Adrian stood at the window of his private study, looking out over the Imperial Pace gardens where courtiers strolled through carefully manicured hedges. Three years ago, he would have been among them, performing the tedious dance of court politics with practiced ease. Now, he found it difficult to muster patience for such frivolities.

  The war had changed him. The eastern provinces had changed him. And now, he hoped to change the Empire.

  He repyed yesterday's audience in his mind. Lady Rosalind standing before him and his father, her posture confident yet unassuming. So different from the calcuted poise she had once dispyed at court. Her surprise when he proposed not a traditional royal match, but a partnership. The way her hand had gone to that curious wooden pendant when he mentioned her work at Thornfield.

  "Three days," his father had granted her to consider the proposal. Three days until the Midsummer Ball, where her answer would shape the future of his pns for the Empire.

  Lord Chancellor Bckwood entered with a slight bow, interrupting his thoughts.

  "Your Highness, the reports you requested from the northern provinces have arrived."

  "Thank you, Lord Chancellor. Pce them on my desk, please."

  As the door closed, Adrian returned to his desk where maps of the eastern provinces y spread across polished mahogany. Red markers indicated the vilges hardest hit by the field fever epidemic. Blue markers showed areas where crop failures had led to food shortages. Yellow markers designated communities implementing agricultural innovations—with Thornfield Estate prominently marked.

  He traced his finger over Thornfield's location on the map. When he'd first received the reports of Lady Rosalind's work there, he had been intrigued but skeptical. The spoiled, maniputive young woman he remembered from court seemed an unlikely candidate for rural leadership. Yet report after report confirmed her transformation.

  Adrian's mind drifted back to the moment in the throne room when he'd first id eyes on her again. Gone was the overly adorned court beauty with practiced smiles and calcuted gestures. In her pce stood a woman with clear eyes, practical attire, and a directness of manner that had become rare in court circles. She wore her hair simply, her only adornment a curious wooden pendant.

  The wooden pendant. He'd noticed how her fingers went to it when he mentioned Lieutenant Brookfield's agricultural innovations, and again when he spoke of community resilience during crises. There was a story there—one he hoped she might eventually share with him.

  He moved to a side table where a gss dome protected a small dispy: a pressed wheat stalk, a pamphlet on drainage systems, and a handwritten report on crop rotation. All from Thornfield. All credited to Lady Rosalind and Lieutenant Thomas Brookfield.

  "Your Highness?"

  Adrian turned to find his aide, Captain Lewis, at the door.

  "Your meeting with the Agricultural Council begins in ten minutes, and the eastern province governors have arrived early."

  "Thank you, Captain. I'll be there momentarily."

  When the door closed again, Adrian straightened his uniform jacket and composed himself. The ministers would expect him to focus solely on statistics and resources, but his mind kept returning to Rosalind Harrington—the woman who had accomplished in a remote northern estate what his councilors cimed was impossible without imperial intervention.

  The next morning, Adrian rode out early, dismissing his usual entourage save for Captain Lewis. Dawn painted the Imperial City in soft gold as they made their way through the gradually awakening streets toward the experimental fields at the edge of the city.

  "You're quiet this morning, Your Highness," Captain Lewis observed as they rode.

  "I'm considering contingencies," Adrian replied.

  "For the agricultural program? Or for Lady Rosalind's answer?"

  Adrian smiled slightly at his captain's directness. Lewis had been with him throughout the eastern campaign, had seen the same devastation, had helped develop the emergency response that bypassed imperial bureaucracy to deliver aid directly to affected communities.

  "Both," Adrian admitted. "The two have become intertwined in my mind."

  They arrived at the experimental fields where Professor Halford waited to show them the progress of new wheat varieties being developed for drought resistance. The professor unched into a detailed expnation of their breeding program as they walked between the test plots.

  "Impressive work, Professor," Adrian said when the older man paused for breath. "But I wonder—have you considered incorporating the companion pnting methods documented in the Thornfield reports?"

  Professor Halford blinked. "Companion pnting, Your Highness? That's peasant folklore, hardly scientific—"

  "And yet," Adrian interrupted gently, "the Thornfield yields exceeded imperial averages by seventeen percent during st year's drought. Their soil retention methods prevented the erosion we saw throughout the northern provinces."

  "Those results haven't been verified by imperial standards," the professor protested.

  "I've seen the results myself," Captain Lewis interjected. "During my inspection tour of the northern estates."

  The professor appeared flustered. "Well, yes, but—implementing such methods at scale would require significant changes to our agricultural education system."

  "Precisely," Adrian said, his eyes lighting with intensity. "Which is why I've been so interested in the agricultural school established at Thornfield. A model that could be replicated throughout the provinces."

  As they continued their tour, Adrian found his thoughts straying again to Rosalind. How different it would be to discuss these matters with someone who understood both the practical realities of the nd and the complexities of imperial politics. Someone who had moved between these worlds. Someone who had proven herself capable of seeing beyond tradition when necessary.

  That afternoon, Adrian received two visitors in his private audience chamber. Lord Harrington—the Duke—arrived precisely on time, his bearing formal but his expression less severe than Adrian remembered from court functions past.

  "Your Highness," the Duke said with a bow. "I appreciate your willingness to meet privately."

  "Of course, Lord Harrington. Please, be seated." Adrian gestured to the chair across from him.

  Once they were settled, the Duke spoke directly. "I wish to understand your intentions regarding my daughter."

  Adrian met the older man's gaze evenly. "I believe I made them clear in our previous discussion. I wish to marry Lady Rosalind and make her my Imperial Consort."

  "Yes," the Duke said carefully. "But I find myself... curious about the suddenness of this decision. Three years ago, you showed no interest in Rosalind. In fact, you seemed quite determined to avoid her attention."

  Adrian couldn't help but smile slightly. "We both know Lady Rosalind was a different person then."

  "Indeed." The Duke's expression softened almost imperceptibly. "She was."

  "As was I," Adrian added. "The war changed many things."

  The Duke studied him for a long moment. "You're aware that she formed an... attachment during her time at Thornfield."

  "To Lieutenant Brookfield. Yes."

  "And that doesn't concern you?"

  Adrian considered his words carefully. "I would think less of her if she hadn't been affected by his loss. By all accounts, Lieutenant Brookfield was an exceptional man."

  Something in the Duke's expression shifted—a hint of approval, perhaps.

  "What I'm proposing to your daughter isn't a love match, Lord Harrington. At least, not in the traditional sense. What I'm offering is a partnership built on shared purpose." Adrian leaned forward. "I've read every report from Thornfield. I've studied the agricultural school curriculum she developed with Lieutenant Brookfield. I've seen how she managed the crisis when field fever reached the northern provinces. These accomplishments speak to a woman of extraordinary capability. The Empire needs such capability now more than ever."

  The Duke seemed to weigh these words carefully before responding. "And if she refuses?"

  "Then I will be disappointed but not deterred in my broader aims. The agricultural reforms will proceed, though likely more slowly without her insights." Adrian paused. "And I would hope that Lady Rosalind would be allowed to continue her work at Thornfield, should that be her preference."

  The Duke raised an eyebrow. "You would not compel her return to court?"

  "What would be gained by forcing someone of her talents into a role she doesn't wish to fill?" Adrian responded. "The Empire has wasted enough potential through rigid adherence to tradition."

  After a moment, the Duke inclined his head. "I believe I understand your position more clearly now, Your Highness." He rose. "Thank you for your candor."

  As the Duke departed, Adrian had little time to reflect on their conversation before Captain Lewis announced his second visitor: "Lady Sophia Bckwood, Your Highness."

  Adrian smiled genuinely as Sophia entered, her quiet grace a familiar comfort after years of friendship. They had maintained their pretense of courtship long enough to deflect unwanted attention, but had eventually allowed the connection to be seen for what it truly was—a deep friendship between kindred spirits.

  "Adrian," she said warmly once they were alone. "I've just heard the most fascinating rumor."

  "Only one?" he replied with a raised eyebrow. "The court must be growing dull."

  Sophia ughed lightly as she took the seat the Duke had vacated. "Is it true? Are you really intending to marry Rosalind Harrington?"

  "Ah. That rumor." Adrian sighed. "Yes, I've made the proposal. Though she hasn't yet accepted."

  Sophia's expression turned serious. "The same Rosalind who once tried to push me into a fountain?"

  "The same woman who ter prevented a dam colpse that would have destroyed three vilges," Adrian countered. "People change, Sophia."

  "Evidently." She studied him with shrewd eyes. "This isn't just about agricultural reform, is it?"

  Adrian rose and walked to the window, watching a flock of birds wheel above the pace spires. "You know what I saw in the east. You know what I'm trying to prevent from happening again." He turned back to her. "The Imperial Council is resistant to change. The ministers are entrenched in their ways. I need someone who understands both worlds—court politics and practical realities."

  "And you believe Rosalind is that person?"

  "I believe she could be." Adrian's voice grew quiet. "You should read her reports, Sophia. See the systems she implemented. The way she banced immediate needs with long-term pnning during the fever outbreak." He shook his head, admiration evident in his tone. "The ministers told me such approaches were impractical, idealistic. Yet she proved them possible."

  Sophia watched him carefully. "You admire her."

  "I admire what she's accomplished."

  "There's a difference," Sophia pointed out gently.

  Adrian nodded. "Yes. There is." He returned to his seat. "When I saw her yesterday, I expected to find a woman pying at reform—another noble who'd discovered charity as a pastime. Instead, I found someone transformed by genuine purpose." He met Sophia's gaze. "You of all people know how rare that is in our circles."

  Sophia's expression softened. "I do." After a thoughtful moment, she added, "So you're truly prepared to build a marriage on shared policy goals rather than affection?"

  "Not instead of affection," Adrian corrected. "But perhaps as its foundation."

  Something in his tone made Sophia smile. "I see." She rose gracefully. "Then I hope, for both your sakes, that she accepts."

  After Sophia left, Adrian returned to his maps and reports, but found his concentration cking. Outside, the sun was setting, painting the Imperial City in shades of amber and gold. Somewhere in that city, Rosalind Harrington was considering his proposal—weighing a return to court life against the freedom she'd found at Thornfield.

  He hoped she would see what he had begun to envision: not a return to her old life, but the creation of something entirely new. A partnership that could transform not just agricultural policies but the very retionship between the crown and its people.

  Adrian looked again at the wooden pendant dispyed under gss. Captain Lewis had described seeing Lady Rosalind touch a simir pendant when speaking of Lieutenant Brookfield's memory. A talisman of sorts, connecting her to the man who had helped her find purpose in exile.

  Adrian wondered, not for the first time, what kind of man Thomas Brookfield had been to inspire such loyalty, such transformation in a duke's daughter. And he wondered if the vision they had begun together at Thornfield might be strong enough to bring Rosalind back to court—not as the girl who had left in disgrace, but as the woman who had found her calling in the most unexpected of pces.