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Maisie let out an excited squeal, clapping her hands together as she tugged Yvette toward the nearby sitting area.

“It’s going to beperfect!” she declared, her voice ringing with joy.

As they settled into the sitting area, Maisie eagerly detailed her plan. Her small hands gestured animatedly as she described a special drawing she had been working on—a portrait of her father she wanted to present.

“I made it extra special with flowers around the edges,” Maisie explained proudly. “Papa likes flowers, even if he doesn’t say so.”

Yvette couldn’t help but smile at the sweetness of the gesture. “That sounds absolutely wonderful. I am certain he’ll love it.”

Maisie’s face lit up even brighter. “You really think so?”

“I know so,” Yvette said and gently cupped Maisie’s cheek.

Yvette’s palms were slick with sweat as she paced in front of Killian’s study door. Her heart drummed in her chest with an intensity she couldn’t ignore, and despite the cool air in the hallway, her skin felt unnervingly warm.

She could barely comprehend the swirl of thoughts racing through her mind. How had she allowed herself to be swept into this—helping Maisie to surprise Killian?

It had seemed harmless at first, a small favor she could do for a young girl. But now, Yvette wondered if she had made a terrible mistake.

Since that searing kiss they had shared, Killian had become a ghost in their home, vanishing into his work during the day, and slipping out of Braemore Castle in the dead of night, as though he were trying to escape her—or something else.

Yvette sighed, pressing her hand against her forehead as she tried to steady her thoughts.

No. Now was not the time to think of that.

There was something more pressing to do, something that could no longer be ignored. She had made a promise to Maisie, and Maisie was waiting. The young girl had placed her trust in her, and despite the strange distance between her and Killian, Yvette intended to keep that promise.

With one final breath to calm her nerves, she knocked firmly on Killian’s study door.

There was no answer.

Yvette frowned. She had expected at least the sound of him moving around, the rustling of papers, or even a dismissive grunt from within. But nothing.

She knocked again, this time a little louder. Still no response. Her frown deepened, and confusion crept into her chest. Killian was never unreachable, even when he was buried in work.

Her brow furrowed as she placed her hand on the doorknob. It turned easily, and with a slight push, the door creaked open.

The desk was covered in papers, but there was no sign of Killian. He wasn’t here.

A sense of unease settled over Yvette as she stepped back into the hallway. She glanced at the door of his chambers and decided to try there next.

With a soft knock, she waited for his response, but there was nothing. No voice calling out to her, no sign of him. His chambers were empty, just as the study had been.

Now, her confusion bloomed into full-blown worry. Killian was always steady, so predictable in his habits, but suddenly he was nowhere to be found.

Where was he?

Frustration bubbled beneath her skin, and she spun around, heading toward the living room in search of someone who might know where he had gone. Her mind was flooded with possibilities, none of them making any sense.

It was then that she bumped into Mrs. Calloway, who had appeared as if by fate, just when she needed her most.

“Good morning, Your Grace,” Mrs. Calloway greeted, her voice warm with familiarity.

She smiled up at Yvette, though there was a touch of knowing in her eyes that Yvette couldn’t quite place.

“Is everything well?”

Yvette forced a polite smile, though her impatience was beginning to show.