The drive back from the imperial palace was long enough for Lucas to fold himself back into silence, letting the rhythm of tires against asphalt dull the edges of strategy still ringing in his mind. Fitzgeralt manor loomed familiar by the time the car pulled into the courtyard, its glass façade washed in the soft glow of evening.
Inside, the quiet was broken only by the muffled tick of the grandfather clock in the hall. Mia was waiting for him.
She stood at the edge of the lounge, arms crossed, shoulders drawn tight. The expression on her face was a mix between hurt and wary, as though she had rehearsed this moment the entire ride back.
"You used us," she said flatly. No preamble, no hesitation. "You used me and Andrew to give the imperial family and your houses more power."
Lucas paused just inside the doorway, undoing the buttons of his jacket with unhurried calm. His green eyes met hers, steady, unreadable. "Is that what you think?"
