My breath caught in my chest. “An alliance? With me?”

Leandro’s lips curved into a knowing smile. “Precisely,” he said, his tone smooth as polished glass. “You may not wield influence now, but soon you will. As Marchioness of Lorne, your power will rival that of the royal family. And power, Lady Luciana, attracts both allies and enemies. To survive what lies ahead, you’ll need the former.”

I knew he was right, but I also knew his offer wasn’t born from some altruistic desire to befriend me. Suspicion flared, my brows furrowing. “And what do you stand to gain from this alliance?”

For a moment, his expression softened, a flicker of something resembling admiration lighting his gaze. “I need your support to reinstate the Vesper Summits.”

My surprise betrayed me before I could mask it. “Reinstate the summit?” I repeated, disbelief slipping into my voice. “That decision lies with the King, not me.”

“True,” Leandro conceded with an easy nod, his eyes glinting with calculation. “But the King’s decisions are rarely his alone. They pivot on the counsel of his five advisors—each representing a powerful noble house. As it stands, the council is deadlocked: two against, two in favor, and one yet undecided.” He paused deliberately, his gaze locking onto mine like a predator waiting for its prey to falter. “Your help could sway the final vote.”

The pieces clicked into place, and my breath hitched. “The Marquess,” I said quietly.

“Exactly.” Victory gleamed in Leandro’s eyes, his gaze sharpening like a blade. He watched me, the weight of his scrutiny palpable as I processed the implications. “It’s refreshing,” he murmured, his voice a velvet tease, “to see how quickly your mind works.”

Straightening my posture, I met his smugness head-on, my pulse quickening more from defiance than fear. “Understanding your schemes is one thing,” I countered, my chin lifting. “Agreeing to them is another. What makes you think I hold any sway over the Marquess?”

Leandro began to pace slowly, his movements deliberate, his tone too casual. “You’ve been at the Kildare estate long enough to see how deeply the Marquess cherished your mother,” he said. “Even when Lady Brigid chose love over tradition, he never lost hope in her. That hope kept him from naming Alaric as his heir—a choice that shaped the future of his house.”

His words coiled around me like smoke, their detachment unsettling. Wrapping my arms around myself, I resisted the discomfort crawling beneath my skin, fueled by the realization that he saw my family’s history not as a tragedy, but as a tool.

“And now,” Leandro continued, his voice softening, “Lady Brigid is gone, and you—you are her living legacy. To him, you carry the weight of her dreams. You have far more influence over the Marquess than you realize.”

I lifted my gaze, locking eyes with him. “You’re suggesting I exploit my grandfather’s grief?” My voice cut through the space between us, sharp and unyielding.

Leandro halted, tilting his head with feigned innocence as a sly smile tugged at his lips. “Exploit is such an unkind word,” he said smoothly. “I’m merely pointing out what is evident to anyone observing. Since your arrival, the Marquess’s favor has been clear—favor Alaric could only dream of.”

My eyes narrowed, my tone biting. “Are these observations you’ve made, or manipulations you’ve set into motion, Your Highness?”

“Perceptions,” he corrected, the faintest chuckle lacing his words. “Nothing more.”

I took a steadying breath, my mind racing as I shifted tactics. “Fine,” I said evenly. “Let’s say I entertain this alliance of yours. Why should I care if the Vesper Summit is reinstated? What difference does it make to me?”

His eyes gleamed with something unreadable as he stepped closer, the space between us narrowing with deliberate intent. “Your words at lunch were revealing, Lady Luciana,” he said, his voice a low murmur that carried easily in the stillness of the library. “You spoke of fair trade with Elaris, of prioritizing another nation’s prosperity over personal profit.”

“Any decent person would want peace,” I shot back, my cheeks heating at the proximity of his presence.

“True,” he replied, a soft chuckle rumbling through him. “But not everyone would dare say such things openly—especially in the presence of royalty and counselors whose ambitions lie in the opposite direction.”

His gaze never wavered from mine, sharp and calculating. “Your courage to speak truth to power shows a wisdom beyond your years,” he continued, his voice softening as he leaned closer, his breath brushing against my cheek. The warmth was unsettling, a deliberate invasion of my thoughts. “That’s the spirit I seek in an ally.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere, Your Highness,” I countered, keeping my tone steady even as his proximity set my heart racing.

A faint smile tugged at his lips, a mixture of amusement and challenge. “You see the heart of the matter,” he said, stepping back just enough to meet my eyes fully. “You value peace over riches, negotiation over force. Admirable qualities—but not ones that will win you favor with those who profit from war. And when you become Marchioness, you’ll find such individuals are plentiful.”

I followed his gaze toward the high library windows, the light casting angular shadows across the room. His words lingered, colliding with my thoughts and stirring something restless within me.

“Having the support of the second prince could prove… advantageous,” Leandro said, his voice coaxing now, almost persuasive. “Asking your grandfather to support the summit is a small price to pay compared to what you stand to gain.”

He let the silence stretch, his gaze weighing my reaction as if it were a measure of my resolve. “And what assurance do I have,” I asked finally, my tone as measured as I could manage, “that aligning with you is in my best interest? Wouldn’t the future king be a more strategic ally?”

For a fleeting moment, his expression darkened, a flicker of irritation flashing across his features before he smoothed it away. “Perhaps,” he replied, his voice laced with faint sarcasm. “But given the Crown Prince’s alliance with Alaric, I doubt their circle would welcome you warmly.”

The truth of his words stung, a bitter taste of political reality settling on my tongue. Straightening, I met his gaze with defiance. “I’ll need time to consider this,” I said evenly, refusing to let him see the storm of doubt raging inside me.

“You have two months,” he replied, his tone resolute. “That’s when the Marquess is expected to cast his vote.”

“Two months?” I echoed, the disbelief clear in my voice. Could I truly sway the Marquess in so little time, especially with so much I didn’t yet understand about the Vesper Summits?

Leandro seemed to sense my hesitation, his lips curving into a knowing smile. “If you agree, you’ll have unrestricted access to this library,” he offered, gesturing toward the towering shelves around us. “Every document, every record on the summit—and more. All the knowledge you’ll need.”

His words hung heavily in the air, their weight undeniable. The chance to uncover the secrets of the summit, to delve into the arcane… but at what cost?

An attendant appeared then, emerging quietly from the shadows of the library. “My lady,” she said with a respectful bow, “the Marquess awaits you.”

I glanced once more at the shelves, the pull of their knowledge strong but not enough to keep me. I nodded, turning to follow the attendant. Leandro walked beside me, a silent shadow whose presence felt both protective and predatory.

As we approached the carriage, its emerald paint gleaming under the pale moonlight, I saw my grandfather in conversation with a knight whose armor bore the insignia of the King’s Order.

“That’s Sir Rhael,” Leandro said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Captain of the Knights Order.”

When we reached the carriage I saw Eamon standing by the carriage door. The moment that our eyes met I felt the tension in my shoulders ease. I hadn't even released how tightly wound I had become while speaking with Leandro.  He opened the door for me and extended his palm, but Prince Leandro was quick and stepped in front ome me, extending his hand with an air of unexpected gallantry. I accepted, allowing him to assist me inside.

“Thank you for the… tour,” I said, my tone laced with skepticism despite my polite words.

Leandro’s hand lingered a moment longer on mine, before he lifted it to his lips, his breath warm against my skin. His dark eyes met mine, brimming with a promise both dangerous and thrilling. “While you consider my proposal,” he murmured, his voice rich with intrigue, “I’ll do my best to show you why a ‘yes’ is in your favor.”

I pulled my hand away, pushing down the desire to grimace, keeping my face neutral.  “Your confidence, Your Highness,” I replied coolly, “is as misplaced as it is entertaining.”

He stepped back with a sly grin. “Confidence is simply the armor of those who understand the game, Lady Luciana. Weigh my offer carefully—your choice may very well shape the fate of the kingdom.”

I hesitated as I climbed into the carriage, turning back, I held his gaze, steeling myself. “Very well, Your Highness. But be warned—I am not easily swayed.”

Leandro’s laugh rang out, genuine and rich, a rare hint of unguarded amusement. “Ah, Lady Luciana, that’s precisely why I look forward to our next encounter.”

As the Marquess joined me in the carriage, nodding briefly to Leandro, I couldn’t shake the lingering thought that the prince was more dangerous than he let on.