When Nathanie finally spoke again, his voice carried an edge of discomfort. “Adriana… I’m sorry. Something urgent came up at the manor, so I left earlier. Stay where you are. I’ll come back and get you.”
As he spoke, she could hear movement in the background—plates clinking, chairs scraping lightly against the floor.
Then Olivia’s bright, lively voice drifted clearly through the stone.
“Nathanie! Dinner’s almost done. Where are you heading?”
Adriana closed her eyes briefly and pressed her fingers against her temple. A thin, bitter smile curved her lips.
“It’s fine,” she said evenly. “Don’t bother coming. I’ll handle it myself.”
This time, his pause lasted barely a heartbeat.
“…Alright,” he agreed. “Don’t rush. I made something special tonight. It’ll still be warm when you get back.”
The call ended.
Adriana remained standing in the dim corridor, the silence afterward heavier than the conversation itself. Her chest felt hollow, yet the ache inside only deepened.
Her fingers brushed against the folded transfer contract tucked safely inside her coat pocket.
How was she going to make him agree to her leaving the territory?
Leaning her shoulder against the stone wall for support, she forced herself forward. Each step sent a sharp pulse of pain through her ankle. By the time she reached the main road outside the infirmary grounds, sweat had dampened her clothes despite the cool evening air.
After what felt like forever, she managed to flag down a passing cab.
The moment she sank into the seat, she realized just how drained she was. Her hands were clammy, her skin pale.
The driver glanced at her through the rearview mirror. “Miss, you look unwell. Shouldn’t you call your boyfriend to pick you up?”
Adriana let her head rest against the window, exhaling softly. A faint, humorless laugh slipped out. “I don’t have a boyfriend. Just a fiancé.”
“Then call him,” the driver insisted gently. “You look like you might faint. No fiancé would want something happening to his mate.”
She gave a quiet scoff, eyes fixed on the passing lights outside. “That would be nice. Unfortunately, he’s occupied… with someone else.”
The driver frowned slightly before muttering, “That doesn’t sound very dependable.”
She let out a soft chuckle.
“Dependable?” she repeated. “I’d call it indifference.”