Nathaniel, who had remained silent until then, finally spoke.
"Enough." His voice carried the finality of a judge delivering a sentence. "This conversation has gone on long enough."
He looked directly at Cassandra. "Tomorrow morning you will call upon William Ravenshire. You will apologise and you will ask John to forgive your conduct."
Cassandra was perplexed. For several seconds she genuinely believed she’d misheard.
Then she realised... her father was being serious.
Even now, after the engagement had been publicly ended before half the kingdom, he still believed it could be repaired.
A strange weariness settled over her.
"You still don’t understand."
Nathaniel’s patience had waned long ago.
"There is nothing to understand."
If the roles were reversed and Edmund refused to marry a woman they had chosen for him, would their parents still behave this way?
If she became the daughter they wanted, perhaps one day they would choose her unconditionally.
But it was only a childish fantasy.
They never would and that realization fractured something in Cassandra’s soul.
It was more like watching the final thread of an old tapestry finally snap after years of strain.
"You always choose John." She murmured under her breath. "No matter what, you will always choose John."
Her mother’s lips curled into a sneer. "Of course we choose John. As things stand, how could we not?"
Cassandra felt the air leave her lungs.
Vivienne continued, seemingly unaware of the devastation she’d just caused.
"He has shown this family nothing but kindness. He has shown us respect. He would never deliberately humiliate us in front of our peers. I wish you had shown us the same consideration."
The room blurred as the first tear rolled down Cassandra’s cheeks. She felt a crushing weight on her chest, slowly suffocating her.
This was how her mother truly felt and it stung more than anything.
Cassandra slowly turned towards Edmund. His face remained grim.
She already knew the answer to her question, yet she asked anyway.
"Do you agree with her?"
A long silence followed.
Then he nodded.
"I do. I don’t know what we did to deserve this." As if that wasn’t harsh enough, he added, "I must have committed some unforgivable sin in another life to be burdened with a sister as selfish and inconsiderate as you."
The library door was pushed open and Draven Montague stood in the threshold.
His dark blue eyes took in the room in a single glance before quickly settling on Cassandra.
His gaze lingered on her bruised wrist. Then on her tear stained face.
Something in his expression changed immediately, almost too subtle to notice.
The softness that was reserved for only a handful of people vanished, giving way to the cold, inscrutable mask the Duke of Norham was known for.
He turned his focus to Nathaniel and Edmund and the look he gave them was so harsh that few men could have met it without flinching.
"I’ve been looking for Lady Cassandra." Draven said, making no effort to hide the fact that he overheard parts of their conversation.
"Pardon me, your grace but this truly isn’t an appropriate time." Nathaniel’s hostility melted away in an instant now that he was in the presence of someone more influential, someone he couldn’t control.
"So I gathered." Draven said before disregarding Nathaniel’s words all together. "Lady Cassandra. Would you care to leave?"
He stepped away from the door without another word, giving her room to choose.
Seeing him there caught her off guard, especially when he’d never said he would be attending. And his question, gentle and unimposing as it was, was almost her undoing.
She nodded once.
"Yes. I want to leave this place." Cassandra said, walking towards the door.
Not one of them tried to stop her.
It struck Cassandra then that she had experienced this moment countless times throughout her childhood. Whenever she quarrelled with her parents, she would retreat to her room, convinced they would come after her.
They always had in the past but tonight, no one did and she was forced to accept what her heart had resisted for years.
They had already made their choice. It simply wasn’t her. There was no reason to remain where she had never truly been wanted.
Without another word, she walked past Draven. Together, they walked out of Ravenshire Manor.
Outside, the evening air was cool. Draven stepped forward and opened the carriage door, waiting until Cassandra stepped inside before climbing in after her.
Once they were settled, he peered at her.
Concern lingered in his eyes, as though he feared she might break.
She didn’t even have the strength to be angry at him.
"Where would you like to go?" He asked after a while of sitting together in silence.
Cassandra thought of returning to Ashford House but the mere thought of walking through those doors again and encountering any member of her family felt unbearable.
"The palace," she said quietly. Queen Delphine had always treated her like a mother and the palace had become like her second home.
He nodded thoughtfully.
With a sharp knock against the carriage roof, he relayed the instruction to the coachman.
The carriage lurched forward, and Cassandra watched Ravenshire Manor recede into the darkness until it disappeared from view.
The prospect of being alone with Draven on the ride to the palace hardly bothered her. From the ease with which he had helped her get away from her parents, she doubted it bothered him either.
She rested her head against the window as pools of lantern light drifted across the glass.
"Cassandra." Draven called, voice tinged with worry. "Are you alright?"
She felt the familiar urge to lie.
I’m fine, she wanted to say. The words rose automatically, as they always did.
Instead, she lifted her gaze to meet his, allowing him to see the anguish she had long kept hidden.
"No. I am not alright." She no longer had the strength to pretend otherwise.
Draven didn’t offer hollow reassurances or press her with more questions after that.
He simply remained beside her, saying nothing as the carriage carried them toward the palace.
For reasons Cassandra couldn’t explain, his quiet presence brought her more comfort than words ever could.