The evening stretched on, but the opulence of the event had lost its sheen for Marianne. The grandiose decor, the laughter of the noble guests, the endless chatter—it all seemed distant. Her thoughts were consumed by the man who had once shared her world, the Duke of Alderson, whom she had not seen for five long years.

  Her eyes would wander, unintentionally, to where Caesar stood across the room. At first, she couldn’t quite understand why it unsettled her so much. It was almost as though she had forgotten how much he had once meant to her, yet now, seeing him as a stranger, it felt like her heart had been caught in a vice, tugged between admiration and sorrow.

  He was talking to a group of noblemen, his posture impeccable, his voice commanding yet calm. There was something in the way he carried himself now—something different. The boyish energy that had once marked him, the carefree youth who had quietly rebelled against his position, had faded. In its place stood a man, someone who had clearly embraced the mantle of his title. The years had refined him, sharpened him. There was no longer any doubt that Caesar was deserving of the title Duke of Alderson. It hung around him like a crown, and the people gathered around him treated him with the respect his title commanded, as though he had always been this person. As though they had never known him as the wild child who had once sought escape in her company.

  For a brief moment, she was struck by how completely he had transformed. His sharp, aristocratic features were more pronounced now, the lines of responsibility etched into his face. His hair, once unruly, was now neatly styled, and his clothes—simple, but of the highest quality—accentuated the powerful figure he had become. His voice, when he spoke, carried authority that had been absent in his youth. Even his posture—proud, almost regal—spoke of a man who had been molded by the weight of leadership.

  And there was a sadness in her chest as she watched him. She had seen him grow up, seen him change from a carefree, mischievous child to a ruler of a powerful duchy. And though she could not deny the pride she felt, she couldn’t ignore the ache that bloomed in her heart at the realization that the boy she had once known had slipped away, replaced by someone she could hardly recognize.

  It wasn’t just the changes to his appearance, though those were striking enough. It was the way the room responded to him now. People didn’t just look at him—they revered him. They hung on his every word, not out of obligation, but because they truly believed in his authority. It was the kind of power that could not be ignored, the kind of presence that could not be denied.

  For a moment, Marianne allowed herself to simply watch him, to feel the full weight of his transformation. She thought back to the quiet moments they had shared as children, when it had just been the two of them, unburdened by the world’s expectations. She had always known he was destined for greatness, but she had never imagined this. Never imagined the person he had become.

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  Her chest tightened. A lump formed in her throat. Pride and sadness collided in a turbulent wave of emotions. She was proud of the man he had become, proud of how he had risen to his responsibilities and become someone who commanded respect. But she was also deeply saddened by the fact that he no longer needed her. She had watched him grow into the Duke, the ruler, the leader of Alderson—and in doing so, she had lost him. The connection they had shared as children, the intimacy of their unspoken bond, was gone, replaced by a distance that felt both physical and emotional.

  And yet, despite all that had happened, despite everything that had come between them, a part of her still longed for the simplicity of their past, when things had been different. When they had been different.

  She looked away from him then, her heart heavy, as the child she tutored tugged at her sleeve. Lord Edmond, bright-eyed and curious, pulled her attention back to the present with an innocent question about the evening's festivities. She smiled gently at the boy, offering a few words of encouragement as he asked about the guests and the food, but her mind was still on Caesar.

  Her thoughts were clouded with the image of him across the room, standing tall among the other nobles. He looked every bit the Duke now, every bit the man he was meant to be. But was that enough? Was he truly happy in the life he had built, in the role he had assumed?

  A soft sigh escaped her lips as she turned her focus back to the boy, giving him her full attention, but even then, her mind kept drifting back to him.

  Marianne hadn’t wanted to leave. That was the truth she had buried deep within her. But it had been the only choice she had made for herself, the only way to keep her heart from shattering under the weight of her feelings. Caesar had needed to grow without her. He had needed to become the Duke. She had needed to find her own way in a world that no longer had a place for her beside him.

  But even now, after all this time, it was hard to silence the small, wistful voice inside her that wished for a different path. For a world where she could have stayed by his side—where they could have built something together.

  She looked at him once more, this time with a clearer eye, and saw him as he truly was: the Duke of Alderson. He was everything the title demanded and more. She was proud of him, proud that he had risen to the greatness he was always meant for, but she also mourned the loss of the young man she had once known.

  As the night carried on, she found herself standing on the edge of the ballroom, quietly watching the man she had once known. And for the first time in years, Marianne truly wondered if she would ever be able to let her selfish feelings go.