Isolde's POV
The moment the doors to the south drawing room closed behind me, I exhaled the breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding. My hands were cold despite the warmth of the chandeliers, and my thoughts tangled like loose threads.
Lady Marguerite's words echoed in my head, smooth, commanding, and final. "You will move into the Duke's manor tonight. You will not disagree. It is final."
The words clung to me, heavy and unyielding.
I made my way through the corridor, the long velvet runner soft beneath my shoes. Servants passed quietly, their eyes lowered, and yet I could feel their curiosity like heat at my back. I nodded where courtesy demanded, but my mind was far from the gilded walls of Ravenshade.
When I finally reached my own chambers, the ones I had been sleeping in since my arrival, I shut the door softly behind me and leaned against it.
The room was still, faintly lit by the soft glow of the chandelier above. My belongings had already been packed neatly by the attendants, dresses folded, jewelry cases closed, everything arranged for the move I had not yet agreed to.
I pressed a hand to my chest, willing my heart to slow.
Does he know?
He has to know.
Surely, Lady Marguerite wouldn't send me there without his consent… would she?
The thought unsettled me more than I cared to admit. The Duke's gaze from earlier still lingered in my memory, cold, measured, the kind of look that left no room for warmth. Would he welcome me? Or would my presence in his manor be another quiet defiance, another move in a game I barely understood?
I moved to the dressing table, the mirror reflecting the pale unease in my face. My reflection didn't look like a duchess, not tonight. It looked like a girl trying to convince herself she wasn't terrified.
I sank onto the seat before the mirror, the folds of my gown pooling around me like heavy water. The silence pressed in, thick and suffocating, until I broke it with a whisper.
"He must know," I said softly, almost pleading with the stillness. "He has to."
But the chandelier flickered above me, and no answer came.
The servants would return soon to escort me to the Duke's manor. I could delay, but not defy. Not after Lady Marguerite's words.
I closed my eyes for a moment and drew a long, steady breath. If tonight marked my crossing into the Duke's world, into his domain, then I would face it as I had faced everything else since stepping into Ravenshade. With composure.
Even if my heart trembled beneath it.
*****
The household had grown quiet by the time the small escort arrived. The corridors were shadowed, lit only by the chandeliers that cast golden pools of light over the marble floor. Even the usual hum of activity seemed to have withdrawn in deference to the hour.
Lady Marguerite led the way, her posture perfectly straight, silent as a wraith. Behind her, a maid carried a small bundle of my most immediate belongings, gowns folded carefully, jewelry cases locked, essentials for the night ahead.
"This way, Your Grace," Lady Marguerite murmured, her voice low enough that only I could hear. "The manor awaits, and your rooms have been prepared."
I followed, my gown whispering against the floor, heart hammering against my ribs. Every shadow seemed to stretch toward me, every flicker of chandelier light whispering of the Duke's inevitable presence, even if he was not here.
The steward waited at the outer doors, hands folded neatly. "Your Grace, all is arranged. Shall we proceed?"
I nodded, gripping the folds of my skirts as we moved. The air was cooler here, scented faintly with cedar and polished wood, the quiet only broken by our measured steps.
We crossed the main hall, and I caught a glimpse of the marble floors, the chandeliers, the solemn elegance of Ravenshade Manor at night. It felt both magnificent and oppressive, the grandeur a reminder of how far I had stepped from the life I once knew.
The escort led me through winding corridors until we reached the private wing. There, my belongings had already been brought forward, boxes stacked neatly, gowns protected by linen coverings, jewelry cases waiting like silent sentinels.
Lady Marguerite's gaze swept over everything, sharp and precise. "All is in place. The Duke's manor will become your home tonight. You will settle in quickly. Do not hesitate. Move with grace."
I swallowed, the lump in my throat making it hard to breathe. "Yes, my lady," I whispered.
The aunt inclined her head once and left, leaving me with only the quiet hum of the manor and the small group of attendants. I let the door close softly behind them, and the hush of midnight pressed down on me like a tangible weight.
I paused at the doorway, taking a deep breath, gathering what composure I had left. The room awaited me, empty but perfectly prepared, silent under the chandeliers' glow.
With a final exhale, I stepped inside. My gloved hands brushed over the polished surfaces, testing the quiet. The chandeliers scattered light across the room, painting everything in golden fragments. The room smelled faintly of cedar and lavender, cool and serene.
I moved toward the window, gazing out over the estate. Moonlight spilled across the grounds, silver and still, the sea beyond black and infinite. I sank onto the edge of the bed, letting my hands fold neatly in my lap, and allowed a slow, steadying breath.
Tonight, Ravenshade Manor would no longer be a distant hall of power. Tonight, it was mine to enter, to navigate, to survive, and to learn. And though the Duke was not here, I could feel the weight of his presence in the very walls, in the hush of the corridors, in the disciplined quiet of the midnight hour.
Beneath the fear, a spark of resolve ignited. I would face this house as I had faced everything else: composed, poised, and ready.
Even in the dead of night, under the watchful glow of chandeliers and the long shadows of Ravenshade Manor, I would not falter.
*****
I had settled onto the edge of the bed, letting the stillness of the room wash over me, attempting to steady my nerves, when a soft click echoed through the hall outside.
The door creaked open.
I froze. My gloved hands pressed to my lap, every nerve alert.