The motorcar rolled forward with a low hum, the Obregón estate shrinking behind them in the rear window. Kayona's gaze lingered on its pale spires until they blurred into the horizon. She had spent years fortifying herself there—now she was leaving the safety of her walls for his.
Maxwell sat in the front passenger seat beside Sylrick's driver, posture rigid. His eyes scanned the road as though he expected it to misbehave. Behind them, a second motorcar kept close, packed with Sylrick's guards, their dark uniforms just visible through the glass.
In the back, Sylrick angled toward her, elbow resting along the leather seat as though he owned not only the space but the air she breathed.
Kayona dabbed the side of her neck with her handkerchief, resisting the urge to shift away from his steady stare.
How long is he going to watch me like that?, she thought.
"Should I have the driver adjust the air-cooling?" Sylrick's voice was smooth and casual, but the smile tugging at his mouth told her he knew exactly what he was doing.
Kayona's gaze slid to him, unimpressed.
"There's an entire landscape outside this vehicle, Lord Kartegen. You don't have to keep staring at me until we reach your residence."
Sylrick let out a low chuckle, his hand coming down sharply on his thigh.
"I thought we agreed to drop the formalities after the ball. That was one of my requests, wasn't it?"
"I'm still trying to get used to it."
Sylrick lowered his voice into a mock-pleading tone.
"We're getting married soon, Kai. It would make me very happy if my future wife were comfortable with me."
From the front passenger seat, Maxwell's head tilted just slightly, though his eyes stayed on the road ahead. He didn't speak—but the faint tightening of his jaw said enough.
Kayona folded her arms and turned toward the window, putting his reflection between them.
"You don't have to worry. I won't leap out the window. Now—please—look out your window instead."
Instead of obeying, Sylrick shifted closer, bracing his hands on either side of her hips. The leather seat dipped under his weight, closing off her escape.
Kayona's pulse skipped. Not because he was close, he had done that before, but because they were not alone.
Maxwell could hear every word. The driver could see every movement in the mirror. Yet Sylrick didn't seem to care.
"But I prefer my current view." His voice dipped lower, eyes fixed on her face. "Tell me your ideal type of man, Kai."
There's no way I'm saying that, Kayona thought.
"So you can mimic what I tell you and trick me into falling for you?" she asked, her tone flat but her pulse quickening.
"No—so I can lock up any man who meets those requirements."
Her gaze snapped back to him.
"Lord—" she caught herself, "—Sylrick, aren't you taking this marriage a little too seriously? Like I told you a week ago, you can have any mistress you want. We aren't a real couple."
From the front, Maxwell shifted, his knuckles pale where his hand gripped his knee. The driver's gaze stayed on the road, but Kayona didn't miss the way his ears tilted subtly back—listening.
Sylrick leaned just a little closer, close enough that his sleeve brushed her arm, his voice dropping until it was for her alone.
"Mistresses are for men who don't know what they want. I know exactly what I want."
Kayona's lips tugged into a faint smile, her expression betraying the smallest hint of amusement.
We will see how long that lasts, She mulled, turning back toward the passing scenery.
Fields unfurled in gold and green beneath a sky the color of pale steel, dotted with the silhouettes of laborers tending late-summer harvests. The farther they drove, the more the land bore the marks of Kartegen influence—tidy stone walls, freshly tarred roads, and the occasional patrol of mounted guards whose armor caught the light.
Sylrick sat back at last, though his knee still brushed hers every time the motorcar rocked over a rut.
"They've been expecting us since dawn," Sylrick said suddenly, as if reading her thoughts. "My father likes… punctuality."
Kayona didn't look at him. "I imagine he likes many things I don't."
His chuckle was low and unbothered. "You might be surprised."
The road narrowed through a stand of cypress, their dark, tapered crowns whispering overhead. Then, as the trees thinned, the main estate came into view—sprawling across a rise like a fortress carved from the bones of the earth. Pale stone walls, draped in the deep gold and black of the Kartegen crest, rose in layered tiers, each ringed with guards. Beyond them, high windows glinted in the late sun, and the tallest tower speared the sky like a challenge.
Kayona's fingers tightened in her lap. For all its elegance, the place felt less like a home and more like a declaration: you are in my domain now.
The motorcar rolled to a halt before the towering gates, their black ironwork wrought with two crossed swords above a wolf's head—emblem of House Kartegen. Guards in crimson-trimmed uniforms stood so still they could have been carved from stone.
Maxwell was out first, boots crunching on the gravel, and his gaze sweeping the perimeter. The driver moved to open Kayona's door, but Sylrick's hand intercepted.
"I'll take it from here," he said, and the man withdrew without a word.
He stepped forward, offering his hand. Kayona set her gloved fingers in his, descending with measured grace, keenly aware of the dozens of eyes upon her—guards, staff, and shadowed figures at the windows above. Sylrick stayed at her side, his palm resting lightly against her back. The touch was barely there, yet to anyone watching, it marked her as his.
Beyond them, the main estate rose from the fog, a sprawling castle-mansion of pale stone and sweeping battlements. Its many windows glimmered faintly in the muted light, like watchful eyes. On the front steps, waiting with perfect poise, stood the man and woman who had made Sylrick who he was.