Chapter 137: The Invitation

Chapter 137: Chapter 137: The Invitation

Marian stared at the invitation.

Then at the dress laid neatly across her bed.

Then back at the invitation.

Neither object improved upon closer inspection.

The Season officially opened that evening.

This information failed to inspire enthusiasm.

Marian considered not attending.

Briefly.

Then for considerably longer than was strictly appropriate.

Unfortunately, refusing to attend would create questions.

Attending would also create questions.

The latter option was marginally less annoying.

Which was the only reason she had not yet instructed someone to invent a convenient illness.

A folded letter rested beside her jewelry box.

Marian’s gaze drifted toward it automatically.

Then narrowed.

The letter remained entirely innocent.

Marian knew better.

The latest letter from Cassian had arrived two days ago.

She had already read it several times.

A completely reasonable number of times.

Probably.

The final page remained particularly troublesome.

Not because it contained anything important.

Quite the opposite.

The entire page consisted of observations that served no practical purpose whatsoever.

A complaint regarding terrible tea.

An argument with a horse.

A detailed explanation of why he strongly disliked being away from her.

Marian had reread that particular section several times.

Purely for research purposes.

Obviously.

Her maid entered.

One glance at Marian.

One glance at the letter.

The woman immediately smiled.

Marian immediately regretted everything.

"You seem pleased, my lady."

"I am being harassed by correspondence."

The maid laughed.

Traitorously.

Marian sighed.

"If Duke Ashford were here, this evening would be considerably less irritating."

The smile widened.

This was somehow even worse.

Unfortunately, it was also true.

The last few months had passed more quickly than she expected.

Letters arrived.

Letters were answered.

More letters arrived.

Somewhere between the first and twentieth exchange, corresponding with Cassian had become part of her routine.

A dangerous development.

One she fully intended to continue.

The problem was that Cassian remained in Ashford.

Which meant Marian was forced to attend the opening of the Season alone.

A circumstance she considered deeply unfair.

Mostly to herself.

Eventually she allowed herself to be dressed.

Escorted to her carriage.

And transported toward the palace despite her best efforts to remain at home.

The capital looked different in spring.

Brighter.

Busier.

The streets overflowed with nobles returning from winter estates.

Carriages crowded every major road.

The city felt alive again.

Marian remained unconvinced this was an improvement.

The palace proved exactly as crowded as she remembered.

Which was to say:

Far too crowded.

The opening reception was one of the largest events of the year.

Attendance was unavoidable.

Unfortunately.

Marian stepped from her carriage.

Straightened her skirts.

And entered the palace.

The ballroom glittered beneath hundreds of lights.

Music drifted through the hall.

Conversation filled every corner.

People.

Far too many people.

Marian had barely crossed the threshold before a chamberlain greeted her.

Then a duchess she had known for years approached.

Then a countess.

Then another countess.

Marian smiled.

Curtsied.

Exchanged pleasantries.

Repeated the process.

The entire experience lasted perhaps three minutes.

She was already tired.

What surprised her was not the attention itself.

She had always attracted attention.

No.

It was the nature of it.

Different.

Subtle.

But unmistakable.

For years she had attended these events as the Crown Prince’s future bride.

Everyone had known her position.

Everyone had known her future.

Now they didn’t.

Marian understood the implications immediately.

The realization was exhausting.

A familiar countess approached, rescuing her from a conversation she had no desire to continue.

Marian silently added the woman to a growing list of people she owed favors.

The countess began discussing the weather.

Marian nearly embraced her.

The conversation had lasted less than a minute when Marian happened to glance across the ballroom.

And froze.

Adrian.

He stood near one of the receiving lines.

Tall.

Composed.

Dressed in formal black.

Exactly as she remembered.

For a moment Marian simply stared.

Not because she had forgotten he would be there.

Because seeing him and imagining him proved to be entirely different things.

Nearly a year.

The realization arrived unexpectedly.

She had not understood how long that truly was until now.

The hunting lodge.

The investigation.

The dissolution.

Everything afterward.

The months between then and now suddenly felt real.

Then she realized something else.

Adrian was already looking at her.

The discovery startled her.

For one brief moment their eyes met across the ballroom.

Recognition flashed between them.

A year condensed into a single glance.

Then Adrian looked away.

Immediately.

Almost abruptly.

Marian blinked.

Ah.

Of course.

The thought carried no bitterness.

Only understanding.

The engagement had ended.

A great deal had happened afterward.

Perhaps seeing her was uncomfortable.

Perhaps speaking would be uncomfortable.

Perhaps he simply preferred not to revisit the past.

That was understandable.

Marian continued watching him for another moment.

Not long.

Just long enough to truly look.

He looked well.

The realization arrived quietly.

Healthy.

Composed.

Steady.

As though life had continued.

As though he had continued.

The tension she had not realized she carried loosened slightly.

There had once been a time when she believed she would spend the rest of her life beside him.

A time when his happiness had felt inseparable from her own.

That future no longer existed.

Yet she found herself relieved all the same.

I’m glad.

The thought appeared softly.

Simple.

Honest.

And to her surprise, she meant it.

The knot inside her chest eased.

Not completely.

Perhaps it never would.

But enough.

Enough for her to finally look away.

Enough for her to return her attention to the conversation beside her.

Enough to realize that, for the first time in a very long while, seeing Adrian no longer hurt.

The realization felt strangely peaceful.

Some endings did not require anger.

Some endings did not require regret.

Sometimes people simply walked separate paths.

And that was all.

The countess was still discussing the weather.

Marian listened.

Or at least attempted to.

Unfortunately, her thoughts had already drifted elsewhere.

Toward a distant duchy.

Toward a man who wrote excessively long letters.

Toward a paragraph she had reread far more times than she intended to admit.

A small smile tugged at her lips.

The countess immediately noticed.

Marian immediately regretted smiling.

"Good news, Lady Marian?"

Marian’s expression became perfectly innocent.

The countess looked unconvinced.

Marian chose not to elaborate.

Some things were hers.

For now.

And perhaps that was enough.