Aiden could hear it.
The walls themselves seemed to vibrate with the voices inside, thick with accusation and wounded pride. The seed he had planted—so carefully, so patiently—was finally bearing fruit.
Catherine and Augustus.
They were shouting again. But this time, it wasn't Augustus's stern voice weighing down on his wife. No. This time it was Catherine, her words cutting, her tone sharp, striking him where he was weakest.
Aiden pressed his ear against the carved oak door, the polished surface cool beneath his cheek. His lips curled faintly. A servant's ears were rarely invited into the heart of noble quarrels, but tonight, his would drink every word.
"I still remember your suspicious eyes on me when you could not find the platinum coins…" Catherine's voice trembled, not with fear but with rage barely held in check.
Inside, Aiden imagined her standing tall, her gown rustling as she shifted her weight, chin lifted in defiance.
