Chapter 55: The Return

Chapter 55: Chapter 55: The Return

Returning home was far less satisfying than Marian expected.

This was deeply unreasonable.

For three days she had dreamed about proper beds.

Proper food.

Proper walls.

A proper roof.

Most importantly, proper baths.

Yet somehow, the moment she stepped through the gates of the Valmont estate, something felt... strange.

As though she had left something behind.

The thought irritated her immediately.

Because what exactly had she left behind?

Mud?

Rain?

Trees?

An unhealthy amount of wilderness?

Nothing worth missing.

Absolutely nothing.

The problem was that her heart appeared to disagree.

The traitor.

The absolute traitor.

Her father was waiting.

Which should have warned her something was wrong.

Duke Valmont hated waiting.

He was a busy man.

An important man.

A man who believed standing around accomplished nothing.

Yet there he was.

At the entrance.

Waiting.

The moment he saw her, relief flashed across his face.

Gone almost immediately.

Replaced by irritation.

Which was much more familiar.

"Three days."

Marian winced.

"Father—"

"Three days."

The repetition felt ominous.

Very ominous.

"I know."

"You were missing."

"I noticed."

The Duke stared.

Long and hard.

Marian immediately realized she should have chosen different words.

Unfortunately, it was too late.

The damage was done.

For several moments neither spoke.

Then:

"Do you have any idea what I went through?"

The question came quietly.

Too quietly.

And suddenly Marian understood.

The fear.

The waiting.

The uncertainty.

The realization squeezed painfully at her chest.

Without thinking, she stepped forward.

And hugged him.

The Duke froze.

Completely.

As though physical affection were some kind of attack.

Which, considering his expression, it might have been.

"Father."

The word came softly.

"I’m sorry."

For a long moment he remained still.

Then his hand settled awkwardly on her head.

A single pat.

Entirely insufficient.

Entirely perfect.

"Don’t do it again."

The answer sounded rough.

Marian smiled.

"I’ll try."

"Try harder."

The Duke clearly felt this was a reasonable request.

Marian loved him very much.

The following days passed in a blur.

Physicians.

Servants.

Meetings.

Visitors.

Everyone wanted reassurance that she was unharmed.

Everyone wanted details.

Everyone wanted stories.

Marian wanted silence.

And a bath.

Mostly the bath.

Adrian visited the next morning.

Then the following afternoon.

Then again the day after that.

The pattern became increasingly difficult to ignore.

Marian noticed immediately.

Because Adrian had changed.

Not dramatically.

Not obviously.

Subtly.

The sort of change most people would miss.

She didn’t.

Because she had spent years watching him.

Years loving him.

Years wishing he would look at her the way he was looking at her now.

"Have you been sleeping properly?"

Marian blinked.

"What?"

Adrian frowned.

"You look tired."

The irony nearly killed her.

Three months ago she would have treasured that question.

Framed it.

Preserved it forever.

Now she simply stared.

"I was lost in a forest."

"I know."

His expression tightened.

As though merely remembering it bothered him.

"You should rest more."

The concern was genuine.

Entirely genuine.

That was the problem.

The old Marian would have been overjoyed.

The current Marian felt strangely unsettled.

It continued.

Every conversation.

Every visit.

Every interaction.

Adrian noticed things now.

Little things.

The things he used to overlook.

The things she used to desperately wish he would see.

And the cruelest part?

This was exactly what she had wanted.

Exactly.

Months ago she would have given anything for this.

Now it felt...

Different.

The realization arrived unexpectedly.

On the fourth day.

During tea.

The physician had just finished lecturing her.

Again.

At great length.

About rest.

Nutrition.

Recovery.

Fresh air.

The man clearly enjoyed hearing himself speak.

Marian had stopped listening ten minutes ago.

When he finally left, she let out an exaggerated sigh.

The sort she knew would have made someone laugh.

And immediately a thought appeared.

Effortless.

Automatic.

Cassian would have laughed at that.

Marian froze.

The teacup stopped halfway to her lips.

Silence.

The realization settled.

Slow.

Heavy.

Dangerous.

Not Adrian.

Cassian.

When something amusing happened, she thought of Cassian.

When something ridiculous happened, she wanted to tell Cassian.

When she laughed—

She missed Cassian.

The truth struck with terrifying clarity.

Marian slowly set down her teacup.

Wonderful.

Absolutely wonderful.

She had spent years in love with one man.

Three days in a forest with another.

And somehow this was her life now.

That evening she wandered into the estate gardens.

Alone.

The sun was setting.

The air was cool.

The flowers were beginning to bloom.

Normally she loved this place.

Today it felt empty.

The realization annoyed her.

Deeply.

Because she knew exactly why.

For three days she had become accustomed to something.

Someone.

Conversation.

Laughter.

Arguments about absolutely nothing.

The easy companionship that had somehow become essential before she noticed.

Now it was gone.

And she hated how much she noticed its absence.

A dangerous thought surfaced.

One she immediately tried to suppress.

Failed to suppress.

And then reluctantly acknowledged.

She wondered what he was doing.

The realization horrified her.

Not because she wondered.

Because she wondered often.

Far too often.

The next morning an invitation arrived from the palace.

A formal dinner.

The first major gathering since the rescue.

The first event the court had eagerly anticipated.

The first event where everyone would appear together again.

Marian unfolded the invitation.

Read it once.

Then twice.

Then a third time.

Slowly.

Carefully.

Thoughtfully.

As though it contained state secrets.

It did not.

It was a dinner.

A perfectly ordinary dinner.

Nothing unusual.

Nothing important.

Nothing whatsoever.

And yet—

A single thought appeared.

Uninvited.

Persistent.

Impossible to ignore.

Cassian will be there.

Marian immediately dropped the invitation onto the table.

As though it had burned her.

This was ridiculous.

Completely ridiculous.

Absolutely ridiculous.

She was being ridiculous.

The fact that she continued staring at the invitation several minutes later was entirely unrelated.

Entirely.

Probably.

Hopefully.

The situation was rapidly becoming unmanageable.