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Chapter 3 - Chapter 11 – Eyes in the Hallways

For three days after the Midwinter Charity, the Duke was unusually silent at meals. He spoke when spoken to, but his mind was clearly elsewhere.

On the fourth morning, I caught him in the corridor outside the library, speaking in a low voice to Captain Rhys.

"Check every servant's entry for that night," he said. "Twice. And look into House Ceryne's retinue — they had no reason to be near the kitchens."

The Captain inclined his head and strode off. The Duke noticed me then, his expression smoothing instantly.

"Didn't hear a word, did you?" he asked lightly.

I smiled faintly. "If I say no, will you believe me?"

"No," he said, but there was a ghost of amusement in his eyes. "Come. Your brothers are in the east courtyard."

The east courtyard was alive with the sound of clashing wooden swords. My two older brothers, Kaelen and Dorian, were sparring under the watchful eye of the weapons master.

"Little sister!" Kaelen called, tossing me a practice dagger. "Care to join?"

I caught it easily. "Only if I can cook after. I've been working on a new mana-bread recipe."

Dorian groaned. "If you put that glowing spice in it again, I won't be able to sit still for hours."

"That's the point," I said, grinning.

We sparred for half an hour, laughter and mock complaints filling the air. But the moment training ended, I noticed something strange — a man in plain brown livery lingering near the far archway.

He wasn't one of ours.

When he realized I was looking at him, he bowed stiffly and disappeared into the inner hall.

That evening, I carried a tray of fresh mana-bread to the Duke's study. He was bent over a map, red wax seals marking several points.

"Try it," I said, setting a slice beside him. "No glowing spice this time."

He took a bite, but his gaze never left the map. "If someone is watching you, I want to know before they act."

I froze. "So I wasn't imagining it?"

"No," he said. "And you will not go anywhere without at least one guard until I say otherwise."

I wanted to argue, but the memory of that stranger's eyes — assessing, unblinking — silenced me.

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