Modric’s POV
The messenger had chosen a private imperial garden for a reason.
No Council guards.
No official witnesses.
No banners showing which house had sent him.
Only high stone walls, winter roses, and an old fountain loud enough to cover quiet conversation.
He thought I had come alone.
I had not.
Kylian waited beyond the garden walls with two trusted guards, far enough away that the messenger would not scent them. A small recording crystal rested inside my coat.
Mary Ann knew where I was.
That mattered.
A year ago, I would have come here without telling her. I would have convinced myself secrecy was necessary. That I was protecting her. That I should hear the offer, make the difficult decision, then tell her what I had decided.
I understood now how easily protection became
