At Fleming''s suggestion that he and Esmeralda have some time alone, Esmeralda''s father waved her on with a satisfied smile. "Well, what are you two standing around for?” he teased. “You''ve spent enough time apart with Fleming back now, you can finally build a real rtionship."


    Esmeralda nced at Fleming, utterly lost as to what was going on.


    He just nodded, silent as ever, then turned and walked out into the yard.


    With a twinge of unease, she trailed after him.


    The courtyard was still bathed in light. Fleming kept walking until they were well out of earshot, then turned to face her.


    "What''s with that look?" she asked as she caught up, catching the tension in his eyes, the way he seemed to be holding back something sharp and cold. There wasn''t the faintest trace of warmth in the way he looked at her.


    Even after all this time, being so attuned to Fleming''s moods, Esmeralda knew things were bad.


    "What do you mean?" Fleming asked, voice as hard as ice, but he didn''t raise it. Esmeralda frowned, genuinely bewildered. "What are you talking about?"


    Her confusion struck Fleming that she was ying the innocent, pretending nothing had happened. If Lucy hadn''t told him there would be a meeting today, what would Esmeralda have said to his family?


    "If you didn''t want to call off the wedding, you didn''t have to do all this," he said, his tone crisp and controlled. "Keeping secrets from me won''t solve anything. I''m the groom. Even if you and my father worked everything out behind my back, if I say no, who''s going to force me? And even if the mind changed, there''s nothing shameful about being honest."


    His tone never changed.


    But every word med her for acting on her own without so much as talking to him.


    Only now did Esmeralda realize what was going on.


    Fleming actually thought she''d orchestrated this whole wedding, secretly making arrangements behind his back?


    And that now she might be about to break her word?


    She stared at his cold, steely profile. He''d always been distant-proud, untouchable. She''d grown used to it over the years.


    But right now, it stung worse than ever.


    Her fists clenched tight. His


    expression was like a de, but she


    back down or show


    refused to b


    weakness. Gritting her teeth, she looked him dead in the eye. "You''ve got it all wrong," she shot back. "I said what meant and I don''t go I back on my word. So don''t worry, I won''t stand in your way. You and your precious Lucy can be together."


    "Esmeralda."


    Fleming''s voice dropped, his gaze turning frigid all at once.


    It was anger, but of a kind even he seemed unsure about.


    His jaw tightened, words delivered slow and deliberate: "This is between you and me. Why do you always have to drag Lucy into this? Do you have any idea what would happen to her reputation if someone overheard you say things like that?"


    The question caught Esmeralda off guard. For a moment, she just stood there,


    wounded and frustrated, but her face stayed set and proud.


    There it was again: Lucy''s reputation above everything else.


    "If the two of you


    are so worried


    about her reputation, maybe you should try acting like it!" she snapped her voice clear and unwavering, her gaze stubborn not the one who''s putting her reputation on the line-you are, with your behavior!"


    If things hade to this point, she wasn''t going to pretend anymore.


    She was done hiding.


    Fleming and Lucy weren''t rted by blood, and honestly—even real siblings rarely bent over backward for each other the way Fleming did for Lucy. So what was the real reason for all his favoritism?


    Fleming had never heard Esmeralda speak to him like this.


    The raw, desperate defiance in her gaze pierced him.


    He didn''tsh out, letting the silence stretch out between them and finally spoke.


    "My conscience is clear."