Chapter 4 - The Truth in the Ashes
Three days later,
the ruins of Ashford Manor were still smoldering,
a black skeleton of stone and twisted metal that stood as a monument to the fragility of power.
Nathaniel was recovering in a private suite at the hospital,
his lungs healing but his heart permanently altered by the events of that night.
Victoria had visited him twice,
both times spending more time talking to her lawyer about the prenuptial agreement and the insurance status than she did talking to the man in the bed.
"We should start looking at real estate in the city,"
Victoria said during her third visit,
fiddling with her diamond ring.
"The mansion was old anyway,
Nathaniel,
this is a chance for a fresh start for us."
Nathaniel looked at her,
really looked at her,
seeing the vacuity and the calculated coldness that he had ignored for the sake of a social alliance.
"When the fire started,
Victoria,"
he said,
his voice still raspy from the smoke,
"where were you?"
"I was getting help,
of course!"
she lied,
her eyes darting away for a fraction of a second.
"You were at the gates,"
he countered,
his voice flat and final.
"I saw the security footage from the gatehouse before it cut out."
"You didn't even look back."
"Neither did my mother."
Victoria opened her mouth to argue,
but Nathaniel held up a hand,
silencing her with a coldness that was even sharper than it had been before the fire.
"The engagement is over,"
he said.
"I want you out of the guest house by evening."
"You can keep the ring;
consider it a severance package for a job poorly done."
After she stormed out,
shouting threats that meant nothing to a man who had almost met his end,
Nathaniel sent for the one person he actually wanted to see.
Elena entered the room quietly,
wearing a simple dress she had bought with the emergency funds the housekeeper had distributed.
Her hands were bandaged,
and there was a small,
fading mark on her temple where she had hit the door frame,
but to Nathaniel,
she looked more beautiful than any woman he had ever met.
"Why did you do it?"
he asked,
motioning for her to sit in the chair beside him.
"I told you once,
sir,"
she said,
her eyes steady and soft.
"Because someone should care."
"Even you."
Nathaniel reached out with a trembling hand and touched her bandaged fingers,
his thumb tracing the edge of the gauze.
"Thirty people ran for the gates,"
he whispered.
"People I have known my whole life."
"People I have given everything to."
"And the only person who came for me was the woman who irons my shirts."
"I'm not a bank account anymore,
am I?"
"No,"
Elena said,
a small smile playing on her lips.
"You're just a man who's remarkably bad at escaping fires."
They sat in silence for a long time,
May you like
the hospital machines beeping a quiet rhythm,
as the old walls between them finally crumbled into the same ash as the mansion.
