In the towering halls of Ravenshade Manor, the morning passed like molasses. The rain hadn't returned to Eldhollow, but something colder did—a presence, heavy and lingering. It clung to Lord Julian like an invisible cloak he couldn't shake.
The Greydock's town guard had done his usual job of announcing Elowen's absence. Seraphine had added salt with her smirking commentary about Rosebury's Finer Inn. That name alone echoed in Julian's mind like an insult.
He tried to distract himself. Walked through the east hall. Reviewed old ledgers. Practiced sword stances in the training room.
Nothing worked.
With a sigh, he stepped out to the front steps of the manor, pulling his coat tighter—not from cold, but from the rising tension in his blood.
That was when he heard the voice. He sighed his officers at the Manor's carriage park. Only an urgent report would bring them to his manor at dawn.
He apparated at the front wing and walked outside to where they stood.
"Good morning, Lord Julian."
Johnnie, one of his most efficient Secretariat staff, bowed slightly as he approached. The detective also bowed.
Julian nodded. "Morning, Johnnie. Step in."
Johnnie followed him inside, a scroll in hand.
"This was delivered an hour ago," Johnnie explained, passing it to the Lord.
Julian scanned the document with his sharp gaze. Blackstone trades. Underground movements. And—
"We traced the trader of the major blackstones," Johnnie said. "He's delivering them this morning. In Rosebury."
Julian's brow lifted.
"Along with a siren," Johnnie added.
The words hit like a blade dipped in ice.
Julian's jaw tightened. "Where in Rosebury?"
Johnnie hesitated. "An inn… elegant interior, ivy-covered walls, gilded woodwork."
Julian's smirk cut through his silence like a dagger.
"And where do you think that is, Johnnie?"
Johnnie met his gaze. "Rosebury's Finer Inn, my Lord."
Julian didn't need another word. He turned on his heels.
"Prepare the carriage. Bring the detective and my staff." he said to a guard.
He didn't want to apparate. He could—easily—but not with staff. And not when things needed to be seen clearly by more than just his own eyes.
The Ravenshade carriage tore down the roads like a beast unleashed. Its build was meant for speed and protection, reinforced with old magic and blessed wood.
Julian sat inside, silent, his gloved hand twitching on the hilt of his dagger. The only sound was the pounding of hooves and the relentless rhythm of purpose.
They arrived in Rosebury in under half an hour.
The carriage pulled to a stop in front of the inn. Its gilded sign danced in the sunlight.
Johnnie and the detective stepped down first, coats sharp, eyes scanning.
Julian followed.
They stepped into the inn, the door swinging open into warm candlelight and polished wood. The soft hum of a harpsichord filled the room.
Only a few tables were occupied.
And at one—near the far arch of a window—sat Elowen.
---
She hadn't noticed them at first. The morning had been too perfect. Her laughter with Ewan still echoed in her throat. He had just told her a story about a nobleman who mistook a magical wig for a mermaid and tried to court it.
But then the door opened.
Three men stepped in, dressed not in noble fashion, but in coats tailored for function. They moved differently—eyes like hawks, posture like wolves.
Her body stiffened slightly.
She didn't recognize anyone but_
But her breath caught the moment she saw the third man walk in.
Julian.
His presence silenced the very walls. He was dressed in black and grey—elegant but commanding. His eyes flicked around the room, calculated and cold. His posture regal, but his gaze?
His gaze found her.
And she felt it like a flame brushing her throat.
Ewan turned toward the entrance, eyes narrowing.
"They're from the Secretariat," he said calmly. "They must be on an investigation."
Elowen nodded, composing herself. "Or… they might just be stopping in for a snack."
Ewan chuckled. "You're clever."
But her fingers tightened slightly on her cup. Her heart was beating faster now.
Julian's mouth curved into something unreadable.
A smirk?
No. A warning.
At the back of the room, Johnnie leaned toward the Lord. "No sign of an actual trade."
The detective looked around. "I'll do a quiet scout—"
"No need," Julian interrupted.
Both Johnnie and the detective turned.
Julian's eyes were narrowed, and his voice dipped low.
"There's a scent."
Johnnie sniffed the air. "Faint…"
"A small of the sea lingers here," Julian said. "It fades by the second. The trade has already been made."
He paused.
"But…"
Johnnie inhaled slowly again. "The trader is still here," he finished, gaze sharpening.
Back at Ewan Blair's table, Elowen sipped her tea carefully, trying to ignore the way her body reacted to the storm across the room.
Ewan glanced between her and the corner where Julian sat.
"You know him personally?" he asked gently.
Elowen blinked. "My employer."
"Just that?"
Her breath hitched. "Of course."
"Because the way he looked at you…" Ewan trailed off. "It didn't seem very employerly."
Elowen forced a smile. "Lord Ravenshade… is complicated."
"Complicated men usually leave complicated ruins."
She tilted her head. "And yet you sound like you've done your share of ruin."
Ewan smiled faintly. "Not ruin. Discovery."
Before she could reply, she felt it again.
That pull.
She dared glance across the room.
Julian's fingers tapped once on the table. His eyes met hers—unwavering, unreadable.
And she suddenly felt like she was burning alive in silk.
---
The detective returned with a slight nod toward Julian.
"There's movement in the east hallway. A hooded man dropped a sealed blackstone box to a maid who didn't know better."
Julian stood. "Secure him. Quietly."
Johnnie moved. Two shadows followed him out.
Julian didn't.
He remained there.
Watching.
Elowen tried to look away. She couldn't.
Ewan noticed.
"Are you alright?"
She nodded. "Yes… just—" she paused. "—it's getting warm."
Ewan smiled, standing. "We'll get fresh air, then."
He offered her his hand.
She took it.
But behind them, the eyes of a Lord followed every motion.
He smirked _"complicated, hmmm?"