A lady of Resilience

Chapter 25: The Rising Tide

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The streets of London loomed dark and threatening as Seraphina and Ashford rode into the city, slipping back into the underbelly where danger lurked at every corner. The city, normally teeming with life, now seemed to bristle with a kind of malevolent energy, as if it too was aware of the storm brewing just beneath the surface. The ride had been quiet, both of them too lost in their own thoughts to fill the air with idle conversation. Seraphina's mind was on her mother, now safe with Lord Pembroke, and on the plan that would determine whether they succeeded in toppling Montrose or were swept away by his power.

As they approached the meeting point—a dilapidated tavern near the riverfront—Seraphina's pulse quickened. This was where the resistance had gathered in secret for months, but today, it was more than just a routine meeting. Today, they would decide on the next course of action, one that could either break Montrose's stranglehold or plunge them all into ruin.

The tavern was unassuming from the outside, its sign faded and the windows dirtied with soot from the nearby factories. Ashford dismounted and led the horses to a nearby alley, out of sight, while Seraphina kept watch. Her eyes scanned the streets, looking for any sign of Montrose's men. It felt too quiet, and she didn't trust the silence.

"Let's get inside," Ashford said, his voice low as he returned to her side. He had the same wary look in his eyes that Seraphina had felt creeping up her spine since they'd entered the city. They were walking a tightrope now, and any wrong move could send them plunging to their deaths.

Seraphina followed him inside, pulling her hood lower to obscure her face. The tavern was dimly lit, the smell of stale ale and damp wood permeating the air. At first glance, it seemed like any other shabby drinking hole, with a few rough-looking patrons nursing their cups in silence. But Seraphina knew better. These were no ordinary patrons.

At the far end of the room, a door led to the back, where the real meeting would take place. Ashford moved ahead of her, giving a brief nod to the barman, who barely glanced their way before stepping aside to let them through.

They entered a small, windowless room where a group of people were already gathered around a table. Seraphina recognized some of the faces immediately: John, a burly dockworker with a heart of gold and a fierce loyalty to the cause; Eleanor, a sharp-eyed woman with a knack for gathering information from every corner of the city; and Thom, the young messenger who had risked his life more than once to get word of Montrose's plans to the resistance.

But there were new faces too, and that worried her. The resistance had always been careful about who they let in, and new faces meant new risks.

"Seraphina, Ashford," John greeted them with a nod as they entered. His thick arms were crossed over his chest, and his face was grim. "Glad to see you made it."

"We came as soon as we could," Ashford said, taking a seat at the table. Seraphina followed suit, her eyes scanning the room as she sat down. "What's the situation?"

Eleanor leaned forward, her face tense. "It's worse than we thought. Montrose isn't just consolidating power with his allies—he's planning something much bigger. We've heard whispers that he's going to make his move on Parliament within the week."

Seraphina's heart skipped a beat. "What do you mean? How is he planning to take Parliament?"

"He's bought enough votes," Thom interjected, his voice steady but edged with fear. "Montrose has been using his wealth and influence to line the pockets of key members. By the end of the week, he'll have enough support to pass a set of laws that will give him near-unchecked power. He'll control trade, the military, and the courts. Once that happens, there'll be no stopping him."