The long dining hall of Knight Manor had always been designed to impress.
Crystal chandeliers blazed overhead, their light refracting off gold-trimmed glasses and polished silverware.
A mahogany table stretched endlessly down the center, draped in ivory linen, set for far too many guests for such a "private" dinner.
Selena's heels clicked softly against the marble floor as she entered, her mother clutching her hands tightly.
She was wearing midnight blue silk, its neckline was modest, its cut chosen not by her but by her mother, always her mother.
To Selena, it felt like an armour that wasn't hers to wear.
Every polished surface seemed to reflect back her unease.
At the far end of the room sat Sir Edward Knight, a glass half-filled brandy in his left hand .
His sharp eyes tracked her entrance with the weight of an appraiser studying a rare painting.
Her stomach twisted. She felt less like a bride-to-be and more of a transaction on display.
Then Adrian entered.
He didn't stride, he stalked, measured, each step echoing dominance, his black suit tailored to lethal perfection.
His storm-gray gaze found her immediately, and once again the air shifted.
Selena braced herself, hating that her pulse quickened despite everything.
"Miss Hayes," he greeted smoothly, his voice low, carrying across the room like velvet stretched over steel.
He didn't bow, didn't offer warmth. Instead, he reached for her hand with deliberate slowness, letting his fingers curl around hers.
His thumb brushed her skin again, just once, maddeningly subtle.
"Mr. Knight," she replied, forcing composure, though her heart hammered against her ribs.
Adrian's lips curved faintly. A smirk? A warning? He leaned close, close enough for his breath to ghost her cheek, but just before his mouth touched her skin, he withdrew.
Selena's body betrayed her with a shiver she tried to mask by stepping back.
His eyes glinted, he had noticed.
Edward's voice cut through the tension like a blade. "Shall we sit?"
Selena took the seat beside Adrian, though every fiber of her being screamed to sit elsewhere. Her mother positioned herself opposite her, pearls glinting at her throat.
Selena thought of the whispered conversation she had overheard the night before, the words that had unsettled her ever since.
She bit down on her lip and glanced across the table at her mother, who avoided her eyes.
Dinner began in orchestrated silence, servants pouring wine and presenting dishes.
The clinking of cutlery against each other was the only sound for a time, until Edward spoke.
"Selena, I trust you are settling in at the manor." His tone was casual, but his gaze wasn't.
Selena straightened, forcing a polite smile. "It's… a beautiful estate."
"A fortress," Adrian corrected quietly beside her, his voice pitched low enough for her alone.
His tone carried irony, almost mockery. Selena shot him a sidelong glance, catching the faintest twitch of amusement on his lips.
Edward's gaze shifted between them, and Selena could have sworn she saw satisfaction flicker in his eyes.
"You will find…." Edward continued smoothly, "....that this house is more than a residence."
Selena nodded, though inwardly, she bristled.
Adrian set down his wineglass with a faint clink. "You make it sound like she married the house, Father."
The table fell silent for a bit too long. Edward's smirk didn't falter. "In a way, she has."
Selena's fork stilled mid-air. The words dug at her, married the house, married the legacy.
Married into something larger than herself, It made her feel like a shadow, not a bride.
Her mother cleared her throat softly, breaking the tension. "Selena has always admired architecture," she said, voice strained with forced brightness. "She'll appreciate Knight Manor's heritage."
Selena turned sharply toward her, eyes narrowing. The comment felt rehearsed, too convenient, as if her mother had been instructed on what to say.
Adrian's hand shifted beneath the table. For a brief moment, his fingers brushed against hers, hidden from view.
Selena startled, then realized it wasn't tenderness, it was deliberate distraction. His way of grounding her? Or reminding her he was in control? She couldn't tell.
She jerked her hand away. His lips curved again, infuriatingly calm, as if her reaction was exactly what he wanted.
The meal continued. Conversation drifted to trivial matters, the markets, mutual acquaintances, whispered gossip of society scandals.
But Selena barely tasted the food on her plate. She couldn't stop thinking about the secret Edward and her mother shared.
About the way her mother's hands trembled when Edward's gaze lingered too long.
Finally, Adrian spoke again, his words deceptively light. "Tell me, Father, will you be drafting another contract for dinner as well? Or shall we improvise this one?"
Selena's head snapped toward him. Her pulse raced at the sheer audacity. Edward's gaze cooled.
"Careful, Adrian," Edward warned, his voice soft as velvet but edged with steel.
Adrian leaned back, utterly unbothered, swirling his wine lazily. "Why? Contracts seem to be the only language you speak these days."
The tension at the table sharpened, invisible but suffocating. Selena's mother shifted in her seat, dabbing at her lips with a napkin though she hadn't eaten.
Selena saw it, the nervous twitch, the avoidance of eye contact.
"Some things," Edward said slowly, deliberately, "are better left unspoken, especially at my table."
The words rang heavier than simple rebuke. Selena's breath caught. Was he speaking to Adrian? Or warning her, too?
The dinner stretched on, every moment threaded with unease. Selena's shoulders ached from the tension of holding herself upright of pretending composure.
Adrian, by contrast, seemed carved from stone, his every movement precise, controlled, except when he glanced at her.
Then, just for a second, the storm in his gray eyes betrayed something deeper.
By the time dessert was served, Selena's appetite had vanished entirely. She pushed her plate away, her thoughts spinning.
When Edward rose from his chair, the dinner was declared finished. "You'll both retire early," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Tomorrow will be… significant."
Selena froze. Significant? She looked quickly at her mother, but the woman's gaze was lowered, her face pale. Adrian's jaw flexed, but he said nothing.
As they rose, Adrian offered his arm. Selena hesitated, then placed her hand on it, her body stiff.
The touch was for show, for their parents' satisfaction. Yet his grip was firm, unyielding, sending a strange heat through her veins.
"Smile," he whispered near her ear, his breath grazing her skin again. "They're watching."
She forced her lips into a curve, though it felt more like a grimace.
The hallways stretched long and shadowed as they walked side by side.
Once out of earshot, Selena pulled her hand free. "Do you enjoy this?" she demanded under her breath. "Playing the puppet while he pulls the strings?"
Adrian's smirk faded, his expression hardening. "I've never enjoyed being anyone's puppet." His gaze cut to her, sharp, unreadable. "And neither do you. That's the problem."
Their eyes locked, something raw flashing between them, resentment, defiance, and something else neither dared name.
They reached the corridor where their rooms diverged. Selena paused, her voice low. "Your father and my mother… they're hiding something."
Adrian stilled. His expression didn't change, but his eyes narrowed ever so slightly.
Selena swallowed. "I heard them last night. Talking about me. About something I don't know yet. And Edward said, he said I'd learn when it was useful."
The silence stretched.
Adrian leaned in, his mouth near her ear, his words barely above a whisper. "Then we'll find out before they decide it's time."
Selena's breath hitched. The weight of his closeness, the promise in his tone, it was too much. She stepped back quickly, retreating toward her door.
"Goodnight, Adrian," she whispered, her voice trembling in ways she hated.
"Goodnight, Selena." His reply was soft, almost mocking, but his eyes lingered on her with unsettling intensity.
As she closed her door, her heart thundered. Behind her, she leaned against the wood, staring into the darkness. Secrets pressed in from every corner.
And though she didn't know it yet, the true dinner of masks had only just begun.