CHAPTER 255: TO HANDLE DANGER

Lorraine stood by the marble balcony that overlooked the ballroom, her lips curved in a faint smile as she watched the sea of laughter and music below. The chandeliers glittered above like captured constellations, scattering light over silk gowns, flushed cheeks, and swirling skirts. The scent of honeyed wine and spiced meat drifted through the air, mingling with the hum of violins and the pulse of drums.

Her maids were radiant tonight. The younger ones blushed furiously as the men they fancied gathered the courage to ask them for a dance; the older ones clapped along, spinning with abandon, their laughter deep and uninhibited. Even the footmen who usually stood in corners now dared a glass of wine, their faces glowing red. Lorraine had wanted this day to belong to them, to those who had served, suffered, and smiled through every storm.

At the center of it all, Emma twirled across the floor with Elias. Or rather... tried to. He moved stiffly, his injured arm betraying him, but there was such earnest determination in his clumsy steps that it almost broke Lorraine’s composure. Emma’s laughter rang like a bell, her hand steadying his shoulder, her eyes soft with something unspoken. Their rhythm was uneven, their steps mismatched, but it was the sincerest dance in the room.

Lorraine’s smile wavered. How long had it been since she and Leroy had shared a dance? Ten years, perhaps more. Today could have been the day. For a heartbeat, she imagined his hand at her waist, the scent of leather and woods close enough to breathe...

Then sighed, brushing the thought away. The emperor’s call had stolen him again.

Still, the joy in the room was infectious. She wanted to hold on to this brief illusion of peace.

Her gaze drifted toward the far end of the hall, searching for Aldric and Sylvia. Newly engaged, the two should have been laughing somewhere, lost in their little world. But their faces were nowhere to be seen.

A small crease formed between her brows. She glanced toward the doors, expecting to see one or two guards at their posts. There were none. Her eyes darted to the windows. The guards who had been stationed by the courtyard walls had vanished, too.

It had happened so quietly, so naturally, that she hadn’t even noticed until now. And that only meant... it was the work of Aldric. And if Aldric did this, then it only meant...

Danger!

The music still played, the laughter still rang. But beneath it, something in the air shifted; an invisible weight pressing against her chest. The merriment suddenly felt fragile, like glass stretched too thin.

Her hand tightened around the railing.

Something was wrong. Terribly wrong.

Lorraine stepped out of the ballroom, the air beyond the gilded doors unnervingly still after the laughter and music inside. The corridor stretched before her, lined with tall windows that poured in the soft amber light of late afternoon. Then there were footsteps; Urgent and unrestrained.

Aldric appeared from the far end of the hall, his usually composed stride broken into a near run. When his eyes found hers, relief washed over his face. "I was just coming for you, Your Highness," he breathed, the words tumbling out too fast, too raw. "Quickly! Change into common clothes. They’re here. The emperor’s secret guard... he’s sent them for you."

Before she could even form a question, his hand closed around hers. It was shockingly warm, firm, and entirely improper. A steward never touched a crown princess. Yet Lorraine felt no indignation, only the pulse of his fear and determination thrumming through his grip as he pulled her down the corridor.

He was thinking fast; too fast. Every turn, every step, carried the rhythm of a man calculating a hundred escape routes at once. And beneath that, Lorraine sensed something gentler: the instinct of a protector, fierce and unhesitating. Like a father clutching his child’s hand in a storm, Aldric’s hold was not command, it was promise. You’ll be safe. Move.

Her jaw tightened. Even through the panic, her lips curved faintly. Effective, and kind. Trust Aldric to keep his wits even when the world began to burn.

"This was bound to happen," she murmured, more to herself than to him. "The emperor draws Leroy out and sends his hounds for me."

Aldric didn’t answer. His eyes were fixed ahead, his shoulders taut.

At last, as they neared the stairs that led to her chambers, he spoke, voice grim. "Your identity is out."

Lorraine halted. "Who?"

"Cedric," Aldric said quietly.

Her gaze sharpened, blue eyes flashing like tempered glass. "Cedric?"

"It’s Leroy’s doing," Aldric replied, his expression softening with reluctant understanding. "Part of his plan. But he’s not here yet. We’re on our own."

Lorraine inhaled slowly, forcing the rising tide of fear back into her chest. On our own, she repeated inwardly. Then she lifted her chin.

"So be it."

"Why aren’t the bells ringing, Aldric?" Lorraine asked, her voice steady, though her pulse betrayed her calm.

If danger truly loomed outside these walls, the great bronze bells of the mansion should have already been tolling, low, mournful, and thunderous, to warn every servant, every guard, every soul under her roof. But the air was still. The music from the ballroom, faint and oblivious, carried like a cruel echo down the empty corridors.

Aldric’s jaw tightened. He didn’t answer. Instead, he only gripped her hand tighter and walked faster.

Lorraine’s stomach sank as understanding dawned. He had silenced the bells on purpose. He wasn’t calling for defense; he was preparing her escape. With everyone gathered in the ballroom, her absence would go unnoticed long enough for her to vanish through the tunnels beneath the manor. A clean, quiet disappearance.

Her lips parted in realization... and then pressed together in refusal.

The confusion would protect her, yes. But it would also leave her people defenseless. The laughter, the dancing, the music... they were all celebrating her name. Trusting her. To flee while they bled would be unforgivable.

"Ring the bells, Aldric," she commanded, wrenching her arm from his grasp.

He stopped, exhaling through his nose in weary frustration, the lines around his mouth deepening. "Your Highness, we cannot—"

But before he could finish, a soft sound echoed behind them. The sound of hesitant footsteps approached. Aldric’s hand tightened on the hilt of his sword. Lorraine turned to see Emma standing there, wide-eyed, the light from the chandeliers catching the sheen of sweat on her brow. She must have followed her mistress, sensing trouble.

"Emma!" Lorraine’s voice rang through the corridor, sharp as steel. "Ring the bells and stay with Elias!"

The young maid froze, her face pale. They both knew what the bells meant. They had known what it meant, they knew what to do when the bells rang. But they’ve never done it before. Never had to.

"Run, Emma! Warn the others!" Lorraine pressed.

Emma nodded, the tremor in her chin betraying her fear, and darted down the hall. Lorraine caught a glimpse of Elias rushing after her, sword already drawn. Relief washed over her, if only for a heartbeat.

Then she turned to Aldric, her voice softer, almost pleading. "And you—you should be with Sylvia. I already told you to stay with her. Leroy will be here."

It might all seem confusing, but she knew Leory would be here.

Aldric didn’t reply. His silence was heavy, burdened by something unspoken, as he led her toward her bedchambers.

When he opened the door, Lorraine froze.

Sylvia stood there, dressed in Lorraine’s gown. Her hair was styled the same, her posture trained, her expression calm. For a moment, it was like looking into a mirror.

Lorraine’s breath caught in her throat.

She understood immediately.

And the horror of what they planned settled like lead in her chest.