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As Maisie finished her riding lesson, the excitement was practically buzzing around her. As she dismounted Flash with a grin that could light up the entire estate, she raced over to Yvette, her small hands gripping the reins of her pony tightly.

“Did you see?” Maisie beamed, eyes wide with delight. “I rode Flash without being scared! Just like Papa!”

Yvette’s heart swelled with pride as she clapped her hands.

“I saw, and I am very proud of you, Maisie. You did wonderfully.”

Maisie’s face lit up at the praise, her small chest puffing with pride. She turned quickly, seeking Killian’s attention, the way a child always does for approval.

Killian, standing nearby, met her gaze with a rare soft smile, nodding approvingly.

“Good job, Maisie,” he said, his voice warm but firm. “Now, go on to yer chamber and get ready for breakfast.”

“Thank you, Papa!”

Yvette watched as Maisie scampered off—a smile on her face—but her lips twisted slightly at the abruptness with which Killian had dismissed her.

It wasn’t that Maisie had done anything wrong; in fact, she’d done incredibly well. But the way her excitement was cut short struck Yvette with a sharp pang of discomfort.

She shook her head; this was Killian’s nature.

The afternoon wore on, and Yvette sat in the drawing room with a book in her hands, its pages almost forgotten as she turned them with a distracted air.

Her thoughts were elsewhere, wandering back to Maisie and her father. The girl was so eager to win her father’s approval, and Yvette could see the lengths she would go to gain it.

Just as Yvette was beginning to lose herself to the swirling thoughts, the door to the drawing room opened quietly.

Yvette looked up from her book to find Maisie standing in the doorway, her small figure hesitant, her gaze flicking nervously between Yvette and the space inside the room.

“Is it all right if I stay here, Yvette?” Maisie asked, her voice soft but steady.

Yvette’s heart softened immediately, and she set her book down, her eyes meeting Maisie’s.

She nodded with a smile. “Of course, Maisie. You’re welcome to stay.”

The little girl’s face broke into a relieved smile as she shuffled over to the table, settling herself with a few sheets of paper and a small box of colored pencils.

Yvette watched her for a moment, her heart warming further as she noticed how Maisie seemed so intent on her task, focusing on the paper in front of her. There was something endearing about how absorbed she was, her brow furrowed in concentration as she drew.

Curiosity piqued, Yvette leaned forward slightly, her voice gentle. “What are you drawing, Maisie?”

Maisie didn’t look up, her small hands moving in swift, confident strokes as she spoke, her voice quiet but assured.

“You.”

Yvette’s heart skipped at the words, a tender warmth spreading through her chest. She had not expected that, and she recognized how important this moment was.

For a moment, she simply watched the little girl work, her mind drifting to her own childhood, when her father had been everything to her.

The way he had always made her feel loved and special—until that fateful moment when everything had changed. When she had been betrayed by the very man she had trusted, the man who should have protected her from the cruelty of others.

Yvette had been young and naïve, and the hurt had nearly been unbearable. She had not known how to fight back, or how to make the world understand her truth.

A tear slipped down Yvette’s cheek, unexpected but undeniable.

She wiped it away quickly, hoping Maisie hadn’t noticed. The last thing she wanted was to burden the little girl with her own broken memories.

Killian had just returned from his visit to the site he was overseeing, his thoughts consumed by the many matters that needed his attention.