The night comes quickly, wrapping the outskirts of the capital in a shroud of black satin. In your dressing room, Irmtraud stands behind you, lifting a heavy, dark traveling robe over your shoulders. She pulls the fabric tight, smoothing the collar with her hands before stepping back.
"Safe travel, Your Highness," she says, her voice steady and calm.
"Yes, I will," you reply, turning around to face her. You look at her for a long moment, noting the quiet dignity in her posture. "You may not believe me, but I am grateful, Irmtraud. For everything you do here."
She smiles and give you a small nod. "I know you are. Now go. Do not keep your lady waiting and have fun."
You slip out of the manor and mount your horse, riding hard through the dark lanes toward the Westarp estate. You do not approach the grand front gates this time. Instead, you guide your mount to the rear of the property, tying the beast to a low branch near the orchard. You slip through the shadows of the garden, using the small iron key to unlock the side servant’s door.
You navigate the back staircases with silent, practiced steps. You visit Beatrice without meeting her husband or alerting a single soul in the grand house. When you open her bedroom door, she is already waiting by the window, her nightgown discarded, welcoming your arrival.
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