Bound by fire, Claimed by love

Evelyn groaned, burying her face in her hands. "Isabelle, must you always be so dramatic?"

"Absolutely," Isabelle said cheerfully, tucking her legs beneath her. "Someone has to bring excitement to your life."

Evelyn sighed, but she couldn't help the small smile tugging at her lips. Isabelle had always been this way—bold, relentless, and entirely too observant.

"I swear, there is nothing to tell," Evelyn insisted, though even she didn't quite believe her own words.

Isabelle arched a brow. "Oh? So if I asked you why your cheeks are turning red, you'd have a logical explanation?"

Evelyn grabbed a book from the nearby table and pretended to read, ignoring the knowing look her friend was giving her.

"Let me make a guess," Isabelle continued, undeterred. "He caught you off guard, said something unexpectedly sweet, and for a moment—just a moment—you forgot to be stubborn."

Evelyn's fingers tightened on the book.

"Oh, Evelyn," Isabelle sighed, shaking her head. "You're doomed."

Evelyn snapped the book shut and glared at her friend. "I am not doomed."

"Oh, you are," Isabelle said with a grin. "And I, for one, cannot wait to see you realize it."

Before Evelyn could protest, a knock at the door interrupted them.

A maid stepped inside, curtsying. "My lady, Duke Vale requests your presence in the gardens."

Isabelle shot Evelyn a smug look. "And the plot thickens."

Evelyn pressed her lips together, schooling her expression into one of indifference—even as her heart pounded at the thought of facing Damian so soon after last night.

"Don't keep him waiting," Isabelle whispered teasingly. "Who knows? He might be bringing you flowers."

Evelyn rolled her eyes but stood, smoothing out her gown. "I'll be back," she said, ignoring the warmth spreading through her chest.

Isabelle only chuckled. "Oh, I doubt you'll return unchanged."