The snow had stopped falling by dusk, but frost clung to the windowpanes like silver lace.
As the Blackwood carriage rolled to a stop outside Castle Merrow, Lila drew in a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. The sheer size of the estate loomed before her, columns of white stone flanked by sweeping staircases, statues of winged lions guarding the arched entrance. Even the icicles looked like they'd been sculpted intentionally.
"Cold feet?" Adrian asked beside her.
His voice was soft, almost teasing, but Lila could hear the undercurrent of calculation. He had been watching the guests filter in through the grand doors, nobles wrapped in opulence, servants trailing behind with furs and silk-covered shoes. Every step they took was measured, strategic.
Lila adjusted the silver circlet on her head. "I've had colder. Figuratively speaking."
Adrian gave a rare smile. "Good. You'll need that fire."
The door opened.
Their entrance was timed with precision. The doorman announced them as if their arrival had been scripted into the night's drama.
"His Grace, the Duke of Blackwood. Lady Lila Hart, daughter of the late Marquess of Wrenmere."
The hall fell into a hush.
Not total silence—just enough for Lila to feel every gaze turn toward her. Every breath held in judgment. Or jealousy. Or confusion.
She stepped forward, head high, indigo velvet sweeping across polished floors, and Adrian followed at her side like a shadow carved from nobility. Evelyne was waiting on the top of the grand staircase.
She was all ice and beauty, dressed in a gown of pale blue trimmed with white fur, a glimmering tiara catching the chandelier's firelight. Her expression was perfectly neutral, but her fingers curled slightly at the sight of Adrian's hand on Lila's back.
"Lady Hart," she greeted smoothly. "And Your Grace. What a startling surprise."
"Surely not that startling," Lila said sweetly, inclining her head. "After all, you did extend an invitation."
"To you." Evelyne's smile sharpened. "Not to your shadow."
Adrian's voice was calm. "Then you must understand the importance of keeping shadows close."
Murmurs rippled through the guests below. Evelyne's mask flickered for just a moment but she recovered quickly.
"How charming," she said. "Do enjoy yourselves. I'm certain you'll find tonight's festivities... enlightening."
The ballroom was a palace of glass and frost. Chandeliers shaped like upside-down stars hung from the vaulted ceiling, casting prismatic light over polished marble floors. Icicles dangled from the rafters like daggers. The walls were lined with masks, not for anonymity but ceremony, every guest was expected to don one, symbolizing that truth was secondary to performance.
Lila selected one shaped like a silver hawk. Adrian chose a black wolf.
"How poetic," she murmured.
He fastened the strap behind her head with unexpected gentleness. "The hawk sees everything."
"And the wolf?"
"Knows where to bite."
She rolled her eyes but couldn't help the smile that tugged at her lips. The games began quickly.
Lady Evelyne moved through the crowd like a conductor, directing conversations, inciting curiosity with every glance toward Lila and Adrian. Nobles who hadn't spoken to the Hart family in years suddenly drifted close, offering flattery disguised as civility.
"Oh, Lady Lila, I hardly recognized you."
"A most unexpected alliance, the two of you."
"Is it true you're restoring the Hart estate? Such ambition!"
"I do hope you'll be careful who you trust. Influence can be dangerous."
Lila met each smile with one of her own, tempered with cool detachment. Adrian, for his part, said little. But his silence was calculated when he did speak, it cut through conversations like a blade.
"I do hope you're enjoying the festivities," one baron purred, clearly angling to gossip. "Lady Evelyne's events are always... revealing."
"Indeed," Adrian said without inflection. "Revealing which faces are still masks."
The baron paled.
Later in the evening, Lila found herself alone on the balcony, the cold air biting at her cheeks. She needed the silence.
The opulence had been suffocating, the false compliments cloying. But most of all, it was Evelyne's gaze that unsettled her—a constant pressure, like a thread being wound tighter with every passing minute.
"She's plotting something," Lila whispered to herself.
"Yes," came a voice from behind her.
She didn't startle. Adrian stepped onto the balcony, his presence like gravity.
"She didn't expect you to hold your own," he said. "She expected you to flinch."
Lila stared out over the snow-covered gardens. "I've done enough of that in my life."
They stood in silence for a moment.
"She's baiting me," Lila said. "Trying to draw me into a misstep."
Adrian nodded. "She's also afraid."
That surprised her.
"Afraid of me?"
"She saw the girl you were," he replied. "She doesn't know the woman you've become."
Lila turned to him. "Why did you really come with me tonight?"
There it was—the question that had lingered between them since the carriage ride.
Adrian looked at her, the wolf mask now hanging from his hand. His eyes were distant, thoughtful.
"Because you were walking into a den of wolves," he said quietly. "And I've spent enough time among them to know how they devour. I couldn't let them tear you apart before you realized you have fangs."
Lila's throat tightened.
"And what happens when I do use them?"
Adrian's mouth curved into something like a smirk. "Then they'll realize too late that you were never prey."
Inside, the next part of Evelyne's plan unfolded.
A sudden toast. A servant spilling wine on Lila's gown—accident or sabotage? A noblewoman approaching with a mocking smile and a question far too personal about Lila's mother's death.
The crowd watched. Waited. And then Lila stepped back. Calm, composed.
"Your dress is stunning," she told the woman, brushing away the wine with a silvery laugh. "A shame it's been out of fashion since last spring."
Gasps rippled. The woman blinked, reddened, and retreated. Adrian handed Lila a fresh napkin. "You enjoyed that."
"Immensely."
"Good."
Because the night was only just beginning. And so was the war.