(Ruby's POV)
The manor feels different when we return.
The walls are the same gray stone. The corridors are the same cold marble. But something has shifted. The air is thinner. The shadows are deeper. And everywhere I look, I see eyes that weren't watching before.
Nicholas's hand is on my lower back, his touch light but possessive. In public, we are still performing. The Beast and his broken bride. But beneath my skin, I feel the memory of last night like a secret fire.
Mrs. MacLeod meets us in the main hall. Her face is impassive, but her eyes flick to mine for just a moment. A question. An answer. I give her a small nod, and something in her shoulders loosens.
"Master Nicholas," she says. "The conservatory requires your attention. There's been an incident."
Nicholas tenses beside me. "What kind of incident?"
