Henry stood at a distance, his gaze fixed on the dance floor.
On them.
His half-brother… and the girl.
The same girl.
The one who had nearly killed him.
His jaw tightened slightly as the memory flickered through his mind—sharp, vivid, impossible to ignore. He had been certain then, in that moment, that she was nothing more than a maid. Just another face among many, easily overlooked.
Yet now—
She stood at the center of the ballroom, clad in silk and fire, moving as though she had always belonged among nobility. And Leonard… Leonard was not merely dancing with her.
He was invested.
Focused.
Present in a way Henry had never seen before.
It unsettled him.
His curiosity deepened, coiling quietly within him, urging him closer—urging him to understand who she truly was, what she was.
But fear held him in place.
He had seen what she could do.
And that memory was not one he could easily dismiss.
