He appeared to be somewhere in his thirties, thin with lines under his eyes. His attire was neat but plainly worn from long hours spent at his profession.
Dark ink stained the edges of his fingers, while faint shadows beneath his eyes spoke of countless late nights spent working.
His expression carried the mild confusion of a man unexpectedly summoned away from his task.
That confusion vanished the instant he recognized Prince Adrian.
His eyes widened in alarm.
Immediately, he bowed deeply, every bit as startled and frantic as the publisher had been before him. After all, it was hardly every day that a humble newspaper writer found himself standing before a royal.
"My lady. Your Highness."
"Mr. Granger," Mr. Thornton said, beckoning him closer with a stiff gesture, "Lady Cassandra Ashford has several questions regarding the last article you wrote."
The writer’s eyes shifted toward Cassandra.
The confusion on his face gradually gave way to unmistakable unease.
"My lady... what is it you wish to know?" The effort it took for him not to stammer through the question was painfully obvious.
Cassandra wasted no time.
She intended to squeeze every answer from him before he had the opportunity to invent excuses.
Had the writer known what awaited him inside that office, he might very well have thought twice before answering the summons.
"You authored the column concerning my broken engagement," she stated bluntly. "The very same article in which you insinuated that I was carrying on a clandestine affair with the Duke of Norham."
Mr. Granger lowered his eyes almost immediately, studying the floor with remarkable interest.
Coward.
"Look me in the eye when I am speaking to you," Cassandra continued, her voice turning colder. "I should very much like to see what sort of man possesses the audacity to spread such malicious lies and besmirch my reputation."
The writer hesitated. Then, with obvious reluctance, he slowly lifted his gaze.
His eyes darted nervously from Cassandra to Prince Adrian and back again, uncertain which of them demanded more caution.
The prince’s expression burned like hot coals, steady and intimidating.
Cassandra’s, however, was colder still.
There was something icy in her stare that could freeze a man to his very soul.
"My lady, please accept my sincerest apologies. I..."
But he never got to finish his sentence. Cassandra’s sharp glare was enough to silence him.
With each passing moment, she felt more like her true self—the formidable woman who had carved her own place in the world through determination and sheer force of will, the bold woman who had never been afraid to demand what was rightfully hers, the fearless soul who had stared down furious opponents without so much as flinching.
The timid young lady who had once allowed others to dictate her worth seemed to fade further into the background with every measured breath she took.
And it pleased her to no end.
"I have no use for your lackluster apologies, so do keep them to yourself. What I require is that your newspaper print a statement retracting all that was written about me by its next release."
His brows drew together.
"My lady, I—"
"No," Cassandra interrupted again. "The only other words I wish to hear from you are those expressing your complete agreement and cooperation."
She neither raised her voice nor allowed even the faintest trace of irritation to seep into it. There was no need. Calmness served her purpose far better than anger ever could.
A composed demand carried far greater authority than an emotional outburst, and she knew it.
"The next release shall state, in terms sufficiently clear to prevent any further speculation, that the conclusions drawn in your previous article were entirely erroneous and ought not to be credited. Whatever speculation your publication created, it will now dispel. I expect the correction to be as unambiguous as the accusations were."
Mr. Granger instinctively turned toward his employer, hoping that Mr. Thornton might intervene on his behalf. But he was sorely disappointed.
Mr. Thornton closed his eyes for the briefest of moments before releasing a quiet, weary sigh.
The lines around his mouth deepened as though the weight of the request had settled squarely upon his shoulders. It was plain to see what troubled him.
His newspaper had published a sensational story that had spread throughout the capital with remarkable speed. Readers had devoured every word, eager to believe the worst.
To retract it a week later would undoubtedly cast doubt upon the credibility of his establishment. Once public confidence was shaken, restoring it would prove no simple task.
Yet the alternative was far worse.
"It shall be done," Thornton said at last, sounding resigned.
Cassandra gave a single, firm nod. "See that it is."
The publisher understood the dismissal for what it was.
After offering a respectful bow, he quietly withdrew from the office, gently pulling the door shut behind him. The faint click echoed softly through the room, leaving only Cassandra, Adrian, and Mr. Granger behind.
For several long moments, no one spoke. Then Cassandra turned her attention to the writer once more.
"I have one final question, and I urge you to be candid, as it would be in your best interest." She took a slow step toward him.
"Who made you write that article?"
The question caught him visibly off guard.
His eyes widened ever so slightly before uncertainty crept across his features.
"I don’t know what you mean, my lady."
"Cease with the games. There is little time for such nonsense." Her gaze never wavered. "I want your complete honesty. Is it that you cannot tell me, or that you will not? Which will it be?"
"I cannot." There was no defiance in his voice. Only uncomfortable sincerity.
"I was never introduced to the person truly responsible. I dealt only with an intermediary. Such arrangements are not uncommon." He swallowed before continuing. "The man claimed to represent a powerful employer but never disclosed who it was, nor did I believe it my place to inquire. He provided the subject of the article, offered his payment, and departed. I never saw him again."