The next day,

Author

Lady Selene's garden was designed to trap people.

Walled hedges trimmed to mathematical precision. Pathways that circled back on themselves. Benches placed at intervals calculated to encourage confession.

Aria recognized the architecture of interrogation disguised as hospitality. She had designed similar spaces in her previous life, rooms where targets relaxed into false security before the questions began.

She sat on a stone bench that offered sightlines to all three entrances, her back straight, her hands resting on her thighs in a posture that was relaxed without being vulnerable.

She wore black. Not the tactical gear of her profession, but a fitted dress that allowed full range...