The day before the ball, Damian's private study was filled with tension. Evelina, Damian, and Jasper gathered around a big table covered with maps, council records, and old letters.
One could smell the frustration in the air as they realised that their efforts to find proof against Luther had failed.
"This is useless," Evelina muttered, slamming a parchment down. Her fingers curled into fists, and she leaned back in her chair, exhaling sharply. "We're running out of time."
Damian's jaw tightened as he stood behind her, his hand resting on the back of her chair. "We're not giving up," he said firmly. "There's something we're missing—there has to be."
Jasper crossed his arms, leaning against the edge of the table. "Even if there's something to find, it's not like Lord Luther's leaving clues lying around. He's too careful."
Damian's silver eyes darkened. "Careful or not, no one is perfect. There's a chance he's hiding something in his chambers."
