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Selene, Duchess of Drakefell, sits in the bower house, fingers tracing the edge of an old embroidery hoop she has not touched in days. Dust clings to the air, caught in the waning afternoon light that filters through the warped shutters. Nocturne Hall looms in the distance, a silhouette of stone and sorrow against the Ashvold Mountains. It is not a home, not truly. Just another place she is meant to exist in.

The bower house is in no better condition—drafty, half-forgotten, like everything else here. She supposes she cannot blame the Duke for that. The estate belonged to her grandmother, after all.

Or at least, ithad.

When they first arrived here a few months ago, she tried to make it comfortable, but the damp seeped into the walls, thewind through the cracks, and the loneliness into her bones. Things had been strained before then, of course, but Selene had hoped that the move might change… something.

And it had. She’d barely seen her husband in weeks. Despite how remote Nocturne Hall is, the Duke has found a task to consume him—reopening the mines that everyone knows are empty.

But he would rather chase a ghost than revel in her warmth. There’s pain in that, but relief too.

Next month will mark their anniversary. Almost a year of marriage, and she has nothing to show for it except a ring she no longer wears and a name that is not truly hers.

Cassie hums softly as she mends a tear in Selene’s winter coat. It is spring now, but the climate here is cold, and Selene will have need of the coat for another month yet at least. Cassie is the only company Selene has, save for the occasional visit from the house steward or the letters from her mother and friends. Selene does not reply to them. What would she even say? That her husband barely speaks to her? That he has buried himself in his work, whispering of mines that hold no wealth?

That when he does speak to her, his words squirm under her skin, and even his compliments seem to bite?

What an unusual shade, my dear. Not many women could pull it off.

Your voice is so soft. One might almost mistake you for being shy.

I must say, your composure is admirable. Others might take offense at my words.

You look so much better with your hair up. It hides the sharpness of your features.

She exhales slowly, pressing her fingers to her temples. Even when he’s not with her, she can hear him.

She hates the silence. She wants distraction, noise. She longs for parties and friends and music and dancing—andfears it, too. She will have to pretend in front of so many people.

She wants to smile and it hurts to do so.

Give me joy again,she begs the Divine Four.Aurelius, Silver Star, guide me from this place. Liriel, Water-Keeper, bring me change. Veridia, Green Mother, give me life. Vannor, Flameforger, destroy my solitude. Bring me laughter and light and noise—

The mountain roars.

A tremor rolls through the ground, shaking the bower house to its foundations. The wooden beams creak, the shutters rattle, and Cassie’s needle slips from her fingers. A dull boom follows, deep and thunderous, as if the mountain itself has been torn apart.

Selene’s heart pounds. She lurches to her feet, ignoring the way her chair scrapes against the floor. “What was that?”

Cassie stares, brown eyes blown wide. “The mines.”

The mines. Her stomach twists. The Duke has insisted for months that he can make them profitable again, despite the warnings, despite the records stating they were long since emptied. She has never believed him. But now—

How deep has he gone?

She strides to the door, flinging it open. A plume of dust rises in the distance, curling into the grey sky like smoke.

Cassie hesitates. “Your Grace, should we—”

Selene doesn’t let herself think. She gathers her skirts and steps into the cold, gravel biting into her slippers. Cassie scrambles after her. Together, they make their way down the uneven path toward the source of the disturbance.

Selene hardly knows what she expects to find, or what she’ll do. Will there be injuries? Can she help if there are?

What if the Duke is hurt?

What if she wants him to be?

As they crest the hill, the wind shifts, and the dust clears just enough for Selene to see the figures below.