The memory of that confrontation with the butler still scraped at Isadora's pride like a rusted blade. Steven—insolent, stone-faced Steven—had stood before her with the audacity of someone who believed himself untouchable.
"You will call off your plans, my lady," he'd warned her that night, voice low enough that even the walls seemed to strain to hear it. "If Aurelia dies by your hand, I will expose everything you have done. Every deal. Every whisper. Every treasonous step."
Isadora had tried to stare him down. "You wouldn't dare."
"I will, if that will stop your nefarious plans against the young miss." Steven the butler told her as he stood up against her.
"Nefarious?! How dare you say that to me. You forget your place, servant."
"Do I?" he had answered without blinking. "Then allow me to remind you of yours."
