"If I had taken her, she wouldn't be trapped like she is now." The words burst from me, raw and angry.
"There are things more important than one woman." His voice softens, but the steel in his eyes remains. "Lives depend on retrieving the Swan."
I open my mouth to argue, but Merlin cuts me off with a sharp gesture.
"It's not about family legacy. The Swan is more than a pendant with a flaw." He leans in close, voice dropping to a whisper. "There are engravings on it. Microscopic. Invisible to the naked eye."
My brow furrows. "Engravings? You never mentioned?—"
"Because I wasn't sure you were ready to know." His gaze darts around the room as if checking for unseen listeners. "Those engravings... they're coordinates. Locations of... well, let's just say they're locations that certain very powerful people would kill to know about."
The weight of his words sinks in. "What kind of locations?"
"The less you know right now, the better." He shakes his head. "But trust me when I say that pendant in the wrong hands could destabilize governments and start wars."
I lean back, processing this new information. The Swan was always important—a family heirloom, a reminder of Merlin's lost love.
But this?
This is something else entirely.
"Does Faulks know?" My voice is barely audible.
"I've never been certain, but I always suspected. Too many things don't add up, and the Swan... it's the only thing that explains it all." Merlin's expression darkens.
"So you think Vivianne's father knows what the pendant is?"
"Yes." Heavy with implications. "The Faulks family has always been too well-connected, too strategically positioned. If they know about the Swan's true significance, it explains their obsession with keeping it hidden from the world and guarding their secrets so fiercely. It's more than a bauble. Always has been."
My fists clench at my sides.
The room falls silent as the true weight of what we face settles over me. Suddenly, it's not just about reclaiming a family treasure or righting old wrongs. The stakes have risen exponentially, and Vivianne, unwittingly, is at the center of it all.
The silence stretches between us, thick with decades of shared history and conflicting priorities. Merlin is right, at least in part. But the thought of Vivianne, trapped and alone, overrides everything else.
"And the date of the wedding?" Merlin leans forward. "Has it been announced? Are you certain of the timing?"
"No official announcement yet." I shake my head.
"So how can you be sure?" His eyes sharpen.
I pull out my phone, bringing up the post I've read a thousand times. "Because of this."
I hand him the device, watching as his eyes scan the screen:
Feeling nostalgic today. Remembering that beautiful garden in Paris, with its hidden corners and secret pathways. How I long to walk those grounds again, to feel that sense of freedom and possibility. Perhaps in three months, when the roses are in full bloom? #ParisianDreams #GardenEscapes #CountdownToAdventure
"This could mean anything." Merlin looks up, brow furrowed.
"No." I take the phone back. "The garden in Paris—that's where we truly connected. And three months... it has to be the new wedding date."
"It's thin." A warning in his voice.
"Not so thin. After announcing her engagement to Prescott, the air was thick with whispers about the wedding date. Everyone had a theory, but nothing concrete."
I run a hand through my hair. "Some were saying it's a shotgun wedding, that Vivianne's pregnant. Others swore it would be a long engagement for appearances' sake. But no one knew for sure. The Faulks are keeping it all very hush-hush. But Vivianne made that post with intent. She's telling us when."
"You're putting a lot of faith in a social media post."
