Serena's breath caught as the heavy doors of the east wing closed behind her. She leaned against them for a moment, steadying herself. The heat of Cassian's gaze, the weight of his words, still lingered like a hand on her skin.
"You matter, Serena."
She had no idea how to process that. She was just a maid—an orphaned girl from the village who'd stumbled into marble halls far too grand for her name to echo in. And yet, in the shadows of the mansion's past, under the glint of chandeliers and behind velvet-draped windows, something was shifting.
She pressed a hand to her chest, feeling the furious beat of her heart. She couldn't afford to fall for him. Not when she had nothing to offer. Not when secrets curled like smoke in every corner of this house.
Not when she had one of her own.
⸻
The next day dawned gray, rain brushing gently against the tall windows. Serena kept to her chores, scrubbing floors and polishing railings, trying not to think of Cassian's voice, his touch, or the way his eyes softened when he looked at her.
But she failed.
By midmorning, she found herself outside the greenhouse at the edge of the estate—a sprawling glass structure overrun with ivy. It was rumored the Lady of the mansion, Cassian's mother, once spent hours here before her sudden death.
The door creaked open under her hand. Inside, warmth and green light wrapped around her. Leaves whispered against glass, and in the center stood a rose bush—untouched by time.
"I thought I might find you here," came a voice behind her.
Serena turned, startled. Cassian leaned against the glass wall, hands in his pockets, hair still damp from the rain. He looked tired, yet alive in a way that made her chest ache.
"I come here when I need quiet," she said quickly, brushing a stray leaf from her apron.
"I do too," he replied, stepping in. "My mother loved this place. She said flowers tell the truth, even when people lie."
Serena didn't answer, but the weight of unspoken truths hung between them.
Cassian glanced at her. "You didn't sleep last night."
She blinked. "How would you know?"
"I saw your light," he said. "And… I didn't sleep either."
He moved closer, and for a moment, Serena thought he would touch her again. But instead, he crouched beside the rose bush, brushing the petals.
"My father wanted this place locked up after she died," he murmured. "I kept it open. It's the only place I can remember her clearly."
Serena knelt beside him. "She must have been kind."
"She was," he said. "But this house… it didn't protect her. And it won't protect you."
She looked up sharply. "Is that a threat?"
"No," he said softly. "It's a warning."
There was silence, broken only by the whisper of rain against the roof.
Serena drew a breath. "Why are you really warning me, Cassian?"
His jaw tightened. "Because people in this house—my family, our name—we ruin things. And you…" His eyes met hers. "You deserve better."
A thousand words sat on her tongue, unsaid. She wanted to tell him everything—the truth about her parents, the reason she'd come to the mansion, the name she'd left behind.
But instead, she whispered, "I'm not afraid of you."
"You should be," he replied.
⸻
Later that night, as Serena folded laundry in the servants' quarters, Rose burst through the door, eyes wide.
"You need to come," she said. "Now."
"What happened?"
"It's Mrs. Elira. She's accused you of stealing."
Serena's heart plummeted. "What?! That's not true!"
Rose grabbed her arm. "Come. Cassian's already in the library with her."
By the time they arrived, the air was tense. Mrs. Elira stood by the fireplace, eyes sharp as daggers. In her hand, she held a velvet pouch.
"I found this in her drawer," she said, shaking it. "Jewelry from Lady Eleanor's collection."
Serena stared in disbelief. "That's not mine! I've never seen that before."
Cassian, standing near the window, turned to face them. His expression was unreadable.
Mrs. Elira smiled smugly. "The evidence speaks for itself."
"I didn't take it," Serena insisted, trembling. "Someone must have planted it."
Cassian stepped forward. "Enough."
His voice cracked through the room like thunder. All eyes turned to him.
"I know Serena," he said. "She wouldn't steal. And I know my mother's collection—those pieces were reported missing five years ago. Long before Serena arrived."
Mrs. Elira's face darkened. "Are you saying I'm lying?"
"I'm saying this feels like a setup," Cassian said coldly. "And unless you can prove otherwise, I suggest you leave."
The housekeeper's mouth opened, then closed. She stormed out, heels echoing down the hall.
Serena stood frozen. "Why did you do that?"
Cassian turned to her. "Because I trust you."
She searched his face. "You barely know me."
"I know enough," he said. "And I don't believe you're a thief."
Emotion surged in her throat. She nodded, unable to speak.
⸻
Days passed, and word of the accusation spread among the staff. Some whispered in corners. Others kept their distance. But Cassian remained steady, walking with Serena in the gardens, sitting with her in the greenhouse, slowly breaking down the walls between them.
One evening, they sat under the ivy arch as the sun set, golden light dancing through the glass.
"Do you ever wish things were simpler?" Serena asked.
"All the time," Cassian replied. "But nothing about my life is simple."
"Mine neither," she whispered.
He looked at her then, eyes sharp. "What aren't you telling me?"
Serena's pulse quickened. She glanced away. "It's complicated."
"I'm not asking for perfection," he said. "Just the truth."
She took a breath, then another. Her hands shook slightly.
"I came to this mansion for more than a job," she confessed. "My mother worked here before she died. She was dismissed under… strange circumstances. I came to find out what happened."
Cassian's eyes widened. "What was her name?"
"Luciana Reyes," Serena whispered. "She died when I was ten. No one ever told me why."
Cassian sat back, stunned. "Luciana… I remember that name."
"You do?"
"She was my mother's companion. Quiet, kind. One day she just… vanished."
Serena's voice cracked. "I think my mother was framed. Like I almost was."
Cassian was silent for a long moment. "Then we find the truth. Together."
⸻
That night, Serena lay in bed, eyes wide open. Cassian's promise echoed in her mind, chasing the shadows away.
She had come to the Marble Mansion looking for answers, for justice, for a name that was stolen.
But she had also found something unexpected—someone who saw her, not as a maid or a mystery, but as herself.
And maybe, just maybe, that was the beginning of everything.