The night had passed in a heavy, suffocating silence, lingering in the rooms and hallways of their home like a presence. Catherine had tried her best to comfort Elena, her soft voice a balm against the weight of the rumors. 

Yet despite her mother’s efforts, Elena could see in Catherine’s eyes a worry that ran deeper than any words she’d shared. Both of them lay awake, separate but united by an unspoken tension, wondering how things would unfold now. 

The next day, the academy halls were no kinder. Curious glances flitted her way like darting shadows, and hushed whispers seemed to echo around every corner. By now, it seemed everyone knew her name.  

Elena resisted the urge to shrink under their stares. They made her feel like a specimen, exposed beneath the scrutiny of noble eyes, which hovered somewhere between contempt and intrigue. 

“So uncomfortable,” she murmured, clenching her fists as she continued down the long corridor toward her classroom, lifting her head high in defiance. Yesterday’s shock had left her hollow, and though she’d found release in tears, Catherine’s reassurances had given her enough strength to hold herself together today. 

“Elena!” a voice called from behind. 

She turned to see Lorianne and Lucas, their faces filled with concern, a stark contrast to the cold, watchful gazes of her other classmates. She managed a small smile, feeling a brief flicker of warmth cut through the day’s gloom. 

With her friends beside her, she felt steadier. Yet, as they walked, she couldn’t help but notice how those who’d once greeted her now turned away or pretended not to see her. In a single day, rumors had changed everything, casting her into a light she hadn’t asked for.  

She was witnessing firsthand what her mother had warned her about—the shifting loyalty of the nobles, who could just as easily whisper against you as they could smile in your face. 

“Are you two heading to the dining hall?” Elena asked as they strolled together, hoping to maintain a thread of normalcy. 

Lorianne slipped her arm through Elena’s, her gesture gentle but protective, as though shielding her from the silent onslaught of the stares around them. “Yes, we are. Do you want to join us?” 

Elena shook her head, her gaze drifting toward the floor. “No, I... I think I’d rather read for my creative class. Besides, I’m not really hungry.” 

Lorianne gave her arm a gentle squeeze. “Well, we'll join you after lunch if you’d like the company.” 

Elena smiled, grateful for their kindness. Despite the rumors, at least she didn’t have to navigate the day completely alone. 

They parted ways, and Elena continued down the hall alone, searching for a place where she could read undisturbed, away from the curious eyes that followed her. 

The thought of sitting under the wisteria pergola, as she usually did, was out of the question now with the bite of autumn in the air. But she’d recently heard about a rarely used reading room tucked away on the far side of the library, a place she hoped might offer her the solitude she craved. 

When she finally reached the Reading Hall, Elena opened the door tentatively, greeted by a hush that made her exhale, releasing a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. The room was elegant, with high windows casting a soft, filtered light onto the plush armchairs and polished wood tables that were scattered in small clusters. 

Though spacious and grand, the room had an intimacy to it, forming semi-private nooks where students could read undisturbed. The rich decor and tranquil atmosphere made it feel like the exact space she had been hoping to find. 

Elena settled into a nook in the middle of the empty room and opened her book, feeling a sense of solace in the quiet. Soon enough, she was absorbed in the story. 

The slow creak of the door broke the silence, drawing her gaze toward the entrance. She looked up just as the door closed softly behind the newcomer, who moved with careful steps, as if wary of disturbing the silence. 

“Oh, I didn’t think anyone would be in here.” Norman said as he approached her with a warm smile. “It seems you’ve found another one of my favorite spots, Lady Elena.” 

“It appears I have,” she replied politely, though with a hint of guardedness. 

Norman hesitated, then his smile softened. “Are you alright? Word has it you’ve become rather… popular lately,” he said with a hint of sympathy. 

“That was definitely not my intention,” she replied with an awkward smile. “As you can see, I’ve retreated to avoid the attention.” 

Norman’s smile broadened, understanding evident in his eyes. “In that case, I look forward to seeing more of you,” he said before retreating to a corner at the far end of the room. 

Once again, the room settled into quiet, broken only by the occasional turning of pages. Elena tried to immerse herself in her book, yet her thoughts drifted to Norman’s presence, his concern touching her more than she wanted to admit. 

He must have gone to Sebastian’s birthday, Elena’s mind wandered, remembering that Norman had ranked first among the second-year students. She recalled their conversations about literature under the wisteria pergola earlier in the term — a different time, when her life had felt less complicated.   

After a while, Norman rose to leave. As he passed her, he quietly placed a candied treat on the table beside her before exiting the room. With his departure the Reading Hall returned to its stillness, leaving Elena alone once again. 

Glancing at her pocket watch, it was later than Elena expected. She gathered her things, sparing another look at the candy with a mixture of surprise and amusement. Norman’s gesture was kind, a small reminder that, amid the judgment and whispers, there were still those who treated her with warmth. 

She slipped the candy into her bag, let out a quiet sigh, and steeled herself to face the hallways once more. The reading room had been a refuge, but she knew she couldn’t hide forever. Though she hesitated, she decided to head to the dining hall, where she knew Lucas and Lorianne would be.  

With her head held high, she walked out, ready for whatever awaited her. 

Meanwhile, Sebastian sat in his usual spot in the dining hall, surrounded by the familiar faces of his friends. Their conversation about winter plans provided a welcome distraction from the recent rumors circulating about "the Duchess and Elena Sinclair’s mother." 

Across the room, he noticed Norman entering. Sebastian recalled their introduction at the banquet but still couldn’t place where he recognized him from. Amid the dining hall’s muffled chatter, Sebastian’s gaze lingered on Norman as he tried to recall the forgotten memory. 

It was only when Norman’s expression softened and a noticeable smile appeared that Sebastian traced his line of sight—and found Elena, who had just walked into the dining hall. To his surprise she acknowledged Norman with a soft smile and slight bow before she headed toward a table of other first-year students. 

In an instant, the scene fell into place. He remembered glimpsing Norman and Elena under the wisteria pergola in the academy gardens. Their conversation had looked easy, comfortable in a way that Sebastian hadn’t felt around Elena since he’d learned of their mothers’ history. 

Jealousy stirred in him, prickling at the edges of his thoughts. What was their relationship? Why was he looking at her that way? That simple exchange seemed oddly intimate, as if there were some shared understanding between them. Questions crowded Sebastian’s mind, fully disengaging him from the conversation at his table. 

“Sebastian, are you listening?” Victor’s voice jarred him back to reality, but the questions lingered, his thoughts tied to the faint, confusing jealousy now simmering in his chest. 

Hearing his name snapped him back to the present, away from the tangled thoughts of Elena and Norman’s connection. The air around him felt charged, as if every whisper and laughter echoed his inner turmoil. 

“That’s her, isn’t it?” Victor’s voice cut through the haze, and Sebastian instinctively turned his gaze in the direction Victor was nodding. 

“Elena Sinclair,” Victor added, a hint of curiosity lacing his tone. 

“Why does it matter?” Sebastian responded, feigning indifference. His remark left Victor slightly embarrassed as the group shifted back to their original conversation topic. 

The evening wore on, but he found himself ensnared in a web of jealousy and curiosity, the tension in his chest tightening with each moment. The realization that he couldn't ignore her presence, nor the emotions she stirred within him, left an indelible mark he could no longer dismiss. 

The table welcomed Elena as she sat down, some with curious eyes, others with pity. She joined the conversation, hoping to restore a sense of normalcy to her routine. 

Suddenly, Gretchen, seated beside her, leaned over, her voice a conspiratorial whisper. “Don’t look now, but Rebecca von Barth is giving you a death stare.” 

“Who’s that?” Elena asked, instinctively glancing over Gretchen’s shoulder. 

“Don’t look!” Gretchen’s startled response made Elena quickly straighten up. “She’s the daughter of Marquis von Barth, and everyone knows she’s set on becoming the next duchess. You should be careful of her,” 

It was the first time Elena had heard of Rebecca. She’d always skirted the edges of the academy’s inner gossip, focusing instead on excelling to make her family proud. 

But now, as the subject of hushed whispers, she realized just how little she knew about the social hierarchy that thrived at Ashwood Academy. A pang of discomfort settled in as she became aware of the countless, invisible lines drawn around her. 

She knew Sebastian was the object of admiration for many girls in the capital, his effortless charm and striking looks rendering him an enigma she couldn’t resist. Even before discovering he was the duke’s son, an unexpected pull had drawn her toward him, a gravitational force that left her feeling both exhilarated and anxious. 

But it was more than mere attraction. Behind Sebastian’s composed, refined exterior, she sensed something deeper, something hidden beneath the weight of his obligations. Even though they’d only shared glances and a few words, the rumors seemed to bind her fate to his. 

Despite everything happening around her, she was frustrated by the feelings she still carried for him. She hated that they hadn’t faded—if anything, the turmoil had only made them more confusing. 

“Elena, you alright?” Gretchen’s voice broke through her thoughts, and she managed a small, reassuring smile. 

“I’m fine. Just... getting used to the attention, I guess,” Elena replied quietly, masking her unease as best she could. 

By the time Elena arrived at Frowde’s Fine Books, she felt the day had already drained most of her energy. She had stopped by briefly the day before to let Professor Frowde know she’d have to go straight home. 

Her unusual request and dejected expression had signaled that something serious had come up. Though he’d reassured her that she could take as much time as she needed, Elena felt that one day away had been enough.  

After her talk with her mother, she was determined not to dwell on when things might blow over. The bookstore had always been a welcome distraction, but now it felt like an essential part of her routine. 

“I wasn’t expecting you today, Elena,” Professor Frowde remarked as she entered, his voice warm yet filled with concern. She greeted him with her usual smile, though it felt strained. 

“I just needed the one day—today’s fine,” she reassured him. 

“Are you sure everything is alright?” he asked, his expression filled with concern. 

Well…” Elena hesitated. She wanted to confide in Professor Frowde as he had always been a reliable source of guidance since she began working at the bookstore. However, she was all too aware of his close connections to the duke’s family. 

"Remember I mentioned that my mother had a complicated past with the duchess? Well, since Sebastian’s birthday banquet, rumors have started spreading about it," Elena said quietly, her gaze fixed somewhere distant. 

Professor Frowde listened with patience, offering comforting words as she finished. He tried to understand her dilemma, but before they could talk further, the bookstore bell chimed as customers entered, cutting their conversation short. 

Elena retreated to the second floor, sorting through stacks of books, hoping the simple task would ease her thoughts. Her gaze drifted to Sebastian’s usual table, and she felt a pang at how long it had been since she’d seen him there.  

When she’d first started working, she’d looked forward to their encounters, even though his manner was distant. On an impulse, she sank into his usual chair, letting her eyes wander to the familiar view of the street below. A glint of sunlight caught her attention—and her heart skipped. A carriage had stopped outside, one she recognized all too well. 

It couldn’t be, could it? Sebastian wouldn’t come here—not after everything that had happened. Surely, he’d be as eager to avoid her as she was him. 

But then, as if summoned by her thoughts, he stepped out of the carriage and walked through the door, his presence unmistakable. Elena froze, her heart thundering in her chest. 

“Sebastian!” Professor Frowde greeted, surprise evident in his voice. 

Sebastian returned the greeting, his eyes drifting up to meet Elena’s as she rose quickly from his usual seat and retreated behind the nearest shelf, pretending to organize books, her heart racing as a tumult of emotions coursed through her. 

After a moment, Sebastian made his way up to the second floor, taking his usual spot as though nothing had changed. Downstairs, Professor Frowde was busy preparing tea for him when Elena approached. 

“I’ll bring this up to Sebastian,” she offered, taking the tea tray. 

As she set the tray down at the table, Sebastian’s voice broke the silence. “I liked the melody.” 

Elena froze. “What melody?” she asked, feeling a rush of alarm. He couldn’t know about that. I never gave it to him... 

Sebastian only smiled, a mysterious glint in his eye, and returned his attention to his book without further explanation. 

Back downstairs, Elena clutched the tea tray, her thoughts racing. She fumbled through her bag, anxiously checking each book for the loose sheet of notes she’d written on. 

When did I lose it?