the Villainess they took for granted

Chapter 168: Chapter 168: the second move

Adrian was still in his study when the report arrived.

He had been expecting it.

Not because he knew precisely when it would come, but because the first move had been set in motion days ago.

His private secretary entered quietly and bowed.

"Your Highness."

Adrian looked up from the document before him.

"Well?"

"The Duke of Ashford has left the capital."

Adrian’s expression did not change.

"When?"

"This morning."

"And the northern command?"

"The matter was presented as requiring His Grace’s personal attention."

Adrian leaned back.

"Did he object?"

"No, Your Highness."

A faint pause.

"He departed without delay."

Adrian nodded once.

Exactly as expected.

Cassian was not a man who could ignore a genuine problem in his own territory. If the reports suggested that the northern routes were becoming unstable, he would go himself before delegating the matter.

Especially now.

Especially with a wedding approaching.

Adrian’s gaze lowered briefly.

He wondered whether Cassian had told Marian before leaving.

Of course he had.

Cassian would never simply disappear.

He would reassure her.

He would promise to return.

And Marian, who had chosen him so completely, would believe him.

Adrian’s fingers rested against the arm of his chair.

"How serious is the situation?"

"Serious enough to justify an inspection, but not yet considered an emergency."

"Good."

The secretary waited.

Adrian’s expression remained thoughtful.

The first move had done exactly what it was supposed to do.

Cassian was away.

But not indefinitely.

If left alone, the matter might be resolved within days.

Perhaps a week.

Cassian would return.

He would resume the wedding preparations.

And the separation would mean nothing.

Adrian had no intention of allowing that.

"Send another instruction."

The secretary straightened.

"Your Highness?"

"Not an instruction to the Duke."

Adrian’s voice remained calm.

"The northern command should continue its assessment."

"Of course."

"And if they uncover anything requiring further investigation, they are to proceed accordingly."

The secretary hesitated.

"Further investigation?"

"Security."

Adrian looked down at the papers on his desk.

"Supply routes. Patrols. Fortifications. Communications. Whatever they deem necessary."

"Yes, Your Highness."

"And the neighboring territories?"

The secretary understood that the question was no longer merely about the original report.

"We can have the regional officials review their own security arrangements."

"Do that."

Adrian paused.

"Quietly."

"Yes."

"No extraordinary orders. No imperial proclamation. Nothing that suggests intervention from the Crown."

The secretary bowed.

"Understood."

Adrian looked toward the window.

The capital continued as usual beyond the glass.

Merchants moved through the streets.

Carriages passed beneath the palace walls.

The court continued its business.

And somewhere on the road north, Cassian was traveling farther away from Marian with every mile.

Adrian felt no satisfaction at the thought.

Only certainty.

This was not enough.

He turned back to his desk.

"Now, House Valmont."

The secretary waited.

Adrian reached for another stack of papers.

"The Duke has several commercial agreements under review."

"Yes, Your Highness."

"How many are currently awaiting renewal?"

"Several. The exact number would need to be confirmed."

"Have them confirmed."

The secretary made a note.

Adrian continued.

"And the shipping concessions connected to Valmont’s eastern trade?"

"There is a dispute regarding one of them."

"I know."

He turned a page.

"What is the status?"

"The commercial ministry has not reached a decision."

"Then it should be reviewed."

"Immediately?"

"Promptly."

The distinction was deliberate.

Adrian looked up.

"I don’t want the matter denied."

The secretary waited.

"I want it examined."

"Yes, Your Highness."

"And if there are irregularities?"

"Then the concession could be suspended."

"Could."

Adrian’s tone remained even.

"But if there are none, it should remain."

The secretary nodded.

Adrian knew exactly what he was doing.

That was what made it so easy to disguise.

He wasn’t ordering anyone to punish Valmont.

He wasn’t confiscating anything.

He wasn’t inventing charges.

He was simply making sure that matters already capable of becoming complicated received additional attention.

A contract delayed here.

A concession reviewed there.

A shipment inspected.

A payment questioned.

A renewal postponed.

Nothing individually devastating.

But enough to consume the Duke’s attention.

Enough to create uncertainty.

Enough to make House Valmont increasingly aware of how vulnerable a great estate could become when several ordinary difficulties appeared at once.

Adrian set the document aside.

"Have the commercial ministry handle everything through the usual channels."

"Of course."

"And make sure no one connects these matters to me."

The secretary’s expression remained carefully neutral.

"Your Highness?"

Adrian looked at him.

"I said the usual channels."

"Yes, Your Highness."

The secretary bowed.

He understood.

Adrian waited until he had reached the door.

"One more thing."

The man turned.

"If House Valmont requests assistance from the Crown, I want to know immediately."

"Yes, Your Highness."

The door closed.

Adrian remained still.

There was nothing unusual about what he had done.

That was the point.

He had not ordered an attack on House Valmont.

He had not demanded money.

He had not threatened the Duke.

He had simply allowed existing difficulties to become slightly more difficult.

And when the time came, if the Valmonts needed assistance—

Adrian would be there.

Helpful.

Reasonable.

Generous.

He could solve problems that he himself had helped create.

It was almost elegant.

Almost.

Adrian rose and walked toward the window.

He could see the palace gardens below.

The thought of Marian entered his mind.

He wasn’t trying to punish Marian.

He wasn’t trying to hurt Cassian.

He had simply made a decision.

He wanted Marian.

And he already knew she would not come back to him willingly.

So he would stop waiting for her to change her mind.

He would change the circumstances that surrounded her instead.

If she would not choose him freely now, then he would make certain that, eventually, he became the choice that remained.

The door opened again.

His secretary returned.

"Your Highness."

Adrian turned.

"The first reports have already been sent north."

"Good."

"And the commercial ministry has acknowledged your instructions."

Adrian nodded.

"Then leave them to it."

The secretary bowed.

He hesitated before leaving.

"Your Highness?"

"What?"

"The wedding invitations."

Adrian’s expression hardened slightly.

"What about them?"

"The Imperial Household received one."

He placed a cream-colored envelope on the desk.

Adrian looked at it.

He hadn’t noticed it earlier among the other correspondence.

The secretary bowed and left.

Silence returned to the room.

Adrian stared at the envelope.

The Valmont crest was embossed beside the Ashford crest.

For several moments, he didn’t touch it.

Then he reached for it.

Inside was a thick card.

Elegant.

Formal.

The kind of invitation appropriate for a wedding between two of the Empire’s most prominent houses.

His eyes moved over the words.

It is with great joy that we invite you to the wedding of His Grace, Duke Cassian Ashford, and Lady Marian Valmont, to be solemnized on the first Saturday of October at the Capital Cathedral, followed by a reception at the Montreuil House.

Adrian read it once.

Then again.

He didn’t know who had written the wording.

He didn’t know what had inspired great joy.

Perhaps it had been Marian.

Perhaps Cassian.

Perhaps a secretary had simply chosen words appropriate for the occasion.

It didn’t matter.

What mattered was that the invitation had clearly been personalized for them.

Their names.

Their date.

Their cathedral.

Their reception.

Everything had been decided.

Everything had been sent.

The wedding was no longer merely something people expected to happen.

It had been formally announced.

Adrian slowly lowered the card.

His eyes moved toward the calendar.

The first Saturday of October.

Not much time.

He thought of Cassian on the road north.

Then of the reports that would continue arriving.

One matter.

Then another.

Each legitimate.

Each requiring attention.

Each giving Cassian another reason to remain where he was.

Adrian looked down at the invitation again.

His expression was perfectly calm.

Almost detached.

He placed the card back on his desk.

Then, very quietly, he said,

"Cassian won’t make it back for his wedding."

And for the first time that evening, Adrian allowed himself a small smile.

--

Tbc

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