The library smelled of old leather and secrets. I ran my fingertips along the spines of my mother's journals, arranged chronologically on the highest shelf of our family's private collection. These weren't her gardening diaries or social calendars, but the bound records of darkness—experiences she'd documented for her children, should the shadows ever return.
I hadn't touched them since Father died.
"Your Grace, I've brought the lamp you requested."
Samuel stood in the doorway, his face carefully neutral though I knew he questioned my sudden interest in these forbidden texts.
"Thank you," I said, taking the brass lamp from him. "Has Professor Morian left the estate?"
"Yes, Your Grace. Though he requested permission to return tomorrow to discuss some academic matters with you."
I nodded slowly. "When he returns, have him escorted directly to my study. And Samuel—have someone discreetly follow him for the next few days. I want to know where he goes, who he meets with."
