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“Risk?” Sera interrupted sharply, both flustered and indignant. “You make it sound as though there’s only one. There are many, I suppose, but no matter the risk, I shall face them all.”

The words spilled out too quickly, a little too defensive.

She could hardly voice it outright, but she felt the weight of Ashley’s question settle in, igniting something unfamiliar, something that had been lingering.

Was it possible? The very notion made her breath hitch slightly, though she managed to mask it behind her open fan.

Had she been reckless?

Or perhaps she’d been only truthful, acting with heart and body alike, refusing to deny herself even the smallest taste of happiness.

But—Sera blinked, her thumb tracing the edge of her glove—if she was carrying Alex’s child…

could this not bring her the strength she needed?

The prince’s titles and fortune were naught; they would live with no secrets between them, not if Alex shared that future with her.

Before Ashley could respond, Thomas emerged from behind one of the hedgerows, his hair slightly disheveled and his grin as insufferable as always. “There you are!” he declared, with mock indignation. “I’ve been looking for you. How could the hostess vanish from her own party?”

Ashley spun on him with an exaggerated sigh. “I disappeared because the host was still there!” She slapped her forehead with her hand. “Now we have to return together, or else people will think…”

“Abandoning your fiancé so publicly only to return ruffled from the garden,” he teased, laughter threading his words, “how indecent.”

Ashley huffed. “It’s not abandonment if it’s for a friend, Thomas! We are having a think.”

“You’re having a think. Is that something one can have in this heat?” Thomas raised an eyebrow, entirely unoffended.

“Does it make you sweat if women gather to think?”

He cocked his head and then flattened his lips. “Sweating, you say?”

Sera found herself smiling despite her spinning thoughts. But as Ashley fired back another quip, Thomas pointedly turned his gaze toward her, mischief glinting in his eye. “And what about you two? Just the same? Sweating… Ahem… thinking here in the garden?”

That earned a laugh from the three of them, light and unburdened. Still, the shift in conversation gave Sera the space she needed to bow out, mentally if not physically. Ashley’s earlier warning lingered like a shadow beneath the afternoon glow.

Risk? Oh, yes, there was risk. But as her fingers found her midsection and her chest rose and fell with steadier breaths, she knew one thing for certain. Courage would follow, as surely as desire had, and she would face anything for Alex. Even a prince.

Ashley scoffed. “Men perspire, while ladies merely glisten.”

Sera laughed at that.

“Oh!” Ashley suddenly exclaimed, pointing to the pond where a boat glided around the bend.

The oars caught the light as they sliced through the water, each stroke steady and unhurried.

The sight made her heart spike briefly—not out of joy, but closer to unfathomable anticipation, the kind that pressed against her ribs and made her want to fold in on herself.

Sera blinked.

What was this feeling? Because of a boat?

She must be losing her faculties!

Twisting her neck, she craned for a better view of the boatman steering the small craft, but the sun behind him blurred his figure.

She drew the open fan up to her lips and allowed the parasol to tilt low, obscuring half her face.

A quick glance at the tea tables confirmed that no one else had seen it. Was the boatman lingering?

“Who is that?”

“I’m not sure,” Ashley murmured.

“It should be one of the guests,” Thomas replied softly.

“Thank you for stating the obvious, darling,” Ashley shot back.

Tucking her parasol under one arm, she squinted and smoothed her skirts before stepping deeper into the shade of the willow.

The boat drifted closer, cutting a soft line through the glassy surface.

She knew better than to entertain thoughts of who might be on board.

And yet, her breath caught, and her gloved fingers curled into the fabric of her parasol.

For some reason, along with this peculiar anticipation, she wanted, no, needed to see who was on that boat.

“Come,” she said to Ashley, making a quick decision. “Let’s go to the tent.”

*

The crowd pressed in too closely for Alex’s liking, each murmured conversation skimming the edges of his attention, while his siblings gestured toward their target—a man standing smugly by the refreshment table.

Baron Wilhelm von List, the Prussian snake poised to wrap himself around a victim and suffocate them.

And as if that weren’t enough, von List would break every bone or send his lackeys to do the damage—just as they had tried with Stan.

It was easy to see why his brother and sister suspected him of duplicity—perhaps even crime like the Earl of Langley.

They were probably all right. von List’s smile didn’t warm his eyes, and the aura of self-satisfaction hung around him like a fog.

Why and how that man managed to infiltrate every special event in town was a mystery—but not one Alex cared to unravel.

And just who had invited him?

Was the Earl of Chaswick ignorant or an ally?

But then, it was his daughter he’d met at Langley’s. Still, no one could be ruled out as an accomplice or mole.

Whatever the case, Alex held little hope that mingling among the garden guests would yield anything of value against von List. Finer espionage had been required of him during his years in the Navy, and now he found himself reduced to eavesdropping on a man pouring lemonade.

He bit back the flicker of irritation and crossed the lawn, his polished boots brushing against the edge of a rosebush.

von List caught sight of him, a smirk twitching on his lip in mock friendliness. “Ah, Prince Alexander von Hohenzollern-Sigmaringen, nicht wahr ?” Isn’t it ?

Ah, he tested his German.

Very well.

“ Jawohl, Herr Baron. Doch leider wartet jemand auf mich.” Indeed, baron. But unfortunately, I’m expected.

“ Ach ein T?chtel-m?chetel im geheimen Garten bevor man Ihnen die Braut ins Bett legt. Sehr gewitzt, Eure Hoheit.” Ah, a tryst in the secret garden before your bride’s put in your bed. Very clever, Your Royal Highness.

Alex tasted acid and couldn’t extricate himself soon enough.

Apparently, von List didn’t think much of women, fidelity, or any virtues except those that could enrich him. Stan had been right when he’d said that von List was the sort of aristocrat who gave all nobility a bad name.

Alex ignored the deliberate pause, maintaining his tone at a steady level. “Baron von List.” He edged closer, forcing himself to embody every inch of the polished gentleman. “You seem to enjoy these gatherings. I suppose there’s much to be said for good company.”

von List chuckled like a hyena, though the sound was devoid of humor. “Good company, Your Royal Highness, is a rarity these days. Too many people are showing interest where their interest doesn’t belong. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Alex’s jaw tightened. The implication was clear—von List had noticed his and Stan’s careful scrutiny. But how like him to not practice what he preached.

“Some might argue that curiosity is best embraced,” Alex countered, his voice deceptively light. “Especially when there’s something worth uncovering.”

For a moment, the corners of von List’s mouth curled downward, his sharp gaze flaring with obvious discomfort.

Then, just as quickly, his grin returned.

“How bold of you. The Navy must have trained you well. I’ll leave you to enjoy the afternoon.

I prefer mine free of… distractions.” He tipped his hat with a mocking air before sauntering off across the lawn.

Alex exhaled sharply, anger simmering beneath his skin.

He hated when men like von List spoke in riddles, with veiled threats that left little room for retort without causing a scene.

Thus, he turned away. The quaint garden party, with its pastel dresses, summer blooms, and polished elegance, had become entirely unbearable.

He craved fresh air—no, open water. That was where he could think.

The path toward the pond stretched out before him, the chatter of the party fading behind the low hum of the breeze and insects. The surface of the pond mirrored the sky, a stretch of glass inviting him closer.

Close enough.

The wooden skiff at the water’s edge waited, tethered to a post. Alex kicked off his boots, urgency to cast off replacing his earlier irritation.

He shed his coat and waistcoat, unfastened his cuffs, and rolled his sleeves to his elbows.

As he followed suit with his breeches, each movement liberating him from the constricting trappings of land, he stepped into the skiff, his bare feet rocking slightly with the boat’s sway.

The oar in his hand brought a familiar comfort, the kind only the rhythm of water against wood could offer.

Setting the oars to the surface, Alex rowed, his strokes deliberate and steady.

The tightness in his chest eased gradually as the boat glided farther into the pond’s calm expanse.

For a while, it was enough to move—to feel the pull and plunge, the control in his hands as he maneuvered across the pond. But as he skimmed the edge of the tree line, something caught his eye.

A woman.

Distant and still, her silhouette partially obscured by a willow.

She wore a bonnet, shadowing her features, but something about the tilt of her head and the curve of her shoulders beneath the parasol struck a chord deep inside.

The fine hairs on the back of his neck prickled, an almost instinctual awareness that defied reason.

Sera.

It couldn’t be her.

Yet, every fiber of every nerve insisted otherwise.

He adjusted his grip on the oar, trying to guide the boat closer, but the woman shifted, vanishing behind the hanging branches of the willow.

Just when he thought he could see her face, she turned and disappeared under a parasol.

His frustration mounted, the possibility of her presence only fueling his need to confront the truth.

It wasn’t her.

He was losing his head, apparently, seeing Sera in others.

He missed her. This entire day had been a failure.

He wanted to leave. He wanted to find Sera.

If possible, before their meeting. Only then would he feel relieved.

Alex rowed back, set the boat aside, and went to find his brother and sister.

Striding back toward the gathered guests, his siblings waited near the pavilion, their eyes watchful.

He ignored their questioning looks as he approached.

“I’m finished with von List,” Alex declared curtly. “But I want answers about Sera.” His gaze was fixed on the worn map spread across the table, but his thoughts were far from the inked lines of streets and alleyways.

Stan leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, his brow lifting. “I’ll ask my contacts. What’s her whole name and address?”

Alex stiffened slightly, his jaw tightening.

A name.

An address.

Details he didn’t have. Not yet. He thought he’d known everything that mattered.

The way her laugh sounded softer when she wasn’t trying to impress him.

How her eyes searched for meaning, or how her voice carried this unshakable undercurrent of strength, even when she doubted it herself.

Wasn’t that enough? He knew who she was—at least, the most important parts of her.

Thea arched an unimpressed eyebrow, her fan resting against the edge of the table. “Tell us everything you know about her,” she said, her tone sharp enough to slice through Alex’s silence.

The only words that tumbled out were, “I love her.” Words he could no longer keep sealed away. He glanced at his sister, then at Stan, daring them to challenge him. “With all my heart. And I need to keep her safe.”

Thea huffed softly, though her frown deepened. “You’re awfully worried about a girl whose name you don’t even know.”

Stan laughed, leaning forward now. “That’s rich, Alex. Didn’t think you falling in love would make me hunt shadows.”

Alex’s grip tightened on the edge of the table, his knuckles pale against the dark wood.

Their words stung, but only because he knew they were right.

Yet, it didn’t matter, not to him. All that mattered was that Sera was safe.

von List’s presence made him edgy. He didn’t like it.

The gnawing knot in his chest tightened further.

If he couldn’t find her, midnight at Vauxhall would truly be his only chance.

“What if von List finds her before we can?” he said finally, his voice breaking through the charged silence. “What if she’s already in danger? I wouldn’t even know where to look. If we can’t act quickly enough—” His throat closed off, the thought too bitter to finish.

Neither Thea nor Stan interrupted. For all their teasing, they weren’t blind to Alex’s open plight.

He shook his head and exhaled hard, steadying himself as the weight of his own words settled.

“Make inquiries discreetly,” he said firmly.

“If she’s anywhere near this mess, I won’t—no, I can’t—allow her to be pulled into it. ”

The siblings exchanged a glance, and Thea said, “Don’t worry too much, brother. If you don’t know her full name, neither would von List.”

Alex didn’t know whether to laugh or grit his teeth. Thea was right. But tell that to his heart.

“Don’t worry,” Stan said, too. “We’ll keep von List occupied.”

“Good, because what happens to her, happens to me.”

Thea folded her fan, her frown deepening before she rose. Stan followed suit, giving Alex a faint grin that didn’t reach his eyes. They understood the gravity of his words. When Alex spoke like this, with an unrelenting resolve that turned his voice into stone, there was no room for debate.

For Alex, the villain wasn’t the greatest danger here. It was losing Sera—that she could fade from his life as easily as she’d slipped into it.

He would bow to duty in most things.

Some things, never.

This was one.