CHAPTER 142: CHAPTER HUNDRED AND FORTY TWO

The carriage rolled to a gentle stop on the gravel of the main courtyard. The sun was dipping low, casting long, fiery shadows across the stone façade of the Thompson estate.

Inside, the silence between them was heavy, but not uncomfortable. It was the silence of two people who had just shared a burden. Derek slowly loosened his arms from around Marissa. He sat back, straightening his coat, but his eyes lingered on her face.

The footman opened the carriage door with a click.

Marissa gathered her skirts and stepped out. The cool evening air hit her face, a welcome relief from the intense atmosphere of the carriage. She turned back, expecting Derek to follow.

But he remained seated. He leaned back into the shadows of the carriage, his face obscured.

"Aren’t you coming in?" Marissa asked, her hand resting on the doorframe. "The sun will set soon. Dinner will be served."

Derek shook his head slightly.

"I am going to the barracks," Derek spoke. His voice was low, laced with a tension that hadn’t been there before. "Ian is waiting for me there. We have... preparations to make."

He leaned forward into the light. His eyes were dark, serious.

"I’ll be back in time for us to go to the palace tomorrow for the festival," he promised. "Take care, Marissa."

Marissa could feel the fear in his voice. It wasn’t fear for himself; it was fear of what was coming. The Prince. The scrutiny. The danger.

She nodded slowly. "Okay. Take care too"

She stepped back. The footman closed the door with a solid thud. The carriage turned around and rolled away, the sound of the wheels fading into the distance.

Marissa watched it go until it disappeared through the main gates. She felt a strange emptiness in her chest.

Lily was waiting for her at the entrance door, her face bright and cheerful.

"Welcome, Your Grace," Lily curtsied deeply.

Marissa handed her the black lacquer fan. "Thank you, Lily."

They walked together through the grand halls, heading toward the east wing. The house was quiet. The servants were lighting the evening lamps.

They entered Marissa’s bedchamber. It was warm and familiar. Marissa sat down at her vanity table, the same place where she had read the note that morning. It felt like a lifetime ago.

Lily stood behind her. She began to carefully remove the hairpins from Marissa’s hair, one by one. She hummed a sweet, simple tune as she worked, her fingers deft and gentle.

Marissa stared at her reflection in the mirror. She saw a woman who looked composed, elegant, and powerful. But inside, she felt like a mess of tangled emotions.

The question had been bothering her since Derek hugged her in the carriage. Since she felt his heart beating against hers. Since she realized she didn’t want him to let go.

"Lily," Marissa said softly.

Lily stopped humming. "Yes, Your Grace?"

Marissa took a deep breath. She looked at Lily in the mirror.

"How do you know," Marissa asked, her voice hesitant, "that you have fallen in love with someone?"

Lily’s humming choked in her throat. She coughed, surprised. Her hands froze in Marissa’s hair.

"Your Grace?" Lily squeaked. Her eyes went wide.

Marissa turned her head slightly to look at Lily directly. Her expression was knowing.

"You think I don’t notice how you look at Ian?" Marissa asked, raising an eyebrow. "You blush every time he walks into the room. Spill it out now."

Lily’s face turned a bright, beet red. She cleared her throat, trying to regain her composure. She resumed brushing Marissa’s hair, but her movements were a little faster now.

"Well," Lily started, her voice shy. "When you see them... you are instantly happy."

She smiled, her eyes softening as she thought of the stoic guard.

"No matter how bad the day went," Lily continued, "or how foul your mood is... seeing them brightens your mood. It feels like the sun coming out."

Marissa nodded slowly, thinking of Derek’s smile in the garden. Thinking of how his presence made the scary moments feel manageable.

"Is that so?" Marissa murmured.

"Yes, Your Grace," Lily said, nodding vigorously.

She warmed to the subject.

"You think about them always," Lily said. "Even when you are doing other things. And... you get angry at them for little to no reason."

Marissa frowned. She remembered being angry at Derek for being late. She remembered being angry at him for the dress.

"That sounds familiar," Marissa thought.

"You don’t like seeing them hurt or in trouble," Lily continued, her voice growing more passionate. "When they are in danger, your heart hurts. You think of any possible way to help them, even if it is risky."

Marissa thought of the raid at the Golden Swan. She thought of how she had jumped into the fray without hesitation to save him.

"And..." Lily paused. The blush on her cheeks deepened to a dark crimson. She lowered her voice to a whisper.

"...and when they touch you," Lily said, "or say sweet things to you... your body reacts. Your heart beats fast. Your stomach feels funny. You feel... hot."

Marissa went still. She remembered the carriage. The hug. The heat of his body. The way her breath had hitched. Even the other day in her room when he came to clear himself of Senna’s accusations. The way his hands sent shivers down her spine. The way his voice sounded like music to her ears.

She nodded slowly. It all fit. Every single symptom.

Then, her mind caught on something.

She turned around in her chair, facing Lily. Her eyes narrowed.

"Wait!" Marissa said sharply. "Ian touched you?"

Lily gasped. She dropped the hairbrush. It clattered onto the floor. She covered her mouth with her hands, her eyes wide with panic.

"No... I... I didn’t say that!" Lily stammered. "I mean... not like that! It just happened ... accidentally! His hand brushed mine when he gave me a letter! That is all!"