Chapter 4

Cassian had everything ready within minutes. The terrace was laid out with heavy blankets and patio heaters, wind-proof lanterns set all around, a long table covered with wine and small plates. He even sent every member of staff away, leaving just the two of us.

"You used to pick a fight every time I tried to sit down with you." Cassian filled my glass. "Never gave me the chance to have a drink with you."

I watched the amber liquid swirl in my glass and said nothing.

He took my silence as agreement, and his mood lifted even more.

"You're so much easier these days. I'll make time for you whenever I can from now on." He leaned back in his chair, already painting the future. "Tomorrow I'll have the nursery set up. And I hope it's a girl." He looked at me, smiling. "She'll have your gray eyes and your chestnut hair. When she's older, I'll teach her to ride myself."

My fingers tightened around the glass.

The baby who should have been loved by both of us was already gone, the blood long since scrubbed away. And he was sitting here planning a future for a child who no longer existed.

The hollow place inside me tore open again. The pain made it hard to breathe.

"Vivienne, what's wrong?" Cassian reached over and covered my hand, his face full of concern. "You look terrible."

I looked at him.

This was how Cassian used to look at me. Back when he had just taken over as boss of the Vasari Family. He'd stood outside Halcyon Hall alone, chasing me. A blizzard had closed the mountain road, frost covered his coat, and he'd held a Frostline rose in his fist.

"Don't give me that speech about your duty to the Concordat. Don't tell me you're meant to be an Arbiter." His eyes had burned with something stubborn and pure. "I want you to be my wife. Not even the Concordat can stop me."

Looking at him then, I had finally given in.

For me, he had taken on the whole world alone. And for him, I had given up my seat at the Concordat, along with everything it had given me.

But now he didn't even know our baby was dead.

I swallowed the bitterness rising in my throat and got ready to tell him the truth.

"Cassian, there's something I need to tell you—"

Hurried footsteps sounded outside the terrace. A guard rushed up the steps and stopped at the bottom.

"Boss, Ms. Crane's personal maid is here to see you."

Cassian cut me off without a second thought. "Bring her in. Now."

I bit down on my lower lip. My mouth filled with the taste of iron.

The maid came in with her head lowered, her voice shaking.

"Ms. Crane was arranging flowers and a champagne flute broke in her hand. She cut her finger, and it won't stop bleeding."

A scratch from a piece of broken glass. But Cassian's face changed instantly. He stood up and didn't even look at me.

"Take me to her."

I watched his back as he left, and felt nothing but bitter irony.

Three days ago, I'd begged at the gates of Larkspur, doubled over in pain, and he'd called it making a fuss. Now Delphine had a tiny cut, and he couldn't spare another second.

Cassian took two steps, then seemed to remember something. He turned back.

"Right. What were you about to say?"

Moonlight fell across his face, lighting up the eyes I had once loved so much.

I looked at him, and whatever warmth I had left turned to ash.

"Nothing." I raised my glass and took a small sip. "Go ahead."

Cassian hesitated, studying me. Maybe my expression was too calm. He frowned slightly, but he didn't press.

"Wait for me here. I'll be back soon."

Then he followed the maid off the terrace.

Only when his footsteps had faded completely did I stand up and go back to my room.

The small, pitifully light bag by the bed was already packed. Inside were only my old Arbiter's robe, my copy of the Arbiter's Oath and Precedents, and the little silver bell that was supposed to hang over a crib that would never be used.

Seven years. Nothing else worth taking.

I laid the signed divorce papers on the nightstand and set the phone the Family had issued me on top of them. Then I picked up the bag and walked out of the Vasari estate. The heavy gates closed slowly behind me.

I went down the long drive, through the pines, past the gatehouse and the last outer checkpoint. The stone pillars at the end of the road stood in the moonlight, white as frost.

I stepped through them.

A black sedan sat under the trees, its lights off, a Concordat seal on the door. An old attendant in gray stood waiting beside it.

"Thank heavens," he said softly. "You've finally come back, Arbiter."