Chapter 89 Forbidden Encounter
Julian was done waiting. The silence was deafening. Almost a week of radio silence from Ilse, no letter, no messenger, no sign of life.
He didn't care about propriety. He didn't care about the risk. He needed answers.
He rode hard, his horse tearing up the road to the Mercer estate. The manor loomed ahead, cold, grand, and entirely hostile. He dismounted, his heart thudding against his ribs like a thief caught in the act. He was a Viscount, but right now, he felt like nothing more than an intruder.
The butler at the door blanched, stunned to see a Vance on his doorstep. He started to stammer, probably preparing to kick him out, but Julian cut him off with a look that dared him to refuse.
"I'm here to see the young lady. Move."
The butler relented, he didn't dare refuse a Viscount. He then went to summon Lady Gisella to her room.
Gisella appeared in the parlor as soon as hear that Julian had come. Her face went slack, then flooded with color. She looked messy, frazzled, frantic, and entirely too beautiful. For a beat, they just stared at each other. No words. Just the heavy, electric air between them.
"Julian? What are you doing here?" Her voice was a bare whisper.
He closed the distance. "No letter. No word. I thought... I thought Ilse was caught."
Gisella shook her head, her fingers shredding the silk of her dress. "I was waiting for you! I thought you had stopped writing. I've been terrified, Julian."
They stood there, trapped in their own panic. But beneath the fear, there was a pull, a gravity that made Julian's heart hammer. Gisella offered a fragile smile, the kind that made his chest ache.
"You're insane, coming here," she breathed.
Julian reached out, his hand trembling as he brushed a stray lock from her cheek. He was about to speak, but.....
BAM.
The parlor door flew open, vibrating on its hinges.
The patriarch of the Mercer house stood there. He wasn't looking at a guest; he was looking at a stain. His eyes were cold, predatory, filled with the bottomless spite of a man who saw a Viscount as nothing more than a glitch in his master plan.
"Viscount Vance," the old man spat. The name dripped with mockery. "It's pathetic. A nobleman, sneaking in here like a common servant. Do you have no pride?"
Julian stiffened. He faced the man, jaw set. "I came to ensure Lady Gisella's safety. I am here to discuss a future with her, Lord Mercer."
The father laughed, a dry, rattling sound. He stalked forward, closing the distance. "A future? You think your title gives you the right to touch my daughter? You're a parasite. My daughter is betrothed to the Prince. Get out. Before I throw you out."
"Father, no!" Gisella lunged, stepping between them like a shield. "Don't you dare!"
"Silence!"
The old man didn't blink. He gestured to the guards behind him. "Take her. Lock her in her room. And don't let her out until she remembers her place."
"No! Julian!" Gisella screamed, her voice tearing at his gut as the guards hauled her away.
Julian's hand flew to his sword hilt. He wanted to kill the man. He wanted to burn the house down. But he couldn't. This was Mercer soil. If he drew his steel, it meant war. And Gisella would be the first casualty.
Her cries faded, swallowed by the upper floors of the manor.
Julian stood alone, surrounded by servants with eyes like ice. The old man stepped into his space, grinning.
"Leave, Viscount. Before I report you to the Crown for trespassing."
Julian's knuckles went white. He turned, the taste of bile in his throat. He had no letter. No answers. And now? Now, Gisella was locked away because of him. The situation hadn't just fallen apart, it had imploded.