SMOKE AND ROSES

*Chapter One – Shadows in Silk* The night cracked open with the sound of distant cannon fire. Liana stood by the velvet-draped window of her chamber, the silken fabric of her nightdress clinging to her as a breeze slipped in through the half-open pane. The stars above the hills flickered dimly, as though uncertain whether to keep shining. War had arrived in the capital. She had dreamt of this moment — not the fear, not the trembling in her stomach, but the glory. The return of her fiancé, Captain Lucien Moray, on horseback, his uniform torn and heroic. The people cheering. Flags rising. Songs sung. Instead, there was silence. Too much of it. A sudden thud broke her trance. She spun, heart caught in her throat. The balcony door creaked. Then, as if summoned from her fear, a figure climbed over the railing — boots first, then a lean body cloaked in dust and shadows. A soldier. Liana gasped, stumbling back toward the dresser. “Shhh!” the man hissed. “Don’t scream. Please.” His uniform — torn, muddied, and unfamiliar — marked him as the enemy. But it was his eyes that caught her: sharp, calculating, and terribly calm. Not desperate like a fugitive. Not wild like a hunted animal. Cold. Too cold. “I’m unarmed,” he said, raising his hands. “I’m only here because your hills are crawling with gunmen who’d rather shoot than speak.” “You’re a deserter,” she whispered. “Something like that.” Liana’s hands hovered over the drawer where she kept her father’s pistol. The man noticed. “If you’re going to shoot me,” he said, still eerily calm, “at least offer me a chair. I’ve walked twenty miles in boots too small for my dignity.” She hesitated. And that’s when he smiled. Not cruel. Not kind. Just tired. ---