Madeline stood at the center of the grand banquet hall, silently overseeing the staff as they added the final decorations. Her gaze was sharp, scrutinizing every detail with an intensity that kept the workers on edge. 

"Poppy, make sure they wipe the floors again after this. There was something spilled in that corner earlier," she said, not taking her eyes off the arrangements. 

"Of course, Your Grace," Poppy responded, bowing slightly before hurrying off. 

Just then, Martin, the family butler, entered, carrying a silver tray with a single letter resting on it. 

"Your Grace, this just arrived for you," he said, presenting the letter delicately. 

Without a glance, Madeline took it, still focused on the decorations. She absentmindedly broke the seal, her attention elsewhere until she finally looked down. Her eyes froze on the brief note, and a wave of confusion washed over her. 

The letter contained only one line. 

Dear Duke and Duchess Carlisle von Edmonton, I regret that I am unable to attend. 

Signed, Viscountess Catherine Sinclair. 

Madeline’s hand tightened around the letter as she read it again, her thoughts spinning. She still holds a grudge? Why else would Catherine refuse such an invitation? 

Madeline’s mind churned, old memories bubbling to the surface. The image of Catherine from years ago—always so poised, so perfect despite her lower status—flashed before her eyes. Has she really not moved on after all these years? The rejection felt like a slap, reigniting a past she had hoped was long buried. 

“Is everything alright, Your Grace?” Poppy asked, her voice tinged with concern. She had noticed the subtle shift in Madeline’s expression. 

Madeline forced herself to straighten up, her face returning to its usual calm, calculating mask. "Yes, it’s fine," she said, brushing off the matter with a wave of her hand. "I’ll be back later to check on the progress. Make sure everything is perfect for tomorrow’s banquet." 

Poppy nodded and watched as the duchess exited the hall, but the slight tension in Madeline’s posture was unmistakable. The confidence she had radiated earlier now seemed to falter. What was in that letter? Poppy wondered as she resumed her duties. 

Madeline strode through the grand corridors of the duke’s mansion, her mind spinning with Catherine’s rejection. She had never been refused—certainly not as Duchess. The audacity of it stung, stirring a bitterness she thought long buried. Not only had Catherine refused her, but it was also clear she hadn’t forgotten the past. 

She paced back and forth in her room, her thoughts racing. How dare she reject my invitation? The idea gnawed at her, a challenge to the perfection she had built over the years. And yet, despite the lingering anger, a small, rational voice whispered, we were just children. Maybe she has her reasons. Madeline halted mid-step, staring out the window. It had been years, and perhaps Catherine had moved on. She should too. 

Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to gather her composure. None of it matters now, she told herself firmly. What’s done is done. 

For now, she would put her mind back on what mattered most: ensuring her family's place in the capital's elite, no matter what ghosts from the past resurfaced. 

Madeline turned sharply on her heel, determination blazing in her eyes. Tomorrow’s banquet must be flawless. 

The banquet was everything Madeline expected—flawless. Sebastian, Lillian, and Henry stood as shining examples of her pride, each one polished and poised. As usual, Jonas played his role as the dutiful husband and host, standing at her side with the same practiced charm. Another impeccable event, executed with perfection, too polished for anyone to criticize. 

As the evening wound down, Madeline found herself in the company of her closest noble sorority in a private salon, where tea and gossip flowed freely. 

“Madeline, haven’t you heard about Viscount Sinclair?” Lady Vivienne Monroe asked, a sly smile curling on her lips. Madeline kept her composure, though a flicker of discomfort stirred within her. 

“Yes, isn’t that Catherine’s husband?” chimed in Countess Rose Fontaine, Madeline’s oldest and most trusted friend. “What about him?” 

“At the Marchioness’s garden party, it’s been said they’ve practically lost their fortune. They’re nothing more than people with titles now,” Vivienne continued, pausing to sip her tea. “Apparently, his wife and daughter fled to the capital, leaving the Viscount to clean up the mess.” 

Gasps rippled through the room, distaste and judgment etched across every face. 

“Well, isn’t that what she deserves, Madeline?” Rose remarked, leaning forward. “After all, she pretended to be so perfect back then—didn’t she steal something from you?” Eyes turned toward Madeline, waiting for her reaction. 

Inside, Madeline felt her composure slipping. Catherine’s reappearance was dredging up memories she had spent years suppressing. Why now? Why is this happening again? A familiar fear crept in—what if they find out the truth?—but she quickly quelled it. No, that will never happen. 

Taking a steadying breath, she lifted her chin. “That was years ago, Rose. We were all young, and we’ve all made mistakes. We’ve all grown since then,” Madeline said, but the turmoil beneath her composed surface felt dangerously close to breaking through. 

Her tone was graceful, the perfect response to divert the conversation, though the turmoil continued to churn beneath the surface. As the topic shifted to the upcoming term at Ashwood Academy, Madeline silently reminded herself of her carefully constructed facade—no cracks could show tonight. 

The banquet had come to an end, and Madeline stood by the large bay windows in her private sitting room, gazing out at the moonlit gardens. The soft hum of servants cleaning up the remnants of the evening echoed faintly down the hall, yet her thoughts were elsewhere. As always, everything had been perfect, flawless even. And yet, an unshakable tension lingered within her. 

Jonas entered quietly, his jacket undone and his tie loosened—a rare sight. In public, he always appeared perfectly composed, but in these quiet moments alone, Madeline saw the man beneath the titles and duties. 

“Well, another perfect evening, as always,” Jonas said, his voice warm but weary as he poured himself a glass of brandy from the decanter. “You’ve outdone yourself, Madeline. The guests couldn’t stop talking about how grand the evening was.” 

Madeline’s lips curved into a small smile, though her gaze remained fixed on the gardens. “I’m glad they were satisfied,” she replied, her tone neutral. 

Jonas joined her by the window, his presence comforting in the stillness. He took a sip of his drink, studying her for a moment before speaking. 

“I know that look,” Jonas said softly, resting his hand gently on the small of her back. “You’re not satisfied. Even with everything going off without a hitch, something’s still bothering you.” 

Madeline sighed quietly, her shoulders tensing slightly. He always saw through her composure. 

“Nothing to worry about,” she murmured, still not taking her eyes off the moonlit garden. “It’ll all work itself out in time.” 

Jonas didn’t press her further, knowing her well enough to understand when she needed space. “Will you be coming to bed soon?” he asked, his voice soft. 

“In a moment” she replied as Jonas disappeared into the adjoining room, leaving her alone with her thoughts once again. 

Soon enough the day had arrived and the excitement of the new school term filled the air as carriages lined the streets leading up to Ashwood Academy. 

“I could have ridden my bike. Honestly, mother, isn’t this a bit much?” Elena sighed, peeking out the window of their horse-drawn carriage. 

“What kind of mother would I be if I let you do that on your first day at Ashwood, no less?” Catherine countered, her voice firm, though her eyes softened. “Your father and grandparents are excited enough as it is. Should I tell them I let you come on your own, on a bike?” 

Elena slumped back against the seat, a defeated smile forming on her lips. “Fine, mother. I take it back. I just didn’t want to be a hassle.” 

“You’re never a hassle.” Catherine shifted closer, her hand resting gently on Elena’s. “I know it’s not like Valtara here, and things may feel... different. But please, be careful. Don’t ruffle any feathers.” 

“I understand,” Elena said, pulling her mother into a reassuring hug. “We’ll only be here for a short while. I’ll do my best, for father, for everyone.” 

Catherine smiled, though the weight of her unspoken worries pressed on her chest. How had she raised such an independent daughter, so strong and kind? “Thank you, Elena.” 

Before Catherine could dwell on her emotions, the carriage jolted to a stop. 

“What’s the matter, Tomas? Have we arrived?” she asked, peering out the window. 

“My apologies, Lady Sinclair,” Tomas replied. “There are quite a few carriages ahead of us, but we’ll be at the drop-off soon.” 

Elena shifted uneasily in her seat. The sight of the prestigious academy loomed ahead, bringing a wave of nerves. Everything will be okay, she reminded herself. But her mind wandered. Will I see Sebastian today? The memory of the poised boy from the bookstore lingered in her thoughts. 

“We’ve arrived, Lady Sinclair,” Tomas announced, stepping down to open the door. 

As Catherine and Elena stepped out, they took in the grandeur of the academy. The towering spires, the intricate stonework—it was all meant to impress, to remind those entering of their place. It had a beauty that was cold, almost unwelcoming.  

Catherine fussed with Elena’s uniform, ensuring everything was in place, while Elena’s gaze wandered over the students streaming past, her soon-to-be peers. 

Suddenly, the murmur of the crowd shifted, and all eyes turned toward a motorized carriage pulling up. 

“It’s the Duke’s carriage,” someone whispered. 

Catherine froze. Her heart clenched. Does that mean Madeline is here? 

She watched, her breath caught in her throat, as the door opened. A young man stepped out, tall and refined—Sebastian, followed by an elegantly dressed woman. 

Catherine’s heart skipped. Madeline. 

“Sebastian?” Elena’s quiet voice pulled Catherine from her thoughts. 

Catherine turned, her brow furrowed. “Do you know him, Elena?” 

Elena hesitated. “Not really. He’s been to the bookstore... so I’ve met him.” 

A wave of dread washed over Catherine. She gripped Elena’s arm, her voice dropping into a serious tone. “Elena, listen to me. I ask one thing of you—avoid him. Avoid him and his family. The duchess... her family... they’re not to be tangled with.” 

The sight of Madeline triggered an involuntary memory— a beautiful afternoon, Madeline's mocking smile as Catherine's parents asked for forgiveness on behalf of their daughter. A lie, something she hadn't done and her parents paying the price.  Catherine's heart pounded, her hand trembling as she clenched her daughter's arm. No. Not again. Never again. 

“I won’t,” Elena promised, though a seed of doubt sprouted in her mind. She hated the idea of being restricted, especially when she barely understood why. But seeing the fear in her mother’s eyes silenced any argument. 

Tomas nodded toward Elena. “I’ll be here to pick you up at the end of the day.” 

“I’ll get going now,” Elena said, embracing her mother once more. But even as she smiled, her thoughts lingered on Sebastian and her mother’s unusual warning. 

Catherine watched as Elena disappeared into the academy’s main building, her heart heavy with unease. She turned to return to the carriage, but her eyes darted back toward Madeline, who was now speaking with Sebastian. Catherine’s pulse quickened. It had been years, but the tension of their past was still fresh in her mind. She had hoped to avoid this confrontation, but it seemed inevitable now. 

From across the courtyard, Madeline’s sharp gaze flickered. Her skill at observing her surroundings had not dulled over the years. Even from a distance, she recognized the silhouette, the unmistakable black hair. Catherine Sinclair. 

Madeline’s heart quickened, though her exterior remained calm, poised as ever. She turned her attention back to her duties, escorting Sebastian into the academy. But in the depths of her mind, she knew—Catherine was back in the capital. And with her, the buried past was stirring once again.