Chapter 335: v4 - 36: how to get him alone III

Chapter 335: v4 Chapter 36: how to get him alone III

The doors closed behind Adrian.

Marian stood alone in the apartments for a moment.

Then she looked down at herself.

She was still wearing the comfortable clothes she had chosen for staying in with Adrian.

Nothing formal.

Nothing suitable for being seen outside the private apartments.

She frowned.

She could hardly walk through the palace dressed like this.

Not because anyone would recognize her.

Because she would look ridiculous.

Marian turned toward her dressing room.

She needed something inconspicuous.

Something simple.

Something that would not attract attention if anyone happened to see her.

She opened the wardrobe.

Then stopped.

There were several possibilities.

A pale blue dress.

Too noticeable.

A darker one.

Perhaps.

She pulled it out.

Then put it back.

Another.

Too elegant.

Another was too plain.

Marian frowned at the rows of clothing.

Why was this suddenly so difficult?

She was not dressing for anyone.

She simply needed something appropriate enough to leave the apartments without looking as though she had just stepped out of bed.

That was all.

She finally selected a simple dress in a muted shade, plain enough not to attract attention but still well-fitted and flattering.

Marian held it up.

This one.

Good.

She changed quickly.

Then she turned toward the mirror.

She studied her reflection.

Her hair was slightly loose from having spent the evening in the private apartments.

She adjusted it.

Then stopped.

She tilted her head.

Perhaps she should do something with it.

Not because she was trying to look pretty.

Obviously not.

She simply did not want to look disheveled.

Marian smoothed a few loose strands into place.

Then she looked at herself again.

She was fine.

More than fine, actually.

Her gaze lingered on her reflection for another moment.

Well.

If she was going to confront that man after six years, he could at least see what he had lost.

Marian immediately frowned at herself.

That was petty.

She liked it.

She reached for a simple dark cloak.

This would do.

She fastened it around herself and pulled the hood loosely over her head.

There.

Inconspicuous.

At least, that was what she told herself.

Marian glanced once more at the mirror.

She looked perfectly ordinary.

Which was exactly what she wanted.

She turned away.

Now she only had to get there without anyone seeing her.

--

She left the dressing room and crossed to the far side of the chamber.

There was a small panel concealed within the wall.

Adrian had shown it to her years ago.

Marian pressed her fingers against the hidden mechanism.

The panel released with a soft click.

She stared into the narrow passage beyond.

She had never imagined she would actually use this.

Certainly not for this.

Marian glanced back toward the empty room.

Then she stepped inside.

The passage was narrow and dim.

She pulled the panel closed behind her and began walking.

The farther she went, the quieter everything became.

For a moment, Marian wondered whether she had remembered the route correctly.

Adrian had shown her several passages over the years.

Some led toward the older sections of the palace.

Others connected to the gardens.

This one, if she remembered correctly, would take her toward the western side.

Hopefully.

She continued.

Her footsteps sounded strangely loud in the darkness.

Marian tightened her cloak around herself.

This was ridiculous.

She was not frightened.

There was nothing frightening about walking through a secret passage in her own palace at night.

Probably.

She kept going.

Eventually, she reached the end.

Marian stopped before the concealed exit.

She listened.

Nothing.

Good.

She carefully opened it.

Cool night air touched her face.

She stepped out.

She found herself near one of the palace gardens.

Marian looked around.

No guards.

No servants.

No one.

For once, everything had gone according to plan.

She pulled the hood farther over her head and started toward the western apartments.

She kept to the quieter paths whenever possible.

At one point, she heard footsteps approaching.

Marian immediately stepped behind a nearby column.

She held her breath.

Two servants passed without paying her any attention.

Marian waited until their footsteps faded before emerging again.

She exhaled.

This was becoming ridiculous.

She was the Empress.

She should not have to hide behind columns in her own palace.

But she continued anyway.

The western apartments finally came into view.

Marian looked up.

Third floor.

Room twelve.

She had never been so conscious of a number in her life.

She entered the building and climbed the stairs carefully.

At the first landing, she paused.

Nothing.

She continued.

At the second, she looked down the corridor before proceeding.

Still clear.

By the time she reached the third floor, Marian was beginning to feel as though she were committing an actual crime.

Which, technically, she probably was.

She walked down the corridor.

Room twelve.

There.

Marian stopped in front of the door.

She reached beneath her cloak and took out the key.

Then hesitated.

What if this was not actually his room?

What if the assignments had changed?

What if the delegation had exchanged rooms?

What if she had somehow misunderstood the register?

Marian stared at the door.

Well.

There was only one way to find out.

She inserted the key.

The lock turned.

Marian slowly opened the door.

The room was dark.

She slipped inside and closed the door behind her.

For several seconds, she simply stood there.

All right.

She was inside.

Now what?

Marian looked around.

The room was comfortable enough.

Not luxurious, but certainly respectable for a visiting marquess.

There was a bed against one wall, a writing table near the window, a chair beside it, and a wardrobe along the opposite side.

A small adjoining washroom was accessible through another door.

Everything was neat and orderly.

Marian looked around again.

So this was where Cassian had been staying.

Or Carlo.

Whatever name he was using.

She moved toward the wardrobe.

If she was going to wait here, she needed to be certain she had not somehow entered the wrong room.

She opened it.

Several finely made garments hung inside.

Marian’s fingers brushed lightly over one of the coats.

She stopped.

She knew that coat.

He had worn it.

Her expression tightened.

So it really was his.

He was here.

Cassian was here.

Marian closed the wardrobe.

She should leave it at that.

Instead, her eyes moved toward the writing table.

Several documents had been placed there.

She approached.

The papers were formal correspondence relating to the delegation.

The name Carlo of Valmere appeared more than once.

Marian looked at the handwriting.

She knew Cassian’s handwriting.

She had seen it countless times before.

Her heart gave a small beat.

She picked up another document.

There.

A signature.

Carlo of Valmere.

The name meant nothing.

The handwriting did.

Marian stared at it for a long moment.

She knew him.

She was certain.

There was no longer any room for doubt.

This was Cassian.

She placed the document back exactly where she had found it.

Then she stepped away from the desk.

All right.

She had confirmed it.

Now she only had to wait.

Marian looked toward the door.

And suddenly another problem occurred to her.

What if he came back with someone?

She froze.

What if another Milician nobleman accompanied him?

Or a servant?

Or one of the women who seemed to enjoy surrounding him at every social event?

Marian’s eyes widened.

That would be a disaster.

She could not simply be standing in his room when he returned.

She needed somewhere to hide.

Her gaze moved around the room.

The curtain?

No.

Absolutely not.

She was not hiding behind a curtain.

Under the bed?

Marian stared at the narrow space beneath it.

What was she thinking?

She was the Empress.

She was not hiding under a bed like a thief.

She looked toward the washroom.

She stopped.

That might actually work.

If Cassian returned with someone, they were unlikely to enter the washroom immediately.

And if he returned alone, she could simply step out.

Marian nodded slowly.

That was the least ridiculous option available.

Which was not saying much.

She walked into the adjoining washroom.

It was small but comfortable, with a washstand, a mirror, and a narrow space near the wall where she could remain out of sight.

Marian looked back toward the bedroom.

This was absurd.

Completely absurd.

She had come here intending to demand answers from Cassian.

And now she was hiding in his washroom.

She closed her eyes.

Closure.

That was all.

She repeated the word silently.

Then she waited.

--

Tbc

AN: Finally!!!!! Omg the next Chapter finally finally. I cant hahahahaha