Lucien nervously kneaded his fingers as he walked through the castle’s endless corridors, following the pull of the mate bond one hesitant step at a time.

He didn’t notice the soft rustling of climbing vines that covered the stone walls.

Nor the lazy buzzing of bees drifting from blossom to blossom. Nor the deeper hum of bumblebees disappearing into delicate flower cups.

His entire world had narrowed to the corridor ahead.

The fox Beastman barely registered the servants stepping aside to let him pass.

Their polite bows.

Their quiet greetings.

The sympathetic glances that followed him.

By now, the entire castle knew what had happened.

And strangely... Instead of envy, there was pity.

Every Beast male dreamed of finding a female.

Every unmated male envied those fortunate enough to be chosen.

Yet none of them envied Lucien.

Because there were few things crueler than disappointing the female who hadn’t marked you.

If Mirabelle truly rejected him...

The fox Beastman would spend the rest of his life feeling her through the bond.

Knowing when she laughed.

Knowing when she cried.

Knowing when she found comfort in the arms of another mate.

Close enough to feel everything.

Too far away to share any of it.

Not even one’s worst enemy deserved that.

Lucien’s fox ears hung low against his head. His tail dragged lifelessly across the polished floor behind him. His shoulders had long since lost their usual confidence. Even his handsome face seemed drained of color.

Inside him, two instincts fought a relentless battle.

One begged him to obey Mirabelle’s wishes.

To stay away.

To wait until she chose to see him again.

The other screamed at him to find her.

To explain.

To fix what he had broken before the damage became irreversible.

Kaelith had ultimately made the decision for him. The hyena had practically shoved him toward the door.

"Go.

Fix it!"

As First Mate, Kaelith’s bond with Mirabelle was stronger than Lucien’s.

If he’d sent him...

Then he must have believed Mirabelle was ready to hear him.

Or at least ready not to throw something heavy at his head.

Lucien sincerely hoped it was the former.

Even so...

Every instinct protested.

A female’s wishes bordered on absolute law.

Everything inside him urged him to turn around. To wait.

She would come when she was ready.

He knew she would.

But he also knew something else.

He wouldn’t survive being alone with his own thoughts until then.

That was the curse of an overactive mind.

It never stopped.

It reconstructed every conversation.

Every word.

Every hesitation.

Every possible outcome.

What if she’d never trusted him as much as he’d believed?

What if this hadn’t merely cracked that trust... but shattered it completely?

What if every smile she’d ever given him became nothing more than polite courtesy from now on?

What if she never looked at him the same way again?

His chest tightened.

Lucien wished his mind were less intelligent.

Just for a little while.

Long enough to stop imagining futures in which he still stood beside Mirabelle...

Yet no longer belonged there.

Mirabelle was still sitting on the window bench, staring blankly at the spot where Pebbles had disappeared.

Elowen’s letter had slipped from her fingers.

Its pages now lay scattered across the stone floor, carried apart by the gentle breeze drifting through the arched windows.

Some of them caught against flowering pots lining the corridor. Others rustled softly whenever another breeze wandered through the open arches.

That lingering bewilderment was the very first thing Lucien felt through the bond as he approached.

He immediately assumed it was because of him. The faint irritation underneath only reinforced the conclusion.

What he failed to notice was that Mirabelle wasn’t even looking at him. She hadn’t sensed his arrival.

Convinced she’d seen him long ago, Lucien instinctively raised both hands in surrender before stopping a few steps away.

Only then did Mirabelle glance up.

Beyond him, climbing roses swayed around the pale stone columns.

Somewhere in the gardens below, a fountain splashed quietly.

Her brow was still furrowed from her conversation with Pebbles, making her next words sound far harsher than she’d intended.

She was more surprised than angry that the fox Beastman had actually dared to approach her.

"I thought I told you I didn’t want to see or speak to you, Lucien."

She had meant to tease him.

Just a little.

But her emotions were still tangled from Pebbles’ suspicious behavior, and Lucien’s panicked mind was already twisting every signal into the worst possible interpretation.

His entire internal alarm system went off.

So he blurted out the first thing that entered his mind.

"I’m not Lucien."

Mirabelle blinked. Then she almost laughed.

One eyebrow slowly rose.

"...You’re not?"

A bee drifted lazily between the blossoms climbing the nearest arch before continuing on its way, blissfully unconcerned with noble identities.

Lucien released a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

At least...

She was playing along.

"Who are you, then?"

The first name that crossed his mind escaped before he could reconsider it.

"Ryan."

Mirabelle shook her head internally.

This male really is unbelievable.

Meanwhile, Lucien’s brilliant mind finally resumed functioning. Straightening his posture, he executed a flawless, elegant bow.

"Ryan of Rotwald." One hand rested behind his back. The other extended toward her, palm upward. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance."

Still bent in his bow, he waited patiently.

A loose strand of copper hair slipped over his shoulder, catching the sunlight before he brushed it back with practiced elegance.

Mirabelle decided to be merciful.

She placed her hand into his.

"I’m not yet convinced it’ll be a pleasure, Ryan." She deliberately lingered over the unfamiliar name. "I suppose we’ll have to find out."

A mischievous smile tugged at her lips:

"My name is Ella of Luchsenstein."

If he was going to hide behind an alias...

So was she.

"It is an honor, Lady Ella."

Without breaking eye contact, Lucien bent lower and gently brushed his lips across the back of her hand.

The kiss was featherlight.

Yet warmth spread all the way up her arm.

The brush of his lips was almost imperceptible. It was the bond that made it linger.

Through their connection, Lucien felt the shift almost instantly. Her mood had lifted.

Relief flooded his chest.

Internally, he could have kissed Kaelith’s feet.

Metaphorically, of course.

He would never lower himself to kissing another male’s feet.

...

Mirabelle’s, perhaps. But certainly no one else’s.

She withdrew her hand and folded it neatly in her lap.

Then the interrogation began.

"So, Ryan..." She tilted her head. "What brings you here?"

Lucien straightened once more. One hand rested over his heart. The other remained clasped behind his back.

The leaves above them whispered softly in the wind.

For a brief moment, it really did feel as though they were strangers meeting for the first time.

"I have come to improve the relationship between House Rotwald and House Luchsenstein."

"Oh?"

Mirabelle’s eyes sparkled.

A patch of sunlight wandered across her face as clouds drifted overhead, turning the gold in her eyes almost molten.

"So the relationship is poor enough that it requires improvement?"

A smile played around her lips, though she did everything she could to remain in character.

"Not at all," Ryan — certainly not Lucien — replied immediately. "However, I have reason to believe a rather unfortunate misunderstanding recently occurred.

And I would very much like to resolve it."

Mirabelle lifted a hand to her mouth in exaggerated astonishment, as though she’d just heard the juiciest piece of gossip imaginable.

Considering Elowen’s letter... Perhaps she had.

"A misunderstanding?" She leaned forward.

"What sort of misunderstanding?"

The fox Beastman swallowed.

His tail gave a single, nervous flick behind him before he forced it perfectly still.

This was it.

"It would appear that a certain member of House Rotwald..." He hesitated.

"...a gentleman by the name of Lucien...

...managed to upset the heir of House Luchsenstein by withholding certain information from her."

"No."

Mirabelle gasped dramatically.

Lucien winced.

"...I’m afraid so, Miss Ella.

I can assure you there was never any malicious intent.

The man simply lacked the foresight to understand how deeply his silence would wound her.

He caused her pain.

And House Rotwald regrets that more than words can express.

I am here to correct his mistake."

Mirabelle was unexpectedly pleased by the description.

One ear gave an involuntary little twitch. She pretended not to notice.

The bond certainly did.

If she weren’t actively trying to maintain her composure... She might have purred.

The bond happily informed Lucien of exactly that.

"So..." She folded her hands together.

"What do you intend to do to make amends?"

Lucien looked directly into her eyes.

There wasn’t the slightest trace of humor in his answer.

"Whatever is necessary."

Mirabelle’s smile turned positively mischievous.

"Very well." She nodded with all the dignity of a noble lady issuing official business. "Then I expect you in the Rose Garden this afternoon.

I shall speak with the heiress of House Luchsenstein and inform you what must be done."

Lucien’s heart nearly leaped out of his chest.

Relief crashed through him so suddenly his knees almost weakened. His shoulders loosened so subtly that only another Beast could have noticed.

The tight knot that had sat beneath his ribs since their argument finally began to loosen.

For the first time all day, he could breathe properly again.

She was giving him a chance.

A real chance.

At the same time, the bond whispered another truth.

Mirabelle was planning something.

Something elaborate.

Something dangerous.

He didn’t care.

He had meant every word.

Whatever awaited him in that rose garden...

He would face it gladly if it meant earning back her trust.