "Did you bring the message?"
Anya shook her head no.
Alek raised her hand and removed her thick white wool shawl from the back of her couch. "Take me to where it is," she ordered as she slid the shawl over her bare shoulders.
Why didn't she bring it with her?
—
Cold summer air nipped at Aleksasha's cheeks as Anya escorted her through the winding paths of the manor towards the stables. Nearby she heard the murmurs of conversation between two men and the restless whinny of a horse. Her gaze shifted over the well groomed hedges and sturdy roofs towards the clear night sky. A full hunter's moon illuminated way enough for them to not need a torch to find their way.
They came to a stop at the stables. In a long shadow of the structure, two of the house guards chatted until they noticed Aleksasha's approach. They fell silent, appraising their mistress's appearance and her expression before they bowed. They placed her fists over their hearts as Aleksasha bid them to rise once more. She looked to Anya and dismissed the girl.
"Your grace," the elder of the two guards began, his neatly trimmed dark beard peppered with gray. The younger man raised his head when the elder did so but he remained silent. "We thought it prudent to tell you personally. The rider arrived not long ago, his horse was slick with sweat and near collapse. But when we offered him a place for the horse to rest, he declined and rode off into the forest again."
"Did the courier say anything else?" Aleksasha appraised the appearance of the guards, they were serious and professional. She knew the man speaking as she knew all the men in her employ, he was, Ser Turold, the captain of the guards, and it was surprising he had taken this patrol shift. She nodded. "Did Ser Jory take the courier's message?" She asked calmly.
The younger man spoke up, Ser Antonello, the head steward's son. "No, your grace. He only said it was for Duke Volkov's eyes only. He hurdled towards us like he was a man pursued by death."
Ser Turold stepped forward and offered Aleksasha the letter.
She turned the large envelope over in her hands, the edges were damp and crumpled. The ink bearing the name Matias Volkov was slightly smeared but the black wax seal bearing a crest of a hawk was intact.
I don't recognize this crest. Is this war correspondence? Or something else? If this is intelligence related to the war, then if I… but if it's not…
Her finger traced the raised edges of the seal, her eyes flicked up. "Has it rained recently?" She asked contemplating where this letter came from.
"Not here." Antonello replied politely.
Aleksasha turned the letter over in her hands one more time before she slipped it into the pocket of her shawl. Her pulsed quickened at the possibilities. "Which direction did he run toward?"
Turold replied this time, "Eastward, your grace. He didn't leave a name or receive payment before he left. What are your orders, your grace?"
Aleksasha smiled politely at the captain's question as he anticipated she wanted them to act on something.
If I want them to find something out, I need to have them start now or risk losing those answers. Is this a danger to us? If the courier was fleeing from someone, he did not seek shelter here for a reason.
"Find out where it was raining recently nearby. But don't send anyone after courier," Aleksasha decided with a nod. "Thank you, Ser Turold and Antonello. I will ensure his grace receives this."
The men exchanged a glance and bowed. "Yes, your grace. We will find out and report to you in the morning."
"Good night." She nodded once more dismissing the guards before she walked away, the need for her to delay their patrol completed.
Aleksasha followed the path back towards the manor, her mind turning over her options regarding the letter. She could deliver the letter directly to Matias and deal with him and Selene again. Or she could open the letter addressed to the Duke.
The letter is addressed to Duke Volkov, not general Volkov. This means the letter is likely regarding a matter pertaining to the estate and not the war. The courier was in danger of capture from the sound of it. He did not linger or seek shelter here, meaning he did not want to endanger us further. But if this is a matter concerning the estate then I, as the duchess can open it.
She paused in the shadow of a grand oak tree, her fingers brushing the seal. She looked around and found herself alone, her curiosity itched. She slipped the letter from her shawl and broke the seal. She unfolded the parchment, softly biting her lower lip.
What manner of message is this that endangers the messenger to ride like hell is chasing him?
The writing on the letter didn't make sense. It was filled with numbers. She appraised it and recognized the starting sequence, she'd written it so many times herself.
This is our code. He suggested it as a way for us to pass the time together while we were apart. But why is this letter written in our cipher?
Her heart raced as she worked through the code, each number corresponding to a letter on a line in their favorite romance novel. It was a cumbersome thing she'd thought Matias would tire of after a few letters but he hadn't. For ten years, every letter they wrote to one another used this cipher to the point she had the entire book, numbers and all, memorized. In a few minutes she'd worked out the unsigned message.
"Urgent danger lies hidden within. Your trust misplaced. Not all who return are as they seem. Do not let the mask fool you. Watch the shadow that clings, for it will not hesitate to strike at your heart."
Her breath caught. Her brows furrowed as she held the parchment against her chest.
Their tone is sharp. It speaks of a traitor within Matias's ranks. Who is the shadow? What mask? Could it be a warning against Selene or someone else? Matias is a general, this could be a warning about a spy. But Matias is so private. Why would anyone else use this cipher and send it here?
One possibility came to her mind.
Did Matias use our code with this person to send to the estate so I could understand it? Why?
She looked up through the shadow boughs of the tree. The cold wind jostled her hair and caressed her skin, sending a soft shiver down her spine. Her hands trembled as she folded the letter and slipped it into her shawl. Her jaw clenched as she hurried back to the manor house.
Urgent danger lies hidden within. I can't ignore this. Matias needs to see this right away. Preoccupied or not, I will not be turned away.