The night air was cool as Isabella and Lord Julian strolled through the garden, their footsteps softly crunching on the gravel path. The distant hum of music from the ballroom faded with each step, replaced by the gentle rustling of leaves and the occasional chirp of crickets.
It had seemed harmless at first, a casual offer to get some air, to escape the suffocating crowd and the watchful eyes of the nobility. Leofric had been speaking to Lady Harcourt, his mouth close to her ear, and Isabella's heart had burned with a mix of confusion and something darker. That sharp smile on Lady Harcourt's lips had tipped Isabella past her limit.
She glanced around, noticing how the garden seemed to empty as they ventured farther. The once lively paths were now quiet, and a sense of unease began to creep in. She turned to Julian, her voice light but questioning.
"It's getting quite deserted out here," she said, trying to keep her tone casual.
