It had all happened in less than five minutes.
It began the moment Marissa's hands met the unmoving handles of the balcony doors. Jammed. The sickening realization that she was trapped washed over her, a wave of icy dread. Behind her, the masked intruder was recovering from the incense ash, his coughing turning into a low, menacing growl as he wiped the powder from his eyes.
He lunged.
Marissa didn't scream. Her eyes, wide with fear but sharp with focus, darted to the small table beside her. On it sat the heavy, bronze incense burner she had just used. It was the only weapon available. As he reached for her, she snatched it up and swung it with all the strength she possessed.
There was a sickening, solid thud as the heavy bronze connected with the side of the man's head. His angry growl cut off into a strangled grunt, and his eyes rolled back. He collapsed at her feet, a dead weight on the expensive carpet.
For a single, breathless moment, there was silence. Marissa stood over him, her chest heaving, the heavy incense burner still clutched in her hand. The immediate threat was gone. But a new, more complicated problem lay at her feet: a body in the Grand Duchess's bedchamber on her wedding night. Leaving him here was not an option.
Her gaze fell upon a large, carved wooden trunk tucked neatly under the foot of her bed. It was meant for storing heavy winter blankets and linens. It was her only hope.
Working with a desperate energy, she dragged the heavy trunk out. It was filled with neatly folded wool blankets. She didn't hesitate, grabbing them by the armful and throwing them onto the floor in a messy pile. The trunk was empty.
The hard part was next. The unconscious man was large and heavy. She grabbed him under the arms and began to drag him across the room. It was a grim, exhausting struggle. His limbs were limp, his body an uncooperative dead weight. She finally got him to the trunk and, with a grunt of effort, managed to heave his torso inside. His legs, however, remained sprawled out on the floor. She lifted one heavy, booted leg and folded it in, then reached for the other.
It was at that precise, unbelievable moment that the door opened.
Marissa froze, half-bent over the trunk, her hands gripping the intruder's ankle. Standing in the doorway, his face a mask of utter disbelief, was her new husband, Derek.
He had expected to find a timid bride waiting nervously. Instead, he found her stuffing an unconscious man into a chest.
He stared, his brain struggling to process the impossible scene. He saw the scattered blankets, the open trunk, and his wife, still in her beautiful silk nightgown, trying to fold a man's leg as if she were packing a suitcase.
"What are you doing?" he finally managed to ask, his voice a hoarse whisper of shock.
Marissa didn't even look surprised to see him. Her mind was working too fast for shock. The trap was closing, and his arrival was a complication she hadn't foreseen.
"Why are you just standing there? Help me," she said, her voice sharp and breathless as she gave the man's leg another desperate shove. She needed to get the trunk closed and pushed back under the bed before anyone else arrived.
Derek took a step back, his disbelief hardening into suspicion. "What is going on here?" he demanded, his voice regaining its usual commanding tone. "Why should I help you hide a body?"
Just then, a voice, sharp and authoritative, echoed from the hallway outside. It was Lorena.
"Send more guards to this floor! There's a thief in the west wing! Search every room!"
Derek's head snapped towards the door. Marissa's blood ran cold. What is going on here? he thought, his mind racing. A thief? Is that who this is? And why is she hiding him instead of calling for help?
Marissa knew she had run out of time. They were coming. They would find her with a strange man in her room, and now, they would find the Grand Duke here as well. It would be a scandal of epic proportions. Her reputation would be destroyed, and Derek would be implicated alongside her. A new plan flashed in her mind. It was insane. It was dangerous. It was her only chance.
She had to make Derek part of the scene. Not as a witness, but as the main actor.
She subtly reached for the small travel case Lily had unpacked for her, her fingers closing around a small vial inside. It was a potent sleeping draught. In a single, fluid motion, she uncorked it and doused a silk handkerchief she pulled from her sleeve.
"Help me out of this," she whispered, her voice a desperate plea. She took a step towards Derek, her eyes wide and pleading.
He was still looking towards the door, trying to make sense of the commotion. She tapped his shoulder. "Your Grace?"
He turned, his attention now on her. It was the opening she needed.
Before he could react, she pressed the damp, sweet-smelling cloth hard over his nose and mouth. He inhaled sharply in surprise, drawing the potent drug deep into his lungs. He realized what was happening and, with a roar, shoved her away. The vial was not meant for a man of his size and strength; she knew it wouldn't be enough to fully knock him out.
He staggered backward, shaking his head, trying to fight the sudden, heavy fog that was descending upon his mind. His muscles felt like lead, his vision swam, and the room began to tilt.
Marissa knew the effects would wear off soon. She had maybe a minute at most.
She launched herself at him. He was weak, disoriented, his formidable strength sapped by the drug. She used all her weight to push him, stumbling, towards the four-poster bed. He collapsed onto the mattress, his mind a confusing haze.
The footsteps in the hallway were getting closer, accompanied by Lorena's sharp, commanding voice.
Marissa worked with speed. She grabbed a strip of linen from the discarded pile of bedding and tied it tightly around his mouth as a gag. She seized the long, decorative sash from her wedding dress, which lay draped over a chair, and quickly bound his hands together.
Finally, just as she heard the sound of hands on her doorknob, she climbed onto the bed and straddled him, pinning him down with her body. She reached up and pulled the sheer bed curtains closed around them, plunging them into a world of shadows.
The door opened. Lorena and Ashlyn swept in, their faces alight with triumphant malice, ready to discover a scene of disgrace.
And they did. Just not the one they had planned.