Northern Duke Incoming

The carriage wheels rattled over cobblestones as Seraphina slumped against the velvet seat, fanning herself with a lace handkerchief like a proper lady who hadn't just accidentally called a princess's hair "goals."

"Today was a solid C-minus," she muttered to herself. "Apology delivered. Prince Ralph looked at me like I was contagious. Liliana smiled but definitely thought I was scheming. Progress!"

Martha, sitting across from her with perfect posture, raised an eyebrow. "My lady, you've been talking to yourself since we left the palace. Shall I call for a tonic when we arrive?"

"Only if it comes with fries and a reality check," Seraphina replied, then caught herself. "I mean… a soothing herbal infusion. Yes."

The carriage crested a hill on the approach to the Valtoria estate. Seraphina glanced out the window,and froze.

A massive column of soldiers in black-and-silver armor marched in disciplined formation toward the estate gates. Banners snapped in the wind: a silver wolf on a field of midnight. Heavy warhorses. Cloaks edged in frost-blue. The kind of army that screamed "I conquer things before breakfast."

Her stomach dropped straight through the carriage floor.

No. No no no.

She knew that banner. Every reader of Crown of Thorns and Roses did. Duke Adrian Valdermoth. The Northern Duke. Secret villain. Anti-hero with a killing count higher than her loans.Silver eyes that could freeze blood, rumored to have pulled the strings behind half the empire's quiet assassinations,including hers, in the original plot, all to protect the "pure" heroine.

And he was heading straight for her house.

"Stop the carriage!" she yelped.

The driver didn't hear. Or pretended not to.

Seraphina banged on the roof. "Emergency! Pull over! I need to… dramatically rethink my life choices!"

Martha looked alarmed. "My lady, that is Duke Valdermoth's host. Your father sent the invitation weeks ago for political discussions regarding the northern border. You were quite insistent on attending, actually. You said something about 'securing the Duke's favor by any means.'"

Seraphina wanted to scream. Original Seraphina had been throwing herself at every capture target like a chaotic neutral dating sim protagonist. Of course she'd invited the walking red flag.

"I take it back," she whispered. "All of it. New me is on a strict 'no terrifying dukes' diet."

By the time the carriage rolled through the estate gates, the Duke's vanguard was already dismounting in the courtyard.

Seraphina caught a glimpse of him,tall, broad-shouldered, black hair streaked with premature silver from northern winters (or blood magic, depending on which rumor you believed). Even from a distance, those cold silver eyes scanned everything like a predator cataloging threats.

She ducked low in her seat. "Martha, tell Father I've come down with the plague. No,three plagues. And a twisted ankle. And sudden-onset shyness."

The maid sighed. "As you wish, my lady."

Back inside the opulent Valtoria manor, Seraphina's "faking illness" plan went into overdrive.

She changed into the frumpiest nightgown she could find (still unfairly elegant), mussed her silver hair for maximum "I'm dying" effect, and piled blankets on her bed like a fortress.

When her father's steward knocked, she let out a pathetic cough that sounded more like a dying goose than consumption.

"Lady Seraphina, the Duke has arrived. Your father requests your presence at dinner to discuss the alliance."

"Cough cough,tell them I'm on my deathbed!" she called weakly. "Send my regrets. And soup. Lots of soup."

Silence. Then footsteps retreated.

Seraphina pumped her fist under the blankets. Yes! Low profile achieved. I'll hide here until he leaves. Maybe read a book. Do they have fantasy romance in this world? Meta.

An hour later, the house had gone suspiciously quiet. Too quiet.

She crept out of bed, tiptoeing toward the servants' stairs at the back of the east wing.

If she could reach the hidden library annex, she could barricade herself in with dusty tomes and pretend to be scholarly until the scary Duke went back north.

"Easy mode," she whispered, clutching the banister. "Just don't be main character-ish. Blend. Be wallpaper."

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