I wake to sunlight streaming through my windows and the profound relief of knowing I don't have to become Duchess Vere.
For the first time in days—in *years*, if I count my first life—I feel light. Free. The weight that's been pressing on my chest since the engagement was first arranged has lifted, leaving behind something that feels almost like hope.
Mina finds me already dressed when she arrives with morning tea.
"My lady! I was going to help you—" She stops, taking in my appearance. Simple dress in deep burgundy, hair braided practically rather than arranged elaborately. "Are you going somewhere?"
"The Moonstone Trading Company. In the city." I take the tea gratefully, sipping while I review my reflection. Presentable but businesslike. Perfect. "I have a meeting."
"A meeting?" Mina's eyes widen. "My lady, young women don't simply attend business meetings—"
"This one does." I set down the teacup, gathering the leather portfolio I'd prepared last night. It contains everything I'd learned about the Moonstone Company in my first life, along with detailed proposals for the silver mine partnership. "And Mina? I'll need you to stop calling me 'my lady' quite so much when we're in the city. I want to be taken seriously as a business partner, not dismissed as a noble playing at commerce."
"We?" Mina squeaks. "You want me to accompany you to a business meeting?"
"I need a chaperone. You're the only person I trust not to report every detail back to Father before I've had a chance to prove this works." I meet her eyes. "Unless you'd prefer I ask Isabel Park?"
Mina shudders dramatically. "The Moonstone Company it is, then. But my la—Miss Adeline—your father will ask questions."
"Let him." I'm already heading for the door. "I left him a note explaining I'm pursuing the business ventures I mentioned. He said he'd support me, remember?"
What I don't mention is that the note was carefully vague about specifics. Father thinks I'm researching investment opportunities, not actually initiating meetings with merchant consortiums. But sometimes it's easier to apologize than ask permission.
The city is two hours by carriage. I spend the journey reviewing my proposals, making sure every detail is perfect. The Moonstone Trading Company is owned by a woman named Jin Sera—in my first life, I'd encountered her at a duchess's luncheon where she'd been treated with barely concealed contempt by the noble ladies despite her considerable wealth.
She'd been sharp, clever, and hungry for the kind of noble connections that would legitimize her nouveau-riche status. A partnership with a marquis's daughter would give her that legitimacy. And her capital would give me independence.
It's perfect. It has to work.
The Moonstone Company headquarters occupies a three-story building in the merchant district—prosperous but not ostentatious. The sign above the door is elegantly carved, the windows clean and welcoming.
I step out of the carriage and Mina follows, clutching her reticule like a shield.
"Are you certain about this?" she whispers.
"Completely." I'm not, but confidence is half the battle.
Inside, a young clerk looks up from his desk, surprise flickering across his face at seeing a noble lady in a merchant's office.
"Good morning," I say before he can speak. "I'm Lady Adeline Kael. I have an appointment with Mistress Jin."
"I... one moment, please." He scurries through a door behind the desk.
Mina leans close. "You made an appointment?"
"I sent a letter three days ago." Right after my meeting with Cassian, when I'd needed something to focus on besides the hollow feeling in my chest. "Mentioned I was interested in discussing a mutually beneficial investment opportunity."
The clerk returns, slightly flustered. "Mistress Jin will see you now. Please, follow me."
He leads us through a warren of offices where clerks bent over ledgers pause to stare. I keep my spine straight, my expression pleasant but businesslike. First impressions matter.
Jin Sera's office is on the third floor, with windows overlooking the bustling market square. She's standing when we enter—a woman perhaps thirty-five, with sharp eyes and an elegant hanbok-inspired dress that somehow balances Korean tradition with Western business fashion.
"Lady Adeline." She doesn't curtsy, just nods respectfully. "This is unexpected. I don't often receive nobility in my offices."
"I'm not here as nobility," I say, accepting the chair she gestures to. Mina hovers near the door, uncertain. "I'm here as a potential business partner."
One eyebrow rises. "Indeed? And what does a marquis's daughter know about business?"
It's a test. I recognize it immediately—she's gauging whether I'm serious or playing at being a merchant because I'm bored.
"Enough to recognize that you've been trying to expand into mining operations for the past two years but lack access to the necessary resources." I open my portfolio, sliding the first document across her desk. "This is a geological survey of the Kael territory silver deposits. Conservative estimates put the reserves at fifty thousand marks worth of extractable ore."
Jin Sera picks up the survey, eyes scanning. Her expression shifts from skeptical to interested. "Where did you get this?"
"I commissioned it. Quietly." Actually, Father had commissioned it years ago and forgotten about it in his study, but she doesn't need those details. "The mines have been underutilized for decades because my family lacks the capital for proper equipment and expertise."
"And you believe I can provide both."
"I know you can." I slide across the second document—a detailed proposal. "You provide the initial capital investment and mining expertise. House Kael provides the land, resources, and noble backing. We split profits sixty-forty."
"Sixty for me?" Her eyes glint.
"For the first five years, yes. You're taking the greater financial risk initially. After that, we renegotiate to fifty-fifty, reflecting the stabilized venture."
She leans back, studying me with new interest. "You've thought this through."
"Thoroughly." I pull out the third document—projected profit analyses, cost breakdowns, legal frameworks. Everything I'd learned watching Cassian's business managers in my first life, applied to my own family's resources.
Jin Sera spends several minutes reviewing the materials in silence. I wait, forcing myself not to fidget. Beside the door, Mina looks like she might faint from anxiety.
"This is good work," Jin finally says. "Surprisingly professional. But Lady Adeline, you must understand—even if this partnership made perfect business sense, there are social complications. I'm a merchant. You're nobility. The other noble houses won't look kindly on you mixing classes like this."
"The other noble houses can think what they like. I need income independent of marriage prospects, and you need legitimacy with the aristocracy. We can provide each other what we lack."
"Independent income." She sets down the papers. "May I ask why? Surely a marquis's daughter has no shortage of wealthy suitors."
I meet her eyes steadily. "I recently refused a very advantageous marriage because it would have made me miserable. I won't depend on another such arrangement for my security. I'd rather build my own foundation."
Something shifts in her expression. Understanding, maybe. Or respect.
"Which marriage did you refuse?"
The question is bold, almost rude. I appreciate her directness.
"Duke Cassian Vere."
Jin Sera's eyebrows shoot up. "You refused the Duke of Vere? The most eligible bachelor in the empire?"
"The coldest man I've ever met," I correct. "Eligible doesn't mean suitable."
A slow smile spreads across her face. "I think I like you, Lady Adeline. Most nobles your age are vapid creatures concerned only with fashion and gossip. You're different."
"I'm practical," I say. "And I'm offering you a genuinely profitable opportunity. The question is whether you're interested enough to overlook social complications."
She taps her fingers on the desk, clearly thinking. "I am interested. But I'll need to verify your survey data independently. And I'll want your father's formal approval—I won't partner with a daughter acting against her family's wishes."
"My father supports my pursuit of business ventures. I have it in writing." A slight exaggeration—he'd said he'd support me after reviewing results, not before. But close enough.
"Then here's what I propose." Jin Sera leans forward. "I'll send my people to survey the Kael territory, verify your data. If it checks out, we'll draw up formal partnership contracts. But Lady Adeline—" Her voice turns serious. "If we do this, you need to understand what you're committing to. This isn't a hobby. I'll expect you to be involved in decisions, to understand every aspect of the operation. Can you do that?"
"Yes." The answer comes without hesitation. "That's exactly what I want."
"Even when it means dealing with rough miners and dirty equipment? When it means spending hours reviewing ledgers and negotiating with suppliers? When the other noble ladies whisper that you've lowered yourself to trade?"
"Especially then." I think of the life I'd lived before—pretty, useless, dying while wearing pearls. "I want to matter, Mistress Jin. Not as someone's wife or someone's daughter, but as myself. This is how I do that."
She studies me for a long moment. Then extends her hand across the desk—a merchant's gesture, not a noble one.
"Partners, then. Pending verification."
I take her hand, shaking firmly. "Partners."
---
We emerge from the building two hours later, my portfolio lighter and my head spinning with details. Jin Sera had walked me through mining operations, supply chains, labor negotiations—a crash course in everything I'd need to know.
It had been exhilarating.
"Miss Adeline," Mina says carefully as we settle into the carriage. "That was..."
"Improper? Scandalous? Completely inappropriate for a lady of my station?"
"I was going to say impressive." She smiles, genuine and surprised. "You sounded like you actually knew what you were talking about."
"I did know what I was talking about." The satisfaction is warm in my chest. "And Mina? This is just the beginning. If this partnership works, House Kael will have independent income. Father won't need to marry me off for political alliances. I can choose my own path."
"You're really doing this," Mina murmurs. "Building a whole new life."
"I'm trying to." I lean back against the cushions, suddenly exhausted. The adrenaline of the meeting is wearing off, leaving behind the weight of what I've just set in motion.
If Jin Sera's survey confirms my data, if Father approves the partnership, if the mining operation proves profitable—so many ifs. But each one is within my control, dependent on my knowledge and effort rather than on whether some man decides I'm worth loving.
That's what I wanted, isn't it? A future I build rather than one I'm handed.
The carriage jolts over a rough patch of road. Through the window, I watch the city give way to countryside. Somewhere back there, Cassian is probably attending his mother's garden party, charming some more suitable bride prospect. Lady Vivienne Something-or-other, perfectly biddable and content with being valuable furniture.
Good. Let him marry someone who wants that life.
I have better plans.
But even as I think it, there's a hollow feeling in my chest that has nothing to do with business ventures or independence. The echo of the question I'd asked him, and the answer that had confirmed everything I'd feared.
*Would you love me?*
*No. I don't think I could love anyone.*
At least he'd been honest. That was worth something.
Wasn't it?
---
We arrive back at the estate as afternoon shadows lengthen. I'm preparing my explanation for Father—optimistic but carefully vague—when Mina gasps.
"My lady, look."
Following her gaze, I see another carriage in our courtyard. Black lacquer with silver trim.
The Vere carriage.
My stomach drops. "That's impossible. Why would he—"
But even as I say it, a footman is opening our carriage door, and I can see Daniel Hwang standing on our front steps. Not Cassian himself, thank God, but his Knight Commander.
What is he doing here?
I climb out slowly, trying to project calm I don't feel. "Commander Hwang. This is unexpected."
He bows, his expression carefully neutral. "Lady Adeline. I apologize for arriving unannounced. I have a message from Duke Vere."
"The Duke and I concluded our business yesterday." I keep my voice cool, pleasant. "There's nothing more to discuss."
"Nevertheless, he asked me to deliver this personally." Daniel holds out a sealed letter. "And to await your response, if you're willing to provide one."
I stare at the letter like it might bite me. The Vere seal is pressed into dark blue wax—official correspondence.
What could Cassian possibly have to say that requires a personal courier and an expected response?
"Very well." I take the letter, breaking the seal with hands that only shake slightly. "Please, come inside while I read this. Mina, ask Cook to prepare refreshments for our guest."
In Father's library—he's away at a neighboring estate for the day, thankfully—I unfold the letter while Daniel waits by the door.
The handwriting is precise, controlled. Of course it is.
---
*Lady Adeline,*
*I've spent considerable time reflecting on our conversation yesterday. You were correct in several of your observations, and I would be remiss not to acknowledge that.*
*You said I didn't know you beyond political considerations. That I'd never asked what you cared about or what made you happy. You were right. I made assumptions based on limited interaction and expected you to accept an arrangement without genuine understanding.*
*That was unfair to you.*
*I'm writing not to change your decision—I respect your refusal—but to request the opportunity to remedy my ignorance, if only to correct my own failures of understanding.*
*Would you be willing to meet again, not as potential betrothed but as two people attempting an honest conversation? No expectations, no obligations. Simply an opportunity to know each other as we should have from the beginning.*
*If you decline, I will respect that absolutely. But if you're willing, I would appreciate the chance to do better than I did yesterday.*
*Respectfully,*
*Cassian Vere*
---
I read it twice. Then a third time, searching for the trap.
This doesn't sound like Cassian. The admission of fault, the request phrased as genuine question rather than assumption—it's so different from the cold duke I remember that I almost wonder if someone else wrote it.
But the handwriting is definitely his. And Daniel wouldn't be here if this wasn't legitimate.
"Lady Adeline?" Daniel's voice is careful. "Is there a response?"
Is there? I should say no. Should maintain the boundaries I've set, refuse to be drawn back into Cassian's orbit even for "honest conversation."
But something in the letter catches at me. The acknowledgment that he'd been wrong. The willingness to admit failure.
The old Cassian—my Cassian from the first timeline—would never have written this. Would never have admitted fault or requested anything as vulnerable as the chance to know someone.
What changed?
"Tell me honestly, Commander." I look up at Daniel. "Did the Duke write this himself, or did someone help him?"
Daniel's lips twitch almost into a smile. "Every word is his, my lady. Though I will say he spent most of last night pacing his study and went through four drafts before settling on this version."
Four drafts. Cassian Vere, who never second-guessed anything, wrote four drafts of a letter asking to know me better.
That's... unexpected.
"And his mother?" I ask carefully. "How does Duchess Helena feel about the Duke pursuing further contact with the woman who refused him?"
"She doesn't know." Daniel's voice lowers conspiratorially. "And I'd prefer to keep it that way, if possible. The Duke sent me here during her garden party specifically to avoid her notice."
Interesting. Very interesting.
I look back at the letter, weighing options. Cassian wants honest conversation with no expectations. A chance to correct his failures of understanding.
It should be irrelevant. We're not getting married. What does it matter if he knows me or not?
But I remember the way he'd looked yesterday when I'd asked him to tell me something real about himself. The moment of genuine confusion, like he didn't know how to answer. Like he'd spent so long being the perfect duke that he'd forgotten who existed underneath.
And I remember dying. Remember those cold gray eyes watching as poison destroyed me from the inside.
If I meet with him again, I might understand why. Might find the answers that first timeline couldn't give me.
Or I might just be making excuses because some pathetic part of me still wants to believe he could be different.
"I need time to consider," I tell Daniel. "Can you return tomorrow for my answer?"
He bows. "Of course, my lady. Though—" He hesitates. "May I speak freely?"
"Please."
"The Duke is... not himself lately. I've known him fifteen years, and I've never seen him this unsettled." Daniel's dark eyes are serious. "Whatever you said to him yesterday got through walls I didn't think anything could penetrate. I'm not asking you to reconsider the engagement. But this letter—this attempt to actually connect with another person—that's significant for him. More than you might realize."
The words settle over me, heavy with implication. I disturbed Cassian Vere. Cracked his perfect control somehow.
Good. He deserves to be disturbed.
But do I want to be the one doing the disturbing?
"I'll send my response tomorrow," I repeat. "Thank you for the message, Commander."
After he leaves, I sit in Father's library holding Cassian's letter, reading it over and over.
*An opportunity to know each other as we should have from the beginning.*
In my first life, we never knew each other. Not really. I'd loved a fantasy while he'd barely registered my existence.
What if this time could be different?
Not for marriage—I won't risk that again. But maybe for understanding. Maybe for closure on the questions that have haunted me since I woke up in the past.
Maybe.
The word is dangerous. It opens doors I'd firmly closed.
But I'm holding the letter, and I'm considering it, and some part of me—the part that died loving him—whispers that I need to know.
Need to understand what I'm really refusing.
Who he really is beneath the ice.
Even if the answer destroys me all over again.