“Happy birthday, darling!"
Fiona's voice rang out as Draven stepped into the ballroom, now dripping in gold and white streamers. Fireflies trapped in crystal lanterns flickered overhead.
He frowned. “Did you choose the decorations?"
“I supervised the whole thing." She leaned in. “Impressed?"
He looked past her. “Where's Sepharine?"
Fiona blinked. “The maid?"
“My—" He stopped. “Where is she?"
“Oh. Didn't anyone tell you? She's… gone."
“Gone?"
Lady Walfson appeared at his side, voice smooth. “She left this morning. Said she needed new horizons. Don't worry—she was well compensated."
Draven's chest tightened. “You let her leave without telling me?"
“She insisted."
He turned sharply. “And you just agreed?"
“She handed in her resignation," his mother replied. “With dignity. We hono
