Chapter 2

Rain fell endlessly in Southiks.

I leaned against the railing on the second floor of a pleasure boat and watched the drops disappear into the river below.

Three months. Three months since I'd left Captre, and I finally understood what freedom tasted like.

"Drinking alone is such a waste, don't you think?" A voice came from behind me.

I turned around and saw a scholar dressed in pale robes standing a few feet away. He held a folding fan in one hand and wore an easy smile that reached his eyes.

He was annoyingly handsome.

"And what would you suggest instead?" I swirled my empty cup and let my sleeve slide down, deliberately exposing my wrist.

His eyes brightened. Without waiting for an invitation, he sat down across from me. "I'm Charles Sterling. And you are?"

"Lily White."

"Lily." He said my name slowly, like he was tasting it. He smiled faintly. "It reminds me of Evelyn—an old name writers used for women who carried quiet strength. Pure, but not fragile."

The compliment hit too close to home.

My real name—Evelyn—meant exactly that. And he'd just pulled it out of thin air with some poetic line.

I studied him more carefully. This Charles looked entirely at ease, like he'd simply been making casual conversation and hadn't just named me without knowing it.

"Mr. Sterling is quite the scholar." I refilled his cup and slid it across the table. "How about a drink with me?"

Charles picked up the cup. "Where are you from, Ms. White? Your accent doesn't sound like you're from Southiks."

"I'm from up north. My family was forcing me into a marriage, so I ran away."

That wasn't exactly a lie.

Edward's father had forced him to marry me, and I did run away. The method was unconventional.

Something flickered in Charles' eyes. "Forced into marriage? The man must be a complete fool to let someone like you slip away."

I nearly choked on my wine.

Edward really was clueless when it came to romance. Three years of marriage, and he'd barely touched my hand.

"You're absolutely right, Mr. Sterling." I leaned forward and dropped my voice. "My fiancé walks around with this permanent scowl on his face, like the whole world owes him money."

I mimicked Edward's icy expression. "It drove me crazy."

Charles laughed and reached out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear. "So what kind of man do you prefer, Ms. White?"

The words caught in my throat. I didn't expect a scholar to be this bold. Back at the Jefferson Manor, no one would have dared.

I was still trying to figure out how to respond when shouting erupted outside the boat.

I turned toward the window and saw a squad of guards checking people at the dock. They were holding up a portrait and comparing it to each person who passed by.

"They've been cracking down lately." Charles followed my gaze, but his tone stayed casual. "Apparently someone important escaped from the Captre."

"Is that so?" I kept my voice steady.

Charles stood up. "Let me go see what's happening. Wait here, Ms. White."

Before I could stop him, he was already heading down the stairs.

I watched the dock carefully.

Charles spoke with the lead officer for a moment, and the man bowed respectfully before handing over a portrait he was carrying.

Charles glanced at it, then suddenly looked up and stared straight in my direction.

Did he see me? Did he recognize me? Was he looking for me?

I forced myself to stay calm.

I had already completely changed my appearance. My face now only resembled my original one by maybe thirty percent. Besides, everyone believed Evelyn was dead.

Edward wouldn't openly search for a dead woman.

Unless he'd discovered the straw in the coffin.

I bit my lip. I had to leave immediately.

While Charles was still at the dock, I quickly grabbed my bag and prepared to jump into the water.

"Where are you going, Ms. White?" Charles' voice came from behind me.

"I just remembered something urgent." I stepped back.

Charles moved closer with an unreadable smile. "Strange. The woman in this portrait looks about seventy percent like you, Ms. White."

"Just a coincidence. There are plenty of people who look alike in this world."

"Even stranger," he continued, closing the distance between us, "this woman is an escaped servant from the Jefferson Manor who stole valuable property. But this sealed letter from the Jefferson himself to the Governor of Southiks says he's looking for a woman who knows the Art of Suspended Breath."

Edward had even discovered the Suspended Breath technique!

Charles had me backed against the window with nowhere to go. He raised his hand, and I thought he was going to grab me, but he just brushed his fingers across my face.

"Nice disguise work, but you can't fake those eyes."

I tightened my grip on the dagger, ready to fight my way out. Charles suddenly stepped back.

"Do you need help?"

I stared at him in shock. "You knew this whole time?"

"From the moment you started playing the clueless blockhead. I've gotta say, the impression was spot-on. I almost thought Edward himself had shown up."

"Who are you?" I asked, my guard up. "And why are you helping me?"

"Charles Sterling. The real deal." He swept into an exaggerated bow. "As for why I'm helping you—I hate Edward. The enemy of my enemy is my friend."

The shouting outside was getting closer.

Charles walked over to the wall and pushed aside a painting. "The boat owner's a friend of mine. There's a secret passage here that leads to the shore. If you trust me, follow me."

Right now, he wasn't my enemy. I nodded and followed him through the hidden door.