"Magnificent," she breathed, advancing with reverent steps.
She passed through what must have once been the main gate, its arch still intact though missing many stones. Within the fallen walls, nature had established a new order—wildflowers grew from cracks in the flagstones, and birds nested in the remains of window openings. June touched a wall, her fingers tracing the rough texture of stone that had witnessed centuries of Blake family history.
She spotted markings on one partially intact wall and moved closer, her curiosity piqued. Upon inspection, they proved to be carvings—a family crest, perhaps, though time had blurred itsdetails beyond recognition. Below it, what appeared to be Latin text remained partially visible.
"Ad astra per aspera," she read aloud, translating automatically. "To the stars through difficulty." An apt motto for the Blake family, given what she knew of their history.
June moved deeper into the ruins, stepping carefully over fallen debris. What stories these stones could tell if they could speak! Weddings and births, deaths and betrayals—the entire tapestry of a noble family's existence, now reduced to this silent testament of mortality.
Not unlike Dominic's conviction about his own mortality, she thought, frowning slightly.So certain he's doomed to die young, yet so very alive in every moment.
A stone staircase, partially intact, caught her attention. It curved upward along what remained of a tower wall, leading to a section of battlement that still stood. The promise of a better vantage point was too tempting to resist. June gathered her skirts in one hand and began to climb, testing each step before committing her weight.
The staircase creaked ominously beneath her, but held. When she reached the top, June was rewarded with a breathtaking view—Icemere Castle in the distance, its windows catching the last rays of sunlight, and beyond it, the wild beauty of the Yorkshire moors stretching toward the horizon.
"Worth every precarious step," she said, turning slowly to take in the panorama.
A sudden gust of wind caught her cloak, billowing it outward. June steadied herself against what remained of a merlon, the square projection along the battlement. The stone felt cool beneath her palm, solid despite its age. She moved along the battlement, mindful of her footing on the ancient stones.
From this height, she could make out the original layout of the castle—the central keep, the perimeter walls, what must have been gardens or training yards. The academic in her longed for paper and pencil to sketch it all before time erased even more.
"Dominic must see this," she murmured, making mental notes to share with him.
As she stepped closer to the edge for a better look at the former courtyard, a terrible groan emanated from beneath her feet. June froze, her heart hammering against her ribs. For a moment, nothing happened, and she began to think she'd imagined it.
Then came a cracking sound, like ice breaking on a pond.
"Oh no," she whispered, realizing her danger too late.
The stones beneath her feet shifted, then gave way entirely. June screamed as the world collapsed around her, her body plummeting downward in a shower of ancient masonry. The fallseemed to last both an eternity and no time at all before she crashed onto a hard surface below, pain blooming in her side.
Dust filled the air, choking her. When she could breathe again, June found herself in near darkness, trapped in what appeared to be a partially collapsed chamber. The only light filtered through gaps in the stones above where the battlement had been.
"Help!" she called, though she knew it was futile. The ruins were too far from the castle for anyone to hear.
June shifted and slowly gained her feet. No sprains. She sighed with relief, but her left rib ached fiercely where she'd struck it during the fall. She blinked to adjust her eyes to the dimness.
The chamber was small, what remained of it. Part of the ceiling had fallen in but the rest of the structure seemed intact, if unstable. June scanned her surroundings, looking for a way out.
A narrow opening in one wall might have been a doorway once. If she could reach it, perhaps she could find her way back outside. She moved as carefully as possible across the debris-strewn floor.
A small cascade of pebbles and dust showered down from above. June froze, looking up in alarm. The remaining ceiling groaned ominously.
"Not good," she muttered, resuming her cautious movement. "Not good at all."
She was halfway to the doorway when a larger stone tumbled down, missing her by inches. The impact sent more dust into the air and caused another, even louder groan from the structure around her.
June's heart raced as realization settled over her. Any significant movement might bring down what remained of the ceiling. She was trapped, injured, and alone as daylight faded. No one knew where she was. No one would miss her until dinner, hours from now.
Dominic rubbed his eyes, the figures in the estate ledgers blurring after hours of scrutiny. The study had grown dim, and he placed his quill in its holder and stretched, his back protesting the hours spent bent over his desk.
June would be waiting for tea, he realized with a smile that transformed his features from tired duke to eager husband. It had become their ritual in these first weeks at Icemere—sharing tea before dinner, trading observations about their day, debating some obscure historical point she'd discovered in his library. He rose, anticipation quickening his steps as he left the study. Finding June had become his favorite part of each day.
The drawing room stood empty, the tea service laid out but untouched. Dominic checked his pocket watch—half past four,their usual time. Perhaps she'd lost track of the hour in the library. It wouldn't be the first time he'd found her surrounded by ancient tomes, oblivious to the passage of time.
"Your Grace," a housemaid curtseyed as she passed with fresh linens.
"Have you seen the Duchess?" he asked, maintaining a casual tone.
