The following morning, Evangeline sat rigidly at the elegant dining table, her hands gripping the edges of her ornate chair as if the polished wood could anchor her to reality.

Across from her, Prince Maximilian consumed his breakfast with unsettling composure, his dark eyes occasionally lifting to observe her with that penetrating gaze that seemed to see straight through to her soul.

Neither of them spoke a single word about the previous evening’s events.

About the kiss.

About how she had pressed her lips to his in desperate deception, hoping to prevent him from noticing the stolen journal concealed beneath her gown.

About how he had responded with such consuming passion.

Evangeline swallowed hard, forcing herself to focus on her untouched breakfast. The tension crackling in the air between them was absolutely unbearable.

Prince Maximilian, however, appeared completely unperturbed. He sipped his morning wine with aristocratic grace, regarding her with that same unreadable expression he always wore when deep in contemplation.

She despised his calm demeanor.

Despised that he maintained such perfect silence about their encounter.

Is he waiting for me to address what happened?

She had fled immediately after their kiss, not even remaining to witness his reaction. And now, it was as though nothing had transpired between them at all.

Finally, Prince Maximilian set down his silver fork and leaned back in his velvet-cushioned chair.

“Are you planning to continue avoiding my presence?”

Evangeline nearly choked on her tea. She hastily placed the delicate porcelain cup upon its saucer, refusing to meet his intense gaze. “I am not avoiding you, Your Highness.”

Prince Maximilian’s lips curved into a slight, knowing smirk as he tilted his head. “No? Then why did you retreat so hastily last evening?”

Evangeline clenched her jaw defensively. “I was overcome with fatigue.”

Prince Maximilian released a low, knowing hum. “Indeed.”

He did not press the matter further, but the subtle amusement in his expression made it clear he would not forget this incident so easily.

Evangeline could endure the tension no longer. She pushed back her chair, rising abruptly. “I should attend to Marcus and Adrian’s morning lessons.”

Prince Maximilian raised an eyebrow, observing her with obvious interest as she quickly turned and hurried from the dining chamber as though pursued by demons.

She did not cease her rapid pace until she reached her private chambers, closing the heavy door behind her with obvious relief.

Evangeline’s breathing was uneven, her heart still racing with residual anxiety.

Why did I act so foolishly?

Why did I kiss him?

She shook her head firmly, forcing such treacherous thoughts away. She had far more pressing concerns demanding her attention.

Like the stolen journal.

Like the elderly woman’s ominous warning.

Like discovering the identity of the mysterious woman who had supposedly come before her.

Evangeline seated herself on the edge of her four-poster bed, carefully extracting the leather-bound journal from beneath her silk pillows. She opened it with trembling fingers, her eyes scanning the elegant script for additional clues.

She desperately needed more answers.

She turned another page carefully—when something slipped out and fluttered to the floor.

A portrait.

Evangeline reached down to retrieve it—and released a sharp, startled gasp.

Her hands trembled violently as she stared at the woman depicted in the miniature painting.

It was Lady Cordelia.

Evangeline’s fingers shook as she turned the portrait over, her heart pounding as she read the words inscribed in faded ink.

“Beloved Siblings Forever – M & C.”

Her breath caught in her throat, her mind struggling to comprehend the revelation.

M & C.

Her eyes darted back to the portrait, her stomach twisting with dawning horror. It depicted Prince Maximilian and… Lady Cordelia.

A cold shiver of dread ran down her spine.

Prince Maximilian and Lady Cordelia are siblings?

The discovery made her chest constrict painfully. The way Prince Maximilian had reacted when he learned Lady Cordelia was orchestrating the murders—it had not merely been righteous anger.

It had been deeply, tragically personal.

Evangeline frantically flipped through more pages of the journal, her hands shaking uncontrollably.

There were additional portraits of Prince Maximilian and Lady Cordelia together, some from their childhood, others from their adult years. They appeared remarkably close in every image—perhaps too close for ordinary siblings.

She swallowed hard, her fingers tightening around the delicate pages as she turned them more rapidly, searching desperately for additional revelations.

Then, another name captured her attention.

Georgina.

Evangeline’s heartbeat stuttered.

In one of the older portraits, a woman stood gracefully beside Prince Maximilian. She possessed soft auburn curls, gentle green eyes, and a warm, radiant smile that spoke of genuine happiness.

She was breathtakingly beautiful—but there was something profoundly tragic in her expression, as though she had been carrying a burden too heavy for her tender heart to bear.

Evangeline’s chest tightened as she turned to the following page—only to release a small, shocked gasp.

A portrait of Georgina standing beside a tall window, her delicate hand resting protectively upon her obviously swollen belly.

Evangeline’s breath caught entirely.

Prince Maximilian is a father? she whispered, her voice barely audible in the silent chamber.

Her mind spun wildly with questions. Why had he never mentioned this crucial fact? Where was Georgina now? And most importantly… what had become of their child?

She desperately flipped through more pages, searching for any mention of a birth, a child’s name, any clue whatsoever—but before she could discover anything further, she heard a deep, familiar voice behind her.

“Is that why you kissed me?”

Evangeline froze completely, her breath stopping mid-inhale.

A cold wave of absolute panic crawled up her spine like winter frost.

She turned slowly, clutching the incriminating journal tightly against her chest, her heart hammering violently against her ribs.

Prince Maximilian stood imposingly in her doorway, his dark eyes locked onto her with laser-like intensity, his aristocratic face completely unreadable.

Evangeline swallowed hard, her throat suddenly parched.

She had been caught red-handed.