The Thorn estate was drowning in silence.
Midnight shadows stretched across the marble floors like creeping fingers, and the once-lively halls of the ancestral home now felt more like a tomb than a fortress. Snow clung to the stained-glass windows, distorting the moonlight into fractured colors that danced across Evelynn's study.
She hadn't slept.
Not since the letter arrived.
Her fingers hovered over it now—a single sheet of parchment stamped with a wax seal no one dared ignore. The emblem of the Royal Council: a serpent coiled around a scepter, baring its fangs.
It wasn't a threat.
Not directly.
But Evelynn Thorn knew veiled threats when she saw them. This was an invitation—to a hearing. A quiet one. No audience, no record. Just questions.
Which meant someone had whispered her name in the wrong ears.
She knew betrayal was inevitable. Power didn't come without a cost. But this… this felt too soon.
Too orchestrated.
And if it was orchestrated, then only one person could be pulling the strings.
Slythwood.
Her pulse spiked as the thought soured her tongue like poison. Lucas had been playing a dangerous game for weeks, and while she'd convinced herself she could stay one step ahead, now she wasn't so sure. Their last encounter—too personal, too honest—had left her shaken in ways she hadn't been in years.
She hated him for that.
She hated herself more.
A knock broke the silence, soft and rhythmic—three taps, a pause, then two more. A code.
She stood, every instinct on edge. "Enter."
Talia stepped in, eyes wide and uncertain. "He's here."
Evelynn didn't ask who.
She already knew.
---
The east drawing room was dark, lit only by the fire that crackled in the hearth. Evelynn stood near the window, back straight, hands clasped in front of her like a queen awaiting war.
Lucas Slythwood entered like a shadow in velvet.
His dark cloak dripped with melted snow, and his expression was unreadable. No smirk, no arrogance—just a cool detachment that made him even more dangerous.
He didn't bow.
He didn't speak.
Neither did she.
Not at first.
"Impressive," she said finally, her voice like ice breaking a still pond. "Most spies wouldn't risk walking through my front door."
Lucas stepped closer, removing his gloves. "I'm not most spies."
"No," she said, eyes narrowing. "You're the arrogant son of the man who tried to burn my family name to the ground."
He tilted his head. "And you're the woman rebuilding that name with the precision of a blade. Which is why I'm here."
Evelynn scoffed, turning away from him. "Cut to the point. I don't have the patience for riddles tonight."
Lucas dropped something on the nearby table. A rolled-up scroll, bound with twine. Evelynn didn't touch it.
"What is it?"
"Proof," he said. "That someone in the council is preparing to move against you. And not just politically."
Evelynn's blood ran cold.
"Murder?"
"Discreditation first. Then imprisonment. Then... well. Let's just say accidents happen."
She picked up the scroll and unraveled it slowly. Names. Locations. Meeting records. Some familiar. Some she'd only suspected.
"How did you get this?" she asked, eyes still scanning the parchment.
Lucas's voice dropped. "You're not the only one with informants."
She looked up sharply. "Then why warn me?"
"Because if you fall, I'm next. We're both relics of families they want buried. We make too much noise. We remember too much."
Evelynn narrowed her eyes. "So this is self-preservation."
"This is survival," he corrected. "And if you're smart, you'll realize we don't have the luxury of playing enemies anymore."
She crossed the room slowly, deliberately, until she stood right in front of him. "What are you offering, Lucas?"
He didn't flinch. "An alliance. You and me. Public. United. Enough to scare them into hesitation. Enough to confuse the vultures circling above."
Evelynn laughed—a bitter, breathless sound. "You want to stage a performance?"
"No," he said. "I want to play the game better than them. And if that means the world thinks we're allies—or lovers—then so be it."
That last word hung heavy in the air.
Lovers.
Her heart skipped.
Lucas stepped closer, eyes searching hers. "You hate me. I know. But you don't distrust me completely. Not anymore. So trust me just enough. Let them think we're together. Use me as I use you."
Evelynn looked at him for a long moment.
"What's your price?"
Lucas smiled faintly. "Don't get me killed."
---
They sat across from each other as the fire burned lower, the scroll of secrets laid between them like a silent contract.
Evelynn sipped her wine, watching Lucas with an expression she reserved for complex puzzles. He hadn't flinched once since arriving, but she could see the tension in his jaw, the tightness in his grip.
He was hiding something. Maybe many things.
"Tell me the real reason," she said finally. "Why now? Why risk coming here, alone, without guards or backup?"
Lucas exhaled, slowly. "Because something's changed."
"What?"
"The council has a new player. A woman."
Evelynn's brows lifted. "Name?"
"I don't have it yet. But she's charming the older Lords. She's buying influence—whispers say with Thorn gold."
Evelynn's spine stiffened.
"That's impossible."
"Is it?" Lucas asked quietly. "You've had leaks before. It's how my father knew about your father's health failing. It's how the council knew where your brother would be ambushed last year."
Evelynn's face remained composed, but her heart thundered.
"I've plugged those holes."
"Not all of them," he said. "Which is why I came to you first. Before she does."
She stood and walked to the window, staring out at the moonlit grounds. Her mind raced with possibilities, betrayals, names she'd trusted that now twisted like knives in her memory.
"You realize," she said without turning, "that if this alliance becomes public, both our names will be stained further. The nobility will call it desperation. The council will call it treason."
Lucas joined her at the window, close enough that she could feel the warmth of his body.
"Let them call it what they want," he said. "So long as we survive to hear it."
She looked up at him, finally meeting his gaze.
"So we lie to the world," she said. "We pretend."
Lucas didn't smile. "Only if we must."
And in that moment, with the weight of kingdoms hanging between them, Evelynn made a choice.
She reached into the scroll and pulled free a signet—a ring with a black stone engraved with a thorn and flame.
Her family's true symbol.
"Then let the game begin," she whispered.