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“H ow could you slip away like that?”

Sera flinched at her mother’s demand, her sharp voice cutting through the carriage as they made their way home. She adjusted the folds of her gown, smoothing the muslin over her lap, and braced herself for the impending scolding.

Isabella, seated beside her, offered no support, only sending her a smile that seemed to shout, “This is what you get for slipping away.”

“Do you have no concern for your safety?” her mother insisted.

Sera sighed. “Mama, this is Cornwall. What should I be afraid of?”

Her expression could have shaken the heavens. “Don’t give me that! No matter where you are, a woman alone and without a chaperone is in danger! If you are not physically harmed, what about your reputation? Besides, you’ve been acting strangely lately.”

Sera straightened in her seat, her fingers smoothing the folds of her gown. “I simply needed a moment to myself,” she said, her voice calm but brittle. “Shopping for things I’ll never choose, for a life I didn’t ask for, is hardly entertainment, Mother.”

Her mother’s gloved hand landed sharply against her lap.

“And what exactly do you think your life would be if it weren’t for our sacrifices?

You’re destined for dignity and comfort—you’ll be a princess, Sera.

” Though her tone was laced with frustration, there was something more beneath it: a crack of doubt, quickly hidden.

“Do you even realize how fortunate you are to escape the marriage mart? To not be paraded around Almack’s as a commodity like so many other girls? ”

“Fortunate,” Sera echoed, her lips pressed together as she stared out the window.

The crowded streets outside blurred together.

“And what exactly am I fortunate to gain? A title? A man I’ve never even met?

Do you know anything about him except for the glitter of his crown?

” She paused, then turned to meet her mother’s gaze, her voice steady even as her chest tightened with each word.

“Do you even know if he’s kind? If he cares? Or is that too much to ask?”

“Na?ve, as always,” her mother replied, her tone heavy with reproach. “Men and kindness rarely coexist, darling. Don’t judge others based on your father. Marriage isn’t about love or dreams—it’s about permanence. Stability. Do you understand what safety that brings?”

Sera felt her sister Isabella’s gaze shift to her, a flicker of discomfort crossing her face. But Isabella said nothing, the usual amusement she found in these exchanges absent.

“You speak of safety as if it’s a gift wrapped with a bow,” Sera said, her voice softening.

“But safety isn’t chains. It isn’t a gilded box I’m shoved into because it’s easier for everyone else.

You expect me to be grateful and not question any of it, but how can I feel grateful when every choice is made for me?

When I don’t even have the right to say ‘no’? ”

“This is supposed to be better than Almack’s, not worse.” Isabella’s laughter briefly broke the tension, light yet uneasy. “Always so dramatic, Sera,” she teased, though it lacked her usual warmth and sharpness.

“Don’t encourage her, Isabella!” her mother snapped, visibly rattled as she turned back to Sera. “And we will not burden your father with these tantrums. Do you think we did this lightly? That we didn’t think of your future?”

Sera’s jaw tightened, her voice dangerously even as she pulled her hand free from her mother’s pointed grasp. “You thought about my future only in the way it benefits the family. You didn’t ask what I wanted. You never bothered to ask.”

“It will benefit you. Then your sister. And it gives us all stability. Is that such a bad thing?” Her mother’s expression faltered, if only for a second, but she quickly recovered.

“And what would you have us ask, Sera? What fairy tale would you like to live in? This is real life. You have responsibilities, just as we all do. And every family member has to contribute in their capacity.”

Sera leaned back, her head resting against the cushioned seat. She had no strength left to argue, to press against walls that would never move. “I don’t want a fairy tale, Mother. I only want the chance to choose. Is that too much to ask?”

For a moment, silence filled the carriage, tension pressing harder against the fragile truce between them.

Isabella shifted uncomfortably, glancing between their mother and Sera, seemingly unsure where her loyalties should lie.

Her mother sat stiffly, her lips pursed as she stared straight ahead, but she didn’t answer.

Sera’s mood darkened at the mention of her upcoming marriage, her lips pressing into a thin line. “Why should Father be anxious? I’m the one marrying the prince, not him.”

“Yes, but you are the one worrying him with your lack of interest! Not to mention giving me heart palpitations with your reckless behavior. You put everything on the line when you disappear as you did today.”

Sera snorted softly, earning herself another glare. “I never asked to be betrothed to a prince, Mama. I’d be happy to marry a pauper if only he loved me.”

“Do not say such blasphemous things! It’s nonsense!” Her mother clutched at her pearls as if her daughter’s words had physically struck her, and Sera sighed.

“What else am I supposed to do when I’m being forced into a marriage I don’t want?”

“This is your duty, Seraphina. Your marriage will elevate the entire family.” And plunge her into a lifetime of misery.

“Do not sugarcoat the truth, Mother. I am a sacrifice for a greater cause—and that’s business.”

“Seraphina!”

“It’s no use feigning affront at the truth.” A moot notion, but hypocrisy was ever so useful in discussing matters of Society. Her mother’s sharp eyes suddenly fixed on Sera’s chin. Then lower.

“What is that mark on your neck?”

Sera’s brows furrowed as she reached up to touch her throat. “I don’t know,” she replied, though her heart had begun a steady gallop in her chest as her memory sparked.

Isabella, always too curious for her own good, leaned closer and gasped. “What a curious shape!” She fished a small pocket mirror from her reticule and thrust it toward Sera.

Taking it reluctantly, Sera tilted the mirror to get a better look.

There, just below her jawline, off to the side, was the faint shadow of what could only be described as a scandal!

Her pulse quickened as she recalled the way Alex left a trail of kisses to that spot, burrowing his face and lips there.

Sera applauded her calm as she said, “I must have been bitten by a bug.” A very large, handsome bug.

“A bug?” Isabella pulled a face. “What kind of bug leaves that sort of mark?”

“A gnat,” Sera quipped, forcing herself to sound bored rather than flustered. “And an overzealous one, it seems.” She handed the mirror back to her sister.

“What an unfortunate place to be bitten,” her mother said with a deep scowl. “You should cover your neck for a few days. It’s a rather unsightly mark.”

Sera didn’t share that opinion. She quite liked the mark from Alex. It made her feel claimed by him for the world to see, as if she belonged to him in a way that was uniquely hers.

“It’s just a small mark, Mama. Bug bites aren’t contagious,” Sera reassured her. “It will disappear in a day or so.”

But her mother would have none of it. “A day or two is too long! What if someone else saw it and misunderstood?”

Sera wanted to ask her mother why anyone would misunderstand, but she held back. Such topics shouldn’t be discussed in front of Isabella anyway, even if she only wanted to tease her mother.

“No one saw me… ahem… it… the bug biting me,” Sera winced at her own incredulity about the explanation. “And if they did, they probably didn’t care. I’m not some precious jewel to be locked away.”

Her mother’s lips thinned. “You are a jewel, Sera, whether you care to admit it or not. You are betrothed to a prince, and every move you make reflects on his household—and ours. You are my daughter, and you will always be precious. You and Isabella are my most valued jewels.”

“If this is about reputation, I suggest we worry more about folks talking about my cold feet than my gnat bite.”

Her mother gasped again, clutching her chest as though she might faint. “Cold feet? What on earth are you talking about?”

“Do you really think I’m excited about marrying a man I’ve scarcely met? Anyone who looks at me properly could tell.” She shook her head. “This is no fairy tale, Mama. It’s a contract. A transaction. I’m being sold.”

“Sold? Don’t be ridiculous. You’re being secured a prosperous future. I don’t want to hear any more about cold feet or reluctance. And if you can’t muster excitement, at least manage decorum. You’re marrying the prince, and that’s final.”

Sera bit back the retort bubbling on her tongue, her gaze darting to Isabella, who was watching them with wide eyes. Her sister squeezed her hand.

Sera returned the squeeze. At least she had her sister on her side, so she didn’t feel entirely alone. “Whatever Mama wishes.”

Her mother huffed but said nothing further, and the carriage fell into a tense silence.

Sera’s thoughts drifted back to the encounter that had put her in this predicament: his blond hair curling against his neck, soft lips sending shivers racing down her spine. She shouldn’t have let him get so close.

It was dangerous.

She certainly shouldn’t have allowed him to kiss her neck. But she was the one who instigated that encounter. And yet… her fingers brushed the mark once more, and a small, secret smile curved her lips… She couldn’t quite bring herself to regret it.

But one question remained startlingly clear in her mind: could a merchant’s daughter betrothed to a prince truly change her fate?

*

“What happened to you?” The valet’s skepticism echoed in the hotel room. “Was there a storm that swept through Cornwall that I didn’t hear about?”