Evelyn’s POV
The first morning in the Blackwood mansion felt calm and magical.
Sunlight spilled across the room through the tall windows, painting golden streaks across the velvet drapes and polished floors. The air smelled faintly of roses drifting in from the gardens.
For a moment, Evelyn let herself sink fully into the soft mattress, almost forgetting where she was. Almost.
Then the knock came.
“Miss Carter,” a maid’s voice echoed through the door. “Breakfast is served.”
Evelyn dragged herself up, her hair a tangle, her throat dry. She washed up quickly, pulled on a simple blouse and jeans, clothes that looked embarrassingly plain compared to the marble-and-silk world outside her door.
When she stepped into the corridor, her footsteps echoed against high ceilings. Portraits of gr
