The air was a shock to Verona's lungs, sharp, cold, and smelling of damp earth, but she couldn't linger in the fragile freedom of the gardens. Behind her, the Vernhardt manor loomed like a hunched, black predator. She knew the layout of the estate better than any of the Duke's hired swords, but she was playing a dangerous game of cat and mouse against a man who now used the shadows themselves as informants.
"Find her! Search the stables! The perimeter wall! If she reaches the main road, your heads will roll!" Varon's voice echoed from the stone terrace, shrill and frantic.
