The rain had stopped by morning, leaving the city washed clean. The light was thin, diffused through clouds that promised more storms to come.
Charlton Daniel, Grand Duke of Suffox, stepped out of his car before the Ministry of Justice, coat collar raised against the wind. His movements were precise, economical — the kind of grace that came from habit, not vanity.
He'd barely slept.
Not because of doubt — that had burned away after Leonard handed him the documents and he investigated everything else himself — but because certainty could be its own kind of torment.
Geoffrey drugged her.
He'd read it in the physician's handwriting, seen the evidence laid out like a confession.
Dates, signatures, vials, payments — every line of it an indictment against the crown prince he had once served and despised.
And through it all, one thought haunted him: She had told the truth.
