Page 43

T he hackney rattled through the cobbled streets, its worn wheels creaking over uneven stones.

Sera clutched Alex’s arm, her damp gown a cold weight against her legs.

She was grateful for the cover of darkness as they approached Lady Ashford’s estate where the ball was still in full swing, telling from the soft glow of lit windows spilling onto the road ahead.

Somewhere beneath her exhaustion pulsed a ripple of nerves—what exactly would they find upon their return?

The carriage jerked to a stop, jolting her from her thoughts.

Alex descended first, his steady hands guiding her out, careful to keep her upright despite the ache in her limbs.

Sera lifted her tattered hem, glancing down at the mud caked around the skirts of her dress.

The sight reignited her shame, a hot flush creeping into her cheeks.

She hadn’t exactly envisioned her return to the ball like this.

Before she could dwell further, the side door of the estate swung open.

Ashley’s face appeared first, her expression of relief quickly melting into bemusement.

“Thank heavens,” she said, stepping forward.

“Do you both have any idea the stir you’ve caused?

And more importantly, what happened to your poor dress? ”

“Stan?” Alex said. “This is Prince… ahem… My brother.”

“Lady Ashley filled me in. Let’s keep the formalities for later. Come inside. There’s a crisis only you can address,” the man said.

Sera recognized him. He looked like Alex, with darker hair. He was the man she’d seen. It all came together now.

But there was no moment lost on idle thoughts.

Ashley all but dragged them through the servants’ staircase and upstairs.

Prince Stan followed behind her, his tall frame momentarily blocking the light.

“Lady Ashley’s been pacing,” he said with a grin.

“She practically wore a trail into the floor—and here I thought I’d seen everything. ”

Sera managed a shaky smile despite herself. Her dear friend, as unruffled as she seemed, swept into action like a polished team of accomplices with Alex’s brother.

“We’ll get you sorted. Trust me.” She shot Alex a pointed glance. “You, too.”

Prince Stan rolled his shoulders, gesturing for Alex to follow. “Come on, you’re tracking dirt all over the hallway.”

They hurried through a side passage into lavishly adorned quarters, where warm water waited in steaming basins.

Ashley fussed over Sera’s dress, muttering protests about the state of her once-pristine gown as she helped peel the damp fabric from her arms. Prince Stan returned with a clean cravat for Alex and a comb to tame his wild, wind-stiffened hair.

It wasn’t a complete transformation—they didn’t have time for that—but enough was done to make their return acceptable, if not entirely dignified. Ashley draped a shawl over Sera’s shoulders, a soft gray that subdued the remaining wrinkles in her borrowed dress.

“It’ll have to do,” she said quietly, smoothing the fabric down. Her tone softened. “You’ll be fine, you know. Together.”

Sera nodded, unsure what to say other than a whispered “Thank you.” A warmth settled in her chest at the sight of Ashley’s light-hearted wink.

By the time they stepped through the back entrance together—both slightly less ragged and a bit more presentable—the din of the ballroom filtered through heavy doors.

The sound pricked at her nerves, her heart thumping harder with each step closer to their re-entry.

Alex must have sensed it; his hand found hers as they reached the threshold.

And then, they were inside.

The ballroom glittered, every sconce and chandelier casting light over the elegantly dressed crowd.

Sera’s gloved hand rested in Alex’s, and despite the storm of unease that had brewed earlier in the evening, her heart felt oddly light.

Until the doors swung open, showing a wet, bedraggled valet in the center of the room.

“Him! See?” Mr. Brown pointed at Alex.

Gasps rippled across the crowd.

Mr. Brown’s coat clung to him like a second skin, dripping water onto the polished floor. He shouldn’t have been here at all—not in this state and certainly not with what he’d done. Conversation faltered and then hushed completely as all eyes turned toward the spectacle.

Sera’s cheeks burned as her father’s gaze locked on her and Alex, his expression darkening. Father wasn’t a man used to scandal, and this—this spectacle—was exactly that. He strode toward them, his boots clicking sharply on the marble floor, authority and fury in every step.

“What is the meaning of this?” he barked, his sharp eyes darting between Sera and Alex. “And what,” he added with a pointed glance at their joined hands, “is this?”

Sera tilted her chin, a spark of defiance flaring in her chest. She tightened her grip on Alex’s hand and smiled, far too sweetly. “My engagement ball, is it not? Shouldn’t I be allowed to hold my fiancé’s hand?”

Father stiffened, clearly torn between annoyance and disbelief. Before he could respond, the valet stumbled forward, his soaked boots scuffing against the floor as he pointed a trembling finger.

“They’ve done worse than holding hands,” he stammered loudly, eyes flicking nervously over the crowd, “at the beach in Cornwall!”

A collective gasp swept through the room. Sera’s mother froze mid-fan, then resumed fanning herself with renewed vigor.

“Sera!” she hissed, her voice sharp with feigned shock and disapproval.

Before Sera could speak, Ashley and the Earl of Linsey came to her side, their faces determined and reassuring.

“Is there a problem, Your Royal Highness?” Linsey asked smoothly, his arm brushing against Sera’s as if to shield her and his gaze fixed to Alex.

“Hardly a problem,” Alex said.

“Merely a… misstep in protocol,” Ashley added, her tone light but her gaze shrewd as it swept across the gathering.

The murmurs in the ballroom edged into an apprehensive quiet, every gaze fixed on her and Alex.

Sera could feel the weight of her father’s disapproval pressing down on her, his gaze sharp and unwavering.

The valet’s soaked figure, still dripping and shivering near the threshold, only added to the unbearable tension.

Her grip on Alex’s hand remained firm, her fingers curling tighter as her pulse hammered in her ears.

Alex drew himself up, his shoulders rigid. Sera braced herself for another reprimand—she could see it brewing in the hard set of his jaw. But instead, the valet spoke, his trembling voice barely disguising the fear vibrating in every syllable.

“I need to say my piece,” he stammered, his eyes darting anxiously around the room before they landed briefly on her. “I—I beg your forgiveness, Your Highness.”

Sera’s chest tightened as the man directed his plea toward Alex.

Her gaze flicked to his face, but he gave no immediate reaction.

The valet forged ahead, his words a frantic tumble.

“I threatened your love. Instead of seeing what was growing between you two, I acted out of fear—and jealousy.” He paused, swaying slightly before steadying himself.

“von List has my wife. I didn’t know—if I’d known what my meddling could bring, the danger it could cause, I would never have done it. ”

Sera caught her breath, the air around her suddenly stifling.

The valet’s confession filled her with unease, a crawling sensation under her skin.

She tried to read her father’s expression, but his face remained closed, the weight of their shared family responsibility heavy in the stern lines of his features.

Thomas shifted beside her, his presence solid and unmoving. His voice cut through the suffocating silence like the crack of a whip. “You cannot expect to face no consequences after threatening the lives of a—”

“Enough.” Alex’s voice interrupted, firm and steady.

Sera’s stomach clenched at the sound of it.

Alex released her hand gently and stepped forward, his posture commanding the gathered onlookers’ attention.

His words, though calm, carried an authority that left no room for argument. “I’ll hear him out.”

The valet exhaled harshly, his hands trembling at his sides as he continued. “von List… von List is trying to stop this union,” he said, his voice quieter now but filled with a plea. “He wants the Lyndon fleet. Your family’s ships, Miss Lyndon—he would take them with no regard for the cost.”

Sera’s heart sank, a cold dread pooling in her chest at the mention of her family’s fleet. She felt her father’s sharp gaze on her once more, and when she looked at him, she thought—impossibly—that something like regret softened his features, though he masked it quickly.

Father straightened his back, his voice low, but weighted. “Sera—forgive me,” he said. “I did not mean to risk your life for this alliance. If you do not wish to continue—”

“I do.” She said the words quickly, interrupting him before she could think better of it.

Her voice, though steady, sounded distant to her own ears.

She turned back to Alex, their hands interlinked again as she met his unwavering gaze.

His presence filled her with a steadiness she hadn’t realized she needed.

Her next words came with more conviction. “I do.”

Her father’s sigh broke the silence, a heavy sound of resignation that filled the room.

He hesitated briefly, then gave a slight nod, almost imperceptible, toward Alex.

“A clean break will suffice,” he said. “A truce between our families.” The formality of his words couldn’t hide the subtle resignation settled into his expression.

Without waiting for Sera’s reply, he turned to her, extending his hand with an unspoken intent.