The next morning, Della was stirred from sleep by the maids bustling around her room.
She still didn't know where Lord Lucas planned to take her, and the uncertainty weighed on her. Slipping into a pale blue dress, she draped her coat over her shoulders...strange, considering West Hill wasn't in its chilly season. The sun had barely risen, yet the mansion felt unnaturally quiet.
Gloves in place, she descended to the dining room, surprised to find it empty.
"Mi'lord will be joining you shortly," one of the maids informed her as she set the table.
Della nodded. Not like she was looking forward to sharing a meal with him. Still, the absence made her miss the warm, bustling mornings with the Harrisons.
"Eating without me already?" came that familiar, teasing voice behind her.
She turned, startled to find Lord Lucas standing just within the doorway.
"Good morning, my lord," she murmured, bowing her head slightly.
He sat down, his sharp eyes briefly scanning her before falling to his plate. Despite herself, Della felt a strange calm settle. She didn't like this man...but it was better than eating alone.
The maids moved quickly, serving him with trained grace. Then, with a surprising motion, he lifted a slice of meat from his own plate and set it gently on hers.
"You should eat well," he said without looking up.
Della blinked, unsure what to make of the gesture.
"Where are we going?" she asked, glancing at him before fixing her eyes back on her food.
"You shouldn't be so impatient, Delilah," he drawled, letting the name linger as though savoring it.
Her brow furrowed. That was the Lord Lucas she knew—teasing, unreadable, always dancing around meaning.
After breakfast, they left together. Oliver hadn't returned, and Della wondered if the mansion ever saw visitors beyond its two inhabitants. She knew so little about Lucas—his past, his family, his world.
They sat opposite each other in the carriage. Della kept her gaze fixed on the trees racing past the windows.
"Mi'lord?" she ventured after a while.
He hummed, acknowledging her softly.
"Do you have any siblings?"
Lucas's crimson gaze slid to hers. For a moment, he said nothing.
"I did. A sister. She died with my parents when I was a boy."
Della's lips parted slightly. His voice was devoid of emotion, like he was stating a simple fact rather than a tragedy.
Her chest tightened. She had lost her mother young, but she'd still had the Harrisons. Lucas, on the other hand, had grown up without anyone. That kind of loneliness...she couldn't fathom it.
"You're making them proud," she said softly, offering a small smile.
No apologies. No pity. Just truth.
Lucas smiled...an almost imperceptible one, but real. He was grateful, she realized, that she hadn't treated him like something broken.
"I avenged them," he said after a pause. "Their murderers... their blood was refreshing."
His tone was so calm, it made her blood chill. She couldn't tell if he was joking or just being honest in his own macabre way.
Before she could respond, the carriage wheels groaned to a halt.
"We're here," he said, stepping out first.
He reached his hand toward her. Hesitating, she finally placed her gloved fingers in his.
Her gaze swept around.
Black Bridge.
The cold air bit into her cheeks as she stepped onto the ground, a place she never thought she'd return to. The village still held that heavy, haunted silence.
"You alright?" Lucas asked, watching her closely.
"Yes... but why are we here?"
"Curiosity," he replied shortly.
Della frowned. He was never straightforward when it came to intentions.
They walked together, her coat billowing behind her. Eventually, they reached the magistrate's home.
"Don't drink anything he offers," she whispered sharply.
Lucas turned, surprised. "So... you've been here."
She nodded once, recalling the strange hospitality and the unsettling aura of the magistrate's household. She hadn't told Lucas how she'd managed to drink the tea...how her body could purify poisons thanks to a rare gift she didn't yet understand.
Lucas knocked. The door opened to reveal the magistrate's daughter, her expression shifting the moment she saw Della. But at the sight of Lord Lucas, her face lit up with girlish excitement.
"Good day, sire," she said, voice soft and coy.
Della's eyes dropped to the girl's stomach. The bump was more visible now.
"Is the magistrate home?" Lucas asked politely.
"He's on his way," she replied, stepping aside. "You can wait for him."
They entered, the scent of perfumed wood and dry herbs filling the room. Lucas's eyes swept over the furnishings before he sat down. Della joined him, careful not to show discomfort.
"Are you another councilman?" the girl asked curiously.
Lucas glanced at Della before replying. "Yes."
The girl looked between them, clearly wondering why this councilwoman had returned so soon.
"Taking care of your health?" Della asked calmly, her eyes resting on the girl's face.
The girl stiffened. "Yes, of course. Why do you ask, mi'lady?"
"Because of the human growing inside you," Della said flatly.
Silence. The girl's expression froze, and Lucas—who had been quietly watching...arched a brow with amusement.
Della didn't flinch. The game had begun.