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Ana sighed in pleasure.
It had been some time since she’d come here. With her new business and the betrothal, she hadn’t had the time to breathe, let alone relax. Tonight, however, she had felt compelled to wander down here after spotting the first flakes of snow. Everyone else had retired to bed, so she would be alone.
Lifting the sweater she’d been knitting, Ana counted down to the last row she had completed and smoothed out the pattern.
Her evening gowns were gaining popularity in the Family, but the intricate embroidery and delicate materials in those pieces often exhausted her. It was a pleasurable exhaustion, no doubt. But sometimes, she just wanted something imperfect and casual. A cozy piece for a wintry night.
This sweater was perfect for that. Its pattern was simple and repetitive, something she could follow without paying too much attention.
Pattern…
Hm.
The word stuck out jarringly in her mind. Involuntarily, it brought her thoughts back to him–to the guard who had haunted her for the past few months.
I observe and learn patterns. And where there is a pattern, there is an opening.
A shudder ripped through her.
The challenge in his eyes had been chilling. And yet, in a way, she had given in to it. She rarely entered Grandfather’s office, certainly not since the guard’s arrival. Typically, by this time of night, Ana would be in her room, fast asleep or fiddling with a design.
Tonight, however, her pattern was broken.
We can test it out…see if I can still catch you.
Disturbed, she returned her focus to the sweater, only pausing at the end of every row to take in the scenery again. It was an enchanting night, peaceful and quiet. She wouldn’t let him ruin it for her.
Her fingers flew over the wool in an almost unconscious melody, weaving and winding, until eventually, her eyes began to droop. It was hypnotic. The repetitive pattern allowed her mind to disconnect, lulling her lower and lower until–
Creak.
Blinking sleepily, Ana shifted on the seat.
Had she fallen asleep?
The sweater was lying on her lap, and her hands were still holding the knitting needles loosely. It was hard to tell how long she had been out. But it must have been past midnight if the housekeeper was making her rounds, closing up the kitchen before walking back to her room. The woman was yards away, but the sound had woken her up even from here.
Stifling a yawn, Ana curled up and contemplated just sleeping here. Hardly realizing that she was no longer alone.
“Look what I’ve found here…all alone in the corner.”
Her heart stopped, and all the blood rushed to her ears.
Praying that it was a figment of her imagination, Ana clutched her stomach and turned around–only to find the very person she’d feared most standing at the entrance of the office.
The door closed behind him, soft and ominous. With dawning horror, she watched as the guard engaged the locks. His thin, almond eyes settled on her lasciviously.
“You look beautiful in white, sweetheart.”
Her hands fluttered against her breasts, which were nearly visible through the pale nightgown that kept slipping off her shoulder. She wanted to grab the half-sweater off her lap and cover herself up, but she found she could not move.
Every inch of her was paralyzed.
Thump.
Thump.
His feet stepped forward, powerful and intent.
