The Duke's Reluctant Bride

Chapter 33: The Bell That Shouldn't Ring

The manor slept beneath a hush of night. Darkness pooled in the corners of its ancient halls, and the only sound was the slow, deliberate ticking of the longcase clock in the foyer

Adeline slipped past the east corridor, careful not to let the hem of her blue cloak whisper too loudly against the wind a she move. The servants' quarters were dark, their doors sealed tight. Fortunately, no one seemed to have noticed her departure. 

Or so she believed.

As she made it outside, the cold wind brushed her cheeks. She pulled her hood lower over her head and kept running, her steps quiet against the stone path.

Just a friend from the past, she reminded herself.

Nothing to worry about. No ambush. No trap.

And even if it were... she knew what she was capable of. She wasn't some helpless girl in a story—if it came down to it, she'd find her own way out—or take them down herself.

Though part of her doubted it, since the letter she had received—and the handwriting—seemed truly handwritten by her.

As she neared the outer wall, her limbs strengthened. With practiced ease, she climbed up like an assassin, swift and silent. In one fluid motion, she pulled herself over and dropped to the other side, her silhouette vanishing into the darkness among the trees.

It seemed no one had noticed.

But from the second floor of the manor, a pair of sapphire eyes followed her figure through the window. As the moonlight slipped free from a drifting cloud, it caught on Lucien's black hair, brushing it with silver. He didn't move—just watched, his expression calm, focused, a hint of concern flickering behind his steady gaze.

There was no judgment in his eyes.

Only a quiet, thoughtful calm.

He stayed by the window long after she had vanished into the woods, not out of suspicion—but something closer to instinct. The silence of the manor wrapped around him, soft and heavy, broken only by the patient ticking of the longcase clock below.

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Finally reaching her destination, Adeline stood before the ruins as moonlight filtered through the thinning trees, casting long, silvery shadows over broken stone arches and crumbling statues wrapped in ivy. The wind whispered through the leaves, and the forest rustled gently around her. The ground beneath her boots was uneven, half-swallowed by moss and time.

She waited.

At first, nothing happened. The moon slipped behind a cloud. Her eyes scanned the surroundings—watchful, but calm. Everything looked ordinary. No rustling beyond the usual breeze, no gleam of hidden eyes. The forest breathed quietly around her—wild, but not unkind.

After twenty minutes, doubt began to creep in. She wondered if this had been a mistake.

Then, just as she turned to leave—

A soft crunch of footsteps echoed behind her.

"Adeline," a voice called from beyond a broken pillar—quiet, almost breathless.

Her instincts kicked in. Light magic swirled to her fingertips as she turned, prepared for anything.

"Show yourself," she said firmly.

A silhouette emerged from the shadows.

And then—there she was.

Melissa stepped out, cloaked in black, her hair tousled by the wind. Time had touched her face, but her eyes were the same—sharp, alert, fierce.