Lazarus held my loyalty in his grasp, and through that bond, the fates of many teetered on a knife’s edge.
Elizabeth deserved more than a man whose hands were stained with the ghosts of his past.More than a creature chased by shadows, relentless pursuits, and whispered betrayals.
And so, I remained silent.
A guardian was unseen.A specter who could only exist in the hush of falling rain and the watchful gaze that never left her.
She lingered a moment longer, head bowed, fingers tracing the cold edges of the stone before she turned.
Her silhouette receded, fading into the cemetery’s somber embrace, growing smaller as she neared the looming facade of the Alexander estate.
I lingered.
Hidden in the darkness, unseen—until?—
A voice shattered the night.
It was harsh and reprimanding, each word laced with judgment, thick with disappointment.
“How dare you abandon the hallowed halls of Lord Winston’s estate without a proper goodbye?”
The venom in his tone cut through the rain, his voice a force of pure indignation.
“You’ve disgraced our lineage with your betrayal.And look at yourself!Cloaked in grime and neglect—standing before me like some wayward beggar.”
Lord Alexander was rigid, his fury lashing out like a whip meant to break or humiliate.
Elizabeth halted.
Her back to me, her shoulders tightening as though bracing for a blow that had not yet come.
Something inside me snapped.
Before I could stop myself and consider the wisdom of my next action, I stepped forth from my concealment, boots striking the cobblestones with purpose.
“Lord Alexander.”
My voice cut through the space between us, carrying across the courtyard with clear intent.
Elizabeth whirled around.
Her eyes—wide, startled—locked onto mine, an unspoken question flickering in their depths.
I held her gaze for half a second before focusing on her father.
“Forgive my unannounced arrival at your home,” I continued smoothly, my voice unwavering.
A calculated pause.
“Her carriage broke down, and then the rain started,” I said, the words falling effortlessly, a half-truth meant to shield her.“I happened to be running errands nearby.I had her and her maid stay at my estate until the weather cleared.Elizabeth informed me that Lord Winston had other matters to attend to, so I offered my home as shelter.”
Lord Alexander’s posture shifted—rigid, unreadable.
Surprise flickered across his face for a moment before cooling into something far more dangerous—reluctant gratitude shadowed by distrust.
“Lord Hassan.”
The formality in his tone was clipped and assessing.
