Arielle looked through the mirror and absently watched Tanner button his dress shirt. She waited until he strapped the last of his shoes and straightened to full height and smoothed this black hair with his fingers. His brown eyes met hers and he smiled in the same charming way he always did. And as always, she looked away, not too keen on enjoying the gentle look in his eyes. It was his weakness, she thought. He was too soft, too easy to manipulate. One word from her and he would do anything.

"Do you know where she is?" she asked the question that she had tried not to ask. But things had changed. Like leashed hounds who were starting to realize they could bite, the women of Belcourt were becoming a little... uncontrollable.

And that was just one of her concerns. She was yet to know if the Soldiers had taken care of Leila in Herst. She was yet to find out who was behind the articles circulating in Belcourt, poisoning the minds of the ladies. They were yet to capture the owner of the Sutherland Post. They still needed to kill the king.

But before that, before she could do anything, she had to get to Esther. The woman was a threat to her seat and power, to the things she and Albert had planned for the future of Sutherland and Belcourt. Leila would be easy to deal with, but Esther... Esther was a capable woman who managed to manipulate one of Belcourt's Belles. She had her mother's support, and if Arielle could believe Albert, Esther also had the means to manipulate the king and even Emory, the current crown prince.

"Do you mean Esther?" Tanner asked, brow cocked high. "We have just met after a long time, Arielle. I was hoping we would not be discussing business."

"I have priorities," she said, throwing the warm bed a glance and then turning around to face him. "Now that you helped me satisfy one, I also hope that you help me with Esther."

"They took her far," he said, shrugging into his heavy coat. His face looked disappointed, as he always was whenever she talked about Esther or the Circus. He was a needy man, always had been.

"Where?"

"Do I get a prize if I tell you?"

"You can walk out of here alive," she said in jest as she walked over to him and planted her palms flat on his chest. "I need to get to her."

He sighed, looking conflicted. "If I tell you, she will know I betrayed her. Everything I have been doing for you will be over because she will never let me be near her again."

"You need not come to her again," she said, keeping herself in check, hoping he could not read the desperation behind her voice. "You will no longer have to be near her."

He read the meaning behind her words and he shook his head. "Will you be safe?"

She knew he was asking out of concern, but he should know by now that it was unnecessary. It was never a question of how she could keep herself safe, but how she could get what she wanted. She was not reckless. For one, her greatest desire was to kill the king so she could place Napoleon in charge of the kingdom. But for now, that would have to wait. Louis had canceled all of his social functions to keep himself safe and to look for his daughter. And before he reached Esther, Arielle had to be there first.

"Of course," she said.

He nodded warily. "She is in Calbridge," he said.

"Where in Calbridge?"

"Stapleton."

"It belongs to the Duke of Calbridge."

"Yes," he affirmed. "I'm uncertain what she plans to do with the Circus, love. This could be a trap," he added.

"To catch me?"

He shrugged. "She is very much aware that you want to get to her. She could be luring you into a trap."

Arielle nodded, appearing thoughtful. "Then I shall heed your advice and stay away."

He looked unconvinced, but it soon disappeared when she planted a kiss on his lips. Later, long after he left the tavern, Arielle walked out wrapped in a black cloak and climbed into a carriage.

The Soldier sitting beside her was silent, waiting for her word.

"Gather as much Soldiers as you can. We are going to Calbridge."

*****

Winfield was eerily quiet when they arrived. Ellise and Dior exchanged a look as they stepped into the hall. There was no cause of alarm—the butler seemed unbothered, and the manor looked like it had not been through a devastation. It could only mean most of the people in the manor were not around.

"Where is everyone?" Ellise asked just as her mother, back erect and face eternally unreadable, emerged from the drawing room.

Natalia St. Vincent stiffly nodded when Dior greeted her good afternoon. Then, looking at her daughter, she said, "Please join us."

They followed the woman and found her father standing by the fire, leaning against the hearth in the same manner he would every time he knew something dramatic was about to happen. But Oliver was not around to offer such entertainment, Ellise thought as her gaze swept around the room. The Duke and Duchess of Calbridge sat together, quite too far from Simon St. Vincent, looking like they were about to go to a funeral.

No one else was around. "Where is everyone else?" Ellise asked.

"They went shopping in town. Caroline and Trent took the children. Oliver and Aliya are with them as well," her mother replied, taking the seat near her husband. When she threw the duchess a look, Ellise knew. And she knew the moment Dior realized the same thing she did because he sighed beside her. She stepped closer to him as her mother opened her mouth to say, "The duchess and I have decided that our families may not be perfect for each other."

Ellise blinked, turned to her father who was biting his lips, who then looked away to stare at one corner of the ceiling after lifting his shoulder in a slight shrug. Veering her gaze to the other side of the room, she found the duke frowning at something on the carpet while his wife maintained her haughty posture, as if to challenge them if they challenged them.

"I did not realize the marriage included everyone else," Dior finally said, breaking the terse silence that followed Natalia's statement.

Ellise looked up at him and their eyes met, followed by a long silent conversation. This was a perfect way out, a voice said inside her head. There were too many consequences in a marriage, but the nuisance they would have to face if they remained just lovers would be just as much.

The corner of his mouth twitched into a small smile while he waited for her silent answer. Would she marry him?

"Likewise," she finally said, tearing her eyes off Dior's satisfied face to look at her mother's gaze. "I have always thought the marriage would be between Robert and I." From the corner of her eye, she saw her father nodding in agreement before he cleared his throat and shifted his weight on one foot.

The duke warily looked at his wife, who was looking at Dior with narrowed eyes.

"The duchess and I do not agree on many things," Natalia said, throwing her friend a look.

"I believe it is I who shall have to agree to a union in front of the bishop on the wedding day," Ellise said.

"If this is about petty things such as the color of her dress or colors of ribbons, I believe I would not care," Dior added. "After all, I am blind to colors."

Harriet Dior's eyes narrowed into slits. "This is not just about those things, Robert."

"Is this about where we shall reside?" Ellise asked.

"We would most definitely not live with any of you, fret not," Robert said before their mothers could object.

Ellise frowned at her father as the man tried to mouth something. After two more tries, he finally managed to deliver the message. "Dowry? Is this about my dowry?"

"Do you not have enough?" Dior asked her.

Ellise said, "Of course, I do," as her father shook his head.

"Then I do not see why there is a problem."

Again, Ellise read her father's lips. "Your mother does not agree that I should have full control of my dowry."

The duchess' face turned scarlet. "That is not what I meant—"

"Of course, that's what you meant. You do not wish my daughter to exercise liberty on her monies."

"I said no such thing, Natalia," Harriet Dior insisted.

"Robert can have my entire dowry after three years," Ellise said.

"Three years?" Natalia St. Vincent asked.

"After she invests it," Dior replied. "I have a few suggestions," he added to Ellise.

"Perfect." She smiled at their baffled parents. "Robert and I shall marry," she proclaimed, arching a brow when her mother opened her mouth to argue. "Everyone is invited, of course, but it would not matter if no one comes." Her gaze flickered to her father who was smiling at her.

"Brandy?" Robert asked.

"Y-Yes," the two older gentlemen immediately said, and soon, the four of them left the drawing room, leaving the two older women alone.

Ellise joined the gentlemen for a drink to discuss her trip with Dior, wedding plans completely brushed aside. An hour later, they heard a commotion. It was not from the duchess and Natalia St. Vincent, much to everyone's surprise. The commotion came from the hall.

As they all filed out into the corridor, Caroline was running toward them, looking frantic.

"What happened?" Ellise asked, looking behind her friend, counting the children in the hall. One was missing.

"Leila," Caroline breathlessly said. Her husband was immediately at her side, looking grim.

"She just disappeared. Gone. We were entering a shop when we noticed she was missing," Trent explained, eyes on Dior.

Ellise looked at Dior, who nodded and strode away with Trent, Oliver, and their fathers. In the hall, Aliya was ushering the children into the parlor, answering their questions.

"Will we find her?" Camila was asking.

"Will she be all right?" asked Jamie.

When Ellise turned to leave, Caroline asked, "Where are you going?"

"Take care of the children," she said, rushing to the veranda at the rear of the manor, and then straight to the woods.

*****

Yesterday, the sign of land finally emerged from the horizon. And along with it came the tension. As far as Gabrielle knew, the plan was to take Reginald. He was not meant to be killed because, as Arielle told her before she left, Belcourt had a plan for the previous monarch.

"I will be the eye tonight," Nora told her. "You take a rest."

She did not argue and waited until night came, staring blankly at the ceiling, the sound of the crashing waves now a part of her system. The constant shout from the crew of the ship was an echo that would stay in her for a long time.

When minutes turned to hours, Gabrielle sat on her cot, her eyes landing on Nora's side of the cabin. She knew where the woman hid the map she secretly took with her from Belcourt. She also knew where her spare weapons were. Not that she did not trust Nora if the woman kept secrets, but it was part of their training to always be vigilant. To always question. To keep secrets.

She knew Nora had searched her belongings as well. And it would not surprise her if the woman discovered where she hid her spare weapons. She stood and walked to the door dressed in trousers and a thick dress shirt. Strays of red curls flew from the band at her nape as she opened the door and poked her head out. The corridor was empty, but she knew where Nora would be tonight.

Her steps quiet, drowned by the sounds of the sea, Gabrielle walked down the corridor, turned a corner, and slipped behind wooden crates. She waited a few minutes, then continued through another corridor and down a set of stairs, landing in a dark, lower deck lined with more wooden crates and barrels. She slithered to one side, hiding in the shadows as drunk men chattered on one end. Blindly, with her back pressed into the hull of the ship, she walked to the opposite end, counting the portholes as she passed them.

When the chatters disappeared, she stopped and jumped on top of one crate, peering through one porthole.

Just like the many nights before, there was nothing there. She jumped down and rushed to the opposite side and peered. And just as she thought she would find the same dark waves, she stiffened.

From a distance, perhaps merely an hour away, was a silhouette of a ship. And minutes away were five smaller silhouettes.

Boats. Rowing straight toward them.

It only meant one thing: the Soldiers were coming for Reginald.