Chapter 174: Of Letters Delivered and Disasters Foretold
The corridor beyond the Duke of Blackmere's chambers was, by all outward appearances, unremarkable.
Servants passed at measured intervals, their steps softened by thick carpets that swallowed sound. A pair of maids lingered at the far end, speaking in hushed tones as they sorted folded linens into neat piles. Somewhere farther along, a footman adjusted a candelabra with quiet precision, ensuring each flame burned evenly.
It was an ordinary scene.
Which was precisely why nothing about the guard stationed outside the Duke's door invited scrutiny.
