Trent had his unmarked carriage marked two blocks away from the Stanway estate. They were told that it would be empty tonight, but there would still be the staff to worry about.

Without warning, the door of his carriage opened and a blond man jumped in, his face covered. Terence Garmont. "Good evening," the man greeted, throwing Trent a piece of leather. "Cover your face."

Trent held the straps of the leather and tied it over his nose and mouth. "Where's Greene?"

Just as he asked, a knock came to the door of the carriage and a man dressed in black walked past them, walking down the side of the road that led to the Stanway estate.

Stefan Northcott, the Viscount of Greene, was perhaps the most experienced Royal in their little group of three. Garmont, Trent was told, had been to over ten missions such as this one. Greene, countless. Trent, on the other hand, was having his first.

"Do not fail this one," his father had told him last night.

He would hate to fail, but he would despise the look on his father's face if they did not get what they came here for tonight.

Jumping out of the carriage, Garmont followed him down the road. As instructed, his carriage wheeled away.

Greene was walking toward the estate, a good distance away from them.

No one was talking.

Jubert Stanway, the Duke of Islefield, was the most trusted advisor of the king. If the Royal's information was correct, and if the man was tasked to find Reginald in London, they needed as much information as they could. Blackwood wanted to know how much the current king knew and how far they were from Reginald.

When Trent and Garmont reached the estate, they hid behind a shrubbery and waited.

In less than five minutes, the front doors opened. They both looked down both sides of the road and stepped out of hiding. Without a sound, they slipped through the doors. In the hall, Greene was already waiting.

Communicating with their eyes, Trent nodded and climbed the stairs that led to the study.

He had not been here many times, but the three times he was, he had learned the layout of the villa. It was not a complicated one. In fact, it was very similar to many villas of prominent people in Coulway. His father owned one nearly the same as this.

Garmont was behind him, Greene somewhere in the estate looking for any sign of trouble.

The estate was silent.

In fact, it was the reason Trent stopped outside the study.

Garmont glared at him, telling him to hurry.

No, something was not right.

It was too silent. And this was too easy.

But as Garmont reached for the key Trent was holding in his hand, he wondered if he was just expecting something more complicated.

Maybe this was just exactly how it should be after weeks of planning.

Maybe it was supposed to be easy.

He heard the lock click as Garmont turned the key, and the door swung open.

Trent looked over his shoulder and followed Garmont into the room.

The man went straight to the table and started opening drawers.

Trent turned and walked to the nearest cabinet to start a search.

And then it happened.

Wherever they came from, he did not know.

They just appeared and started attacking. Trent felt the pressure of the blade against his left shoulder before the thought they were being attacked came to him. When it did, it was a second too late. He found himself facing the floor.

From somewhere around the table, he heard Garmont elicit a grunt as he fought with his own attacker.

Trent rolled to his right just as the tip of the sword struck the floor where his chest was. As he did so, he swung his right leg and floored his attacker. A thud and a grunt.

Female.

Gritting his teeth, Trent scrambled to his feet at the same time as his attacker. He kicked her sword from her hand and she stumbled back to regain her balance. She was dressed in black, her face hooded and covered.

As Trent prepared to swung his arm and land a punch, he found himself twisted and lurched back on the floor.

A third opponent.

That was when Greene walked in and kicked the third woman standing above Trent. And that was when the other attacker gathered her sword from the floor and strike, slicing Greene's left leg.

Trent grabbed his pistol from his coat, but another woman kicked it out of his hand.

Behind them, Garmont sent his attacker crashing against the wall before he ran to regroup with Trent and Greene. The three of them stood back to back, circling as the three women circled them, rapiers in hand.

"Good evening, ladies," Greene greeted behind his mask. "We did not expect such aggressive company tonight."

One of the women advanced as Greene talked, pointing her rapier at Trent who dodged the attack by bending low, following it with a satisfying punch against the woman's gut. She stumbled back, her eyes glinting with fury.

Her two companions stood in front of her, swords pointed outward—protecting.

"Let us not waste time," said Greene, pulling his gun out of his coat pocket.

As he did so, one woman reached out for Garmont and held her sword against his throat.

"Your companion is losing a lot of blood," the woman on the right said, her green eyes flickering toward Garmont whose hand was on his waist, covered with blood. "We suggest you take him out of here."

Trent threw Greene a look.

For what seemed like a long moment, Greene was motionless, his pistol steadily pointed at the woman with the green eyes.

And then he held up his hands and slowly bent down to place it on the ground. The woman grabbed the pistol, and the other pushed Garmont toward them.

"Go now, gentlemen," the green-eyed woman said. "Lord Islefield wishes to let the Circus know that Reginald's head will be delivered to you in time."

Trent caught Garmont who swayed, hand on his wound. He searched Garmont's coat for a pistol, but it was not there. The other woman had recovered from Trent's attack and was glaring at them as she joined her two companions.

"Greene," he hissed at Greene, who had not moved from his spot. He backed away with Garmont, almost dragging the man to the door.

"Until next time, ladies," Greene growled, slowly backing away from the room.

Trent dragged Garmont down the stairs, across the hall, and out the doors. The carriage was already waiting for them.

As he assisted his wounded companion into the carriage, Trent looked over his shoulder. Greene had not yet emerged.

"Bloody tarnation," he gritted out before he whirled around to look for the man, but Greene was already running through the doors as he did so. "Where have you been!" Trent demanded.

"I had to make sure they would not run after us, you idiot," Greene said, rushing past him and into the carriage. "Sinclair, now!" he shouted to the driver.

The carriage wheeled away when Trent jumped in. Greene was already inspecting Garmont's wound, brows dipped in a frown.

"How did they know we'll be here?" Trent asked.

Greene tore his leather mask off his face. "How else?" the man asked, glaring at Trent.

⠒♣◆♣⠒

"Aliya must be devastated. This is not how she planned this."

Caroline pressed her back against the wall, listening to Fatima, Carrie, and Shay in the kitchen. She worried her lips while digesting the things the women were saying.

For over a quarter of an hour now, the ladies had been talking about Aliya's sister who was courted into the Palace. Apparently, her maids did not find the news appealing.

And from what Caroline had gathered, Oliver St. Vincent's wife was planning something.

Was it something against Belcourt?

If so, the former Belle's former maids seemed to know about it.

Could they be comrades?

Caroline pushed away from the wall and quietly retreated to the parlor to wait for her guests. Ten minutes later, they arrived.

Jade was wearing a green dress, very similar to a dress Caroline procured two months ago; her red hair a little less arranged than Caroline was used to, with strays escaping their pins. Ruby was in a scarlet dress, her black hair swept to the side, her hat perfecting her look.

"You look marvelous, Ruby," Caroline complimented with a smile. She turned to Jade, who settled in the winged chair in front of the window. "And you look stunning as always, Jade."

"Thank you, my dear," Jade replied, folding her hands on her lap. "Have you had a chance to shop yesterday?" she asked, looking at Caroline from head to foot. "You badly need new gowns."

"I already took her to the modiste," replied Ruby.

Caroline frowned at Jade, who looked bothered. "What is the matter, Jade?"

"Nothing."

She turned to Ruby who averted her gaze and said, "Shall we ring for tea?"

"It is already being served," Caroline replied, not taking her eyes off Jade. "Are you not feeling well, Jade?" Would you like a dose of poison? She added in her mind.

The woman's lips thinned. Oh, she did not like Caroline's prodding. "I am fine, Carol."

Caroline shared a look with Ruby, who shrugged and gave her a wink.

Jade took a lungful of air and sighed, looking around the room. The woman was restless. "If you wish to get some air, you may walk around the garden," Caroline offered.

"I said I am fine, Carol," Jade sternly said through her teeth.

"I would love a walk in the garden," Ruby said, jumping to her feet. She reached for Caroline's hand and pulled her toward the door. "Jade, darling, call for us once tea is served," she said to her friend; and to Caroline, she whispered, "Do not mind her. She has moments like this."

"And when do these moments happen and why?"

They soon reached the garden and Ruby let go of Caroline to gaze at a budding flower. "Whenever her flower does not show himself."

It took Caroline a moment to realize that Ruby had answered her question. She could tell that Ruby was tense avoiding her gaze. Are you feeling guilty, Ruby? "Oh," she said instead. "Perhaps she should learn to distract herself. We are not our flowers' priorities."

"Thus, she is here. Distracting herself," Ruby sighed. Turning to face Caroline, she smiled. "I heard you have a flower."

Caroline swallowed the bitter taste on her tongue. "Yes."

"And?"

"He is rather handsome."

"I hope to meet him soon."

"I will introduce you to him once the chance comes up."

"By the by, have you received the invitation for the party in Islefield?"

"Islefield?"

Ruby nodded. "Yes. The Duke of Islefield is throwing a week-long party to celebrate the fiftieth birthday of the duchess."

"The duke is your flower's father."

"Yes, and he knows that his son and I are best of friends." Ruby's gentle smile brightened her face. "Carol, there are many good relationships amongst Belles and their flowers. You ought to see more of them. I will see that Aaron will send you and your flower an invitation."

"Thank you, Ruby."

Ruby winked at her and she noticed the tiny mole under the woman's outer corner of her left eye. "I am doing this because I want you to feel welcomed, Carol."

"That is very thoughtful of you." But can I trust you?

Caroline noticed that Jade tried her best to be in good spirits, but she failed. Even after the two ladies had gone, Caroline could not help but wonder why Trent had not seen Jade yet.

Something happened.

She restlessly paced around her room, biting her nail. She could try to visit him, but she had already done that once. It would be a risk to try it again.

If he was her flower, it would have been — "Of course, Caroline, you bloody idiot," she said under her breath, rushing out of the door and into the small study downstairs.

She scribbled a note.

I would very much appreciate if you can come and visit me tonight.

-Carol

She folded the paper and called for Carrie. "Please, deliver this to the Earl of Chester."

While Carrie was out to deliver the note to Robert, Caroline had to maintain her composure and waited in the parlor.

It had been a week since she last saw Trent. He told her then he had a mission that night. If he had not been out to see Jade, something must have happened without her knowledge.

But surely the Circus would let her know?

Half an hour later, or what seemed like forever, Robert Dior walked into the parlor.

"My lord," she greeted, already on her feet. "Would you like a walk around the garden?"

"I would rather have tea first, thank you," Robert said, sitting down.

She narrowed her eyes at him and he only stared. Impatient, Caroline rang for tea, which Fatima dutifully served.

"Would you like to go to the garden now?" she asked after Robert took three sips.

He carefully replaced his cup on the table. "Since I had to hurry my way here, I believe I earned the right to rest."

Caroline pursed her lips, throwing the open doorway a look. She sighed. She could not talk about Trent with Robert here.

"An invitation to the Islefield ball was sent to me," Robert said. "It is my plan to attend with you."

"Another Belle told me about the ball just this afternoon. I will tell her she need not send me an invitation then."

He nodded, his dark eyes looking at her. Unreadable.

Caroline stood. "I would appreciate it if you walk with me to the garden, Robert. I do not feel well."

"Then mayhap you should rest."

"I feel well enough to want a walk in the garden."

He looked around, then sighed. As he stood, Caroline rushed to the door.

Once far enough from earshot, she whirled around to face him. "How is Trent? How did his mission go?"

"Not well."

Caroline froze. "Who? The mission or Trent?"

"Both."

Her jaw tightened. "And you took your precious time to tell me this?" she hissed.

"I was not given the order to inform you, Carol."

"Do not call me Carol."

"That is the name given to you by Belcourt. I am only trying to fit in the role as your flower."

"Well, do not call me that. Call me anything else." She whirled and walked down the path for a few more steps. He followed behind her, then stopped when she turned and faced him again. "You are not taking your precious time to tell me he is dead, are you?"

Robert Dior blinked. "No."

Caroline sighed with relief. "Then is he injured?"

"Left shoulder."

"Is he healing well?"

"I am not his doctor, my lady."

Caroline closed her eyes to summon the little patience she had left. "Robert," she carefully said, "if you do not tell me anything that will relieve my worry, I will have a sword down your throat."

"You are not capable of—"

"Ellise will do me the honor."

Robert frowned. "Why would she do that? She and I have nothing against each other."

"Then I will do it while you are sleeping. Answer my question now, Robert."

"He is doing well. He is resting. St. Vincent said that he should not go out for a while to avoid suspicion."

"Who attacked him?"

"Them."

"Them who?"

"Who attacked them is the right question."

Caroline growled, closing her hands into fists. "Who attacked them?"

"Soldiers from Belcourt."

She already knew the answer before she even asked, so why did she bother? Was she hoping Belcourt would not have been that smart to know?

"Someone told Belcourt."

"Yes. Apparently."

She brushed a hand over her forehead. "I want to see him."

"It will not heal him."

"I want to see him," she insisted.

"It is too risky."

"I want to see him."

She watched him struggle, his jaw tight as he gave her a hard look. "He is still in Sinclair."

"You told me he is—"

"St. Vincent wanted him and the other two Royals to be monitored closely."

She nodded.

"I can take you there."

"No, you do not have to."

"Then how else do you suppose will you go there without raising suspicion?"

"In case you have forgotten, Robert, Sinclair is a bloody hospital."

"Yes, and a Belle cannot just walk in—"

"And I happen to be injured as well," she interjected. "Now, would you like to finish that tea?" she asked, feeling like she was talking to a bloody child.

"Yes." He stiffly turned to return inside the villa.

Caroline sighed. "I hope that you will learn how to be a little more cooperative, Robert. What we are thrown into requires beneficial partnership."

"I prefer working alone."

"Then you should not have joined the Circus."

He did not answer. Caroline let go of the matter.

Robert Dior would always be Robert Dior, she thought with a helpless shake of her head.

⠒♣◆♣⠒

Sasha stayed inside her carriage and watched Ruby enter the elegant doors of the hotel.

It took quite a long time for the carriage she was waiting for to arrive. A man climbed down, his face shadowed by a bowler hat. The tall collar of his coat hid the lower part of his face.

Leaning back against her seat, Sasha waited until the man's carriage disappeared.

She tapped the roof, and they rolled away from the hotel.

Soon, they were across the street from West's villa.

The candles in his study were lit.

She waited patiently. It could have been an hour, it could have been two.

But he finally stood in front of the window.

It was far, but she knew he was looking at her.

Sasha smiled.

He placed his hands in the pockets of his trousers, head slightly tilted to the side as he stared at her watching him.

Her eyes watered.

Soon, she thought, before she tapped the carriage to go back to Strait.