The bathwater was perfect—neither too hot nor too cold.
Cassian eased into it with a sigh, letting the warmth pull the tension from his weary muscles.
The scent of lavender and bergamot drifted through the air, mingling with the soft flicker of candlelight.
In this quiet, weightless moment, he let go of the gnawing fear in his chest.
He was here.
He had a second chance.
But even peace was fleeting.
Soon the water cooled against his skin, and a gentle knock sounded once more.
"Young master... the Duchess has arrived," Jamie said softly from the door.
Cassian's fingers tensed against the edge of the tub.
Duchess Ariadne. Her arrival had been the first thread unraveling the web of destruction.
He rose from the bath, steeling himself.
---
Jamie dressed him with careful precision: a deep grey coat, silver trim, the house sigil pinned discreetly over his heart. Every detail whispered restraint and dignity—a shield as effective as any armor.
Cassian checked his reflection once before stepping into the sitting room.
---