I didn't go to see Noachus. I couldn't. Not yet.
If I did, if I set things in motion too soon, I'd be walking straight into the same fate that had drowned María Georgiana six times before.
So, I forced myself to stay away.
Instead, I focused on my next move.
I needed to delay. I needed to keep everything exactly where it was for as long as possible.
Which meant I had to play the perfect daughter.
The next morning, I was dressed in layers of silk and lace before I even had the chance to protest. Claire fussed over my hair, ensuring that not a single strand was out of place, while Ambrielle supervised from the vanity, her sharp gaze assessing me like I was some kind of painting she wasn't quite satisfied with.
"You must make a good impression at court today," Claire murmured, smoothing out the folds of my gown. "If you embarrass yourself, there will be consequences."
"For you or for me?" I muttered.
Claire's hand tightened briefly on my shoulder, her nails pressing into my skin just enough to make her point.
"For all of us," she said coolly.
Right. Because my actions didn't just affect me—they affected the entire Salviari name.
Too bad I had no intention of going through with this marriage.
"Smile, dear," Ambrielle said, watching me in the mirror. "You look positively miserable."
"That's because I am."
"Well, pretend otherwise." She stood, fixing the lace on her sleeve. "We all have to play our parts."
My stomach twisted.
That was the problem.
I didn't know if I was supposed to be playing María Georgiana's part or rewriting the script altogether.
The palace was more extravagant than I remembered. Or, at least, more extravagant than María Georgiana had ever paid attention to.
Golden chandeliers dripped from the ceilings, casting a warm glow over polished marble floors. Every inch of the hall was decorated with tapestries, gilded moldings, and jewel-toned banners bearing the king's insignia.
It was designed to impress. To intimidate.
And it worked.
The moment I stepped inside, all eyes turned to me.
"The Lady Salviari," the steward announced.
I lifted my chin, ignoring the way my hands trembled.
A sea of nobles murmured as I passed, their whispers brushing against me like unseen hands.
"She looks pale."
"I heard she tried to run away."
"What a scandal."
"The king must be furious."
I clenched my fists beneath the folds of my gown, my nails digging into my palms.
Let them talk. Let them think I was fragile, delicate, a disgrace to the crown.
The less they expected from me, the better.
At the end of the hall, Severinus Duval III sat upon his throne.
He looked… young. Younger than I'd expected. No older than his late twenties, with dark, curling hair and a sharp, regal jawline. His eyes—deep and calculating—landed on me with cold precision.
I curtsied, lowering my gaze.
"Your Majesty."
"Rise," he said.
I obeyed, keeping my expression carefully neutral.
For a long moment, he simply studied me.
Then, finally, he spoke.
"You are not what I expected."
I forced a soft, demure smile. "I hope that is not a disappointment, my lord."
"No," he said. "Merely an… intrigue."
Something in his tone sent a shiver down my spine.
He wasn't just looking at me—he was reading me, peeling back the layers with each passing second.
And I couldn't let him see too much.
"I am honored to be here," I said, keeping my voice smooth. "It is my greatest wish to serve my kingdom."
Lie. A well-practiced lie.
Severinus's lips curled, as if he could sense the falsehood beneath my words.
"We shall see."
A servant approached, offering him a goblet of wine. He took it, leaning back in his throne.
"I have heard rumors," he mused. "That you have been… difficult."
I stiffened.
"Unruly," he continued. "Disobedient."
His eyes glinted as he took a sip of his drink.
"Do you intend to be a difficult wife, Lady Salviari?"
The court fell silent, waiting for my response.
I inhaled slowly.
"I intend to be a loyal wife, my lord," I said smoothly. "If I am given reason to be."
The room tensed.
Someone gasped. Claire, standing off to the side, looked like she was about to faint.
Severinus set down his goblet, amusement flickering across his face.
"A challenge, then."
I swallowed. "Not a challenge, my lord. A truth."
He held my gaze. A dangerous silence stretched between us.
Then, to my surprise, he laughed.
It was not a warm laugh.
It was low, measured. The kind of laugh a predator might give before sinking its teeth into its prey.
"You amuse me, María Georgiana," he said. "I believe I shall enjoy taming you."
I fought the urge to flinch.
"I am honored, my lord," I said instead.
Severinus smirked. "You will stay at court until the wedding. I wish to observe you further."
My stomach dropped.
At court.
That meant I wouldn't be at home. I wouldn't be able to see Noachus.
Had I just made a mistake?
Had I stalled too well?
"Yes, my lord," I murmured.
As the court shifted around me, as conversations resumed and the tension broke, I felt something cold slither down my spine.
Severinus was watching me like a cat watches a caged bird.
And suddenly, for the first time, I wondered—Had I just trapped myself?
Because the moment I stepped into the grand hall, I knew I had made a mistake.
King Severinus sat on his throne, his sharp gaze settling on me with an air of possession. The room was filled with courtiers, all dressed in their finest silks, but the weight of his stare made them nothing more than background noise.
I forced myself to keep my back straight, my chin high, just as María Georgiana would have done. But inside, every nerve in my body screamed at me to run.
I was about to leave when the King called me.
"Come forward," he commanded.
My stomach twisted, but I obeyed.
The closer I got, the clearer his features became—the cold, calculating eyes, the thin lips pressed into a firm line, the air of someone who saw people as nothing more than chess pieces to be moved at will.
"I trust you have come to your senses," he said smoothly.
I hesitated. "Your Majesty?"
He gestured for one of the servants, who stepped forward and poured wine into an ornate goblet. Severinus took it, then regarded me with something that might have been amusement.
"You seem to have forgotten your place, fiancée." He said the word like it was a leash around my throat.
I swallowed hard. "I—I have not forgotten."
He took a slow sip of his wine. "Then you will prove it."
A chill crept down my spine.
"Tomorrow, we will make a formal announcement of our engagement," he continued. "And you will do exactly as you are told."
The room was silent. No one dared to move, not even Claire, who stood stiffly at my side.
My nails dug into my palm. My throat tightened.
I had spent the past few days trying to stall, trying to change fate.
But this—this moment, standing before a man who would never love me, who saw me as nothing more than a means to an end—this was the moment I realized I had been wrong.
I didn't need more time.
I needed to escape.
That night, I sat at my vanity, staring at my reflection.
The girl in the mirror was dressed in gold, her dark curls pinned into an elaborate crown of braids. She looked… regal. Trapped.
"You will stay at court."
I gritted my teeth.
No.
I would not stay here.
I would not let this become my fate.
Slowly, I reached beneath my pillow, pulling out the diary.
The worn pages fell open beneath my fingers.
March 21st, 1880
"It is time."
"Claire will keep Father distracted while Noachus and I slip away. By sunrise, we will be free."
"I know the risks. I know what will happen if we are caught. But I must try. If I do not leave tonight, there will be no escape. The wedding will be my prison. And the river—"
"The river waits for me."
"I will not let it have me again."
My breath hitched.
This was it.
I had been stalling, delaying, trying to change history without taking action.
But now?
Now, I had to act.
What If I had to follow the diary.
Because if I didn't… I would never escape.
There are no other ways.