Gen lifted a hand and beckoned me forward.
Behind him, the festivities went on. The pounding of the drums, the laughter, the loud crackle of the bonfires.
Every instinct screamed at me to turn around. To run back into the shadows, to Marcus's arms. Instead, I forced myself to move, dragging my feet toward him despite the dread settling heavily in my chest.
The closer I came, the more aware I became of the men gathered around him and the two unconscious guards lying at their feet.
Gen watched my approach in silence.
There was something unsettling about the expression on his face. Not anger, nor relief. If anything, he looked amused. The corner of his mouth curved upward as if he was pleased to see me making my way back to him, like an obedient servant making her way back to her captor.
The sight made my skin crawl.
For a brief moment, his gaze shifted past me toward the darkness between the buildings. The very place I had emerged from.
My pulse stumbled.
Had he seen him? Marcus?
There was a sharpness in Gen's eyes that had not been there before, as though he had noticed something was amiss and was patiently waiting for me to reveal it myself.
When I finally stopped before him, he reached out and took hold of my wrist.
He drew me to his side, the gesture was gentle enough that no one else would think twice about it. Yet there was something possessive in the way he drew me to his side.
He positioned my beside him deliberately like a lord displaying something precious that belonged to him.
As though it was intended for someone hidden beyond the firelight, someone particular, watching from the shadows.
Gen looked at his two dead soldiers before slowly lifting his gaze back to mine. "Where have you been, Helena?"
"I...apologies, my lord," I said, forcing as much innocence into my expression as I could muster. "I wandered too far. I became lost. I did not even realize the two..."
My words died in my throat.
Cadoc and Brenin were dead. Their necks were bent at unnatural angles, their vacant eyes staring sightlessly toward the night sky.
For a moment, I could only stare.
It did not take someone with a medical degree to know that they were really dead.
My stomach twisted violently.
Because of me.
"An unfortunate incident," Gen murmured.
His gaze followed mine before returning to the two fallen men. There was no grief in his expression. No shock. Only a cold sort of resignation, as though death was something he had long ago learned to expect.
Then his hand found my chin, turning my face gently away from the bodies, tipping my head upward until I was looking up at him instead.
His other arm slipped around my waist.
I tried not to stiffen, tried not to think about Marcus watching somewhere in the shadows.
His blue eyes searched mine for a long moment.
Far too long.
Then, finally, he smiled.
"Let us return home."
His thumb brushed lightly against my jaw.
"You need rest. I believe you have had enough excitement for one evening."
I nodded, grateful that my voice was no longer required.
Gen released me and turned toward his soldiers.
"Bring them back," he ordered calmly. "They served my household faithfully. They deserve a proper burial."
His gaze drifted toward the darkness beyond the settlement, and the smile vanished.
"No investigation is necessary."
The air seemed to tighten around us.
"We already knew who is responsible."
His jaw hardened.
"The Romans."
For a brief moment, I thought his eyes flickered toward the very shadows I had emerged from. But he simply pulled me to the side.
"Come, Helena," he murmured near my ear. "It is only a short walk to the carriage."
Gen kept a hand at my waist as he guided me away from the festival. To anyone watching, it would look protective. Yet I could not shake the feeling that it was something else entirely.
Like he was staking his own claim over me.
He released me only long enough to help me into the carriage before climbing in after me.
The journey back to the manor passed in near silence.
Gen sat right next to me, one arm resting against the window frame, his chin propped upon his hand. He seemed lost in thought, his gaze fixed somewhere beyond the glass. Whatever had happened tonight had clearly unsettled him more than he wished to admit.
My eyes drifted toward the window instead, watching the countryside pass beneath the moonlight. Ancient oaks and dark hills rolling past like shadows, silvered by the glow of the moon overhead.
Here, nature seemed wild and untouched.
Beautiful.
No street lamps. No headlights. No distant glow from a city sprawling across the horizon. Only darkness and moonlight, stretching endlessly across the land.
For the first time since arriving here, I truly understood how different this world was from my own. The way the moon shone so brightly that it could illuminate the road before us. It made me wonder if Marcus had thought about the same thing when he returned.
The moment the carriage rolled into a stop before the manor, Gen was already moving.
Before I could gather my skirts or reach for the door, he climbed out and extended a hand toward me.
Naturally, I accepted it.
Or rather, tried to.
Because the instant my feet touched the carriage step, he swept me up into his arms.
"Gen! Fuck!"
He ignored my protest entirely.
One arm settled beneath my knees while the other supported my back, carrying me as though I weighed nothing at all.
"Put me down."
"You are tired."
"I can still walk."
"I am aware."
The infuriating man continued up the steps without breaking stride.
Servants scattered from our path immediately, lowering their heads as he passed. I could feel the heat rushing to my face as we crossed the entrance hall, then climbed the stairs.
It felt horribly intimate.
Like a bride being carried across the threshold of her new home.
And the thought made my stomach twist.
It felt wrong.
"Gen."
"Helena."
"I am perfectly capable of using my own legs."
"And yet," he said smoothly, his lips quirking up, "here we are."
I glared at him for the remainder of the journey. Even when it achieved absolutely nothing.
By the time we reached his chambers, I had given up on arguing.
He carried me through the doorway before finally lowering me onto the edge of his bed, where I had been shamelessly sleeping on for the past week or so. Ever since he found me, really.
The familiar room seemed strangely quiet after the chaos of the festival.
I kept my hands on my sides, my fingers clutching the edges of his bed as he paced.
Neither of us spoke.
Until Gen halted in his steps and knelt before me.
My breath caught.
His hands came to rest lightly upon my knees, lifting those blue eyes to meet mine, softening. Though far too focused. Steady with intent.
"Helena."
The softness in his voice frightened me more than his anger ever could.
"No one came forward tonight."
My stomach dropped.
"No family."
"No betrothed."
"No husband."
Each word landed heavier than the last.
Outside, the wind rattled softly against the shutters.
Inside, the silence stretched between us.
Gen held my gaze.
"Do you understand what that means?"