26. Claire #2
I sniffled, wiping at a fresh wave of tears as the bitter truth finally broke through my anger. The real reason I had screamed at her, the reason I was crying like a child right now, was because a terrifying part of me knew Ash was absolutely right.
This was foolish.
It was crazy.
My gaze drifted toward the front of the carriage, where Ash rode ahead, her silhouette outlined faintly in the fading light.
But no matter how much I tried to shape it into making sense, her life didn’t fit mine. There was no stability in her line of work—just movement, danger, and uncertainty.
And as much as I felt drawn to her, as much as I wanted her—I couldn’t ignore the truth.
Love alone wasn’t enough in a world like this.
I had seen what poverty did and what it took from families.
It wore them down, broke them apart, turned affection into stress that became resentment. I couldn’t choose that. I wouldn’t.
Even if it meant losing her.
The thought sat heavy in my chest as the road shifted beneath us, the air growing warmer still as we approached Norwich.
And then, Norwich appeared.
Even in the dark, it was breathtaking. Lights flickered to life along the streets, casting a golden glow over sculpted stone and carefully tended greenery. Statues peered at every turn, and pathways were lined with trimmed hedges and gardens shaped with deliberate care.
My breath caught as I leaned toward the window, trying to take it all in. This was the life I had imagined. It was real—right in front of me. And yet, that same uneasy feeling twisted low in my stomach.
And I couldn’t quite tell if it was anticipation, or something else entirely.
The carriage came to a stop.
I leaned toward the window, parting the curtain just enough to peer outside.
The mansion rose before me like a scene out of a dream.
Tall and sprawling, its structure stretched wide beneath the night sky, its many windows glowing with candlelight from within.
Shutters framed each one, and even in the darkness I could make out the careful arrangement of flower beds beneath them, hinting at colors I could only imagine.
The front grounds were immaculate. Trimmed hedges lined the path in elegant shapes. The gravel drive curved toward the entrance, leading the eye to the grand double doors at the front.
It was beautiful and everything I had ever imagined. My future home. The thought sent a strange, fluttering sensation through my chest, a feeling between awe and disbelief.
The doors slid open. Stepping out into the dark was a tall, lanky figure who held a lantern high as he approached. As the warm glow illuminated his features, a face came into focus: an older man, complete with round spectacles perched on his nose and a mustache curled neatly at the ends.
“Late-night visitors?” he called, squinting into the dark.
Before I could respond, Ash had already swung down from her horse. “We’ve arrived with Claire Briarwood.”
“Claire?” the man repeated.
My heart began to beat faster as I pushed the carriage door open and stepped down, my boots touching the gravel with a soft crunch. Suddenly, I felt small. My hands fidgeted together as I approached, my confidence wavering beneath the weight of his attention. He looked at me, and his eyes widened.
“Duke Halloway’s betrothed? My, you must have quite the courage, traveling through the Wilds and arriving at this hour!”
“We expedited the journey,” Ash muttered from behind me.
I glared briefly in her direction. She stood there as she always did—steady, composed, untouched, while I felt unsteady and frayed at the edges. The argument between us still lingered.
No one had won.
And yet, it felt like I had lost something.
I forced a small smile, turning back to the man.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” I reached into my bag and retrieved the most important item I carried—the wax-sealed document bearing my mother’s debt. I held it out carefully. He accepted it with equal care, examining the seal before his expression softened into kindness.
“It is a pleasure to meet you as well. Please, come inside. You must be exhausted from your journey.”
Relief fluttered through me, faint but welcome, as I stepped forward to follow him. But then I noticed Ash and Caspian hadn’t moved.
The man paused as he glanced back. “Would you care to join us? I can prepare food, or a room for the night.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Ash said, her voice flat. “We’ll meet with the duke in the morning.”
“Are you certain?”
Ash turned, gripping the reins as she pulled herself back onto her horse in one smooth motion.
The man gave a small nod. “Very well. We shall see you in the morning, then when the sir is awake.”
He continued toward the doors, and I followed. But something pulled at me. I couldn’t help glancing back over my shoulder. Caspian had already turned his horse, his figure shifting into shadow as he moved away.
But Ash hadn’t. She was still there.
Watching me.
Her knuckles were tight around the reins, her posture rigid, her expression unreadable in the dim light, but her eyes locked onto mine. For a moment, neither of us moved.
Then her gaze shifted, and she turned away.
I faced forward again, my chest tightening as I stepped toward the open doors.