"Lydia's. If she'll have me." His voice softened. "I know it's not what my family wanted. I know it's not what society expects. But I've spent thirty years doing what other people wanted, and it's made me miserable. I shall no longer be miserable, Boggins. I want to be happy. And she makes me happy."
"She does, Your Grace. I've seen it."
"Then help me. Help me fight for this. Help me become the kind of man who deserves her."
"You already are that man, Your Grace. You have always been, you simply couldn't see it."
Lydia pressed her hand against the cold stone of the manor wall, her throat tight with unshed tears.
He was going to do it. He was going to burn every bridge, sever every connection, sacrifice everything he had, position, family, future, for her.
And he would do it with joy. With relief. With the fierce determination of a man who had finally found something worth fighting for.
He would give up everything for you.
Helena had been right. She had been absolutely, terrifyingly right.
She walked away from the window.
She walked through the garden, past the bench where Frederick had shared his childhood memories, past the herb beds that Mrs. Chen had probably tended decades ago. She walked until she reached the far edge of the garden, where a low stone wall separated the manor grounds from the fields beyond.
And then she stopped, and she thought.
Frederick was going to sacrifice everything. His position in the Lords, where he could advocate for laws that helped common people. His family connections, such as they were. His reputation, his standing, his future.
All of it. For her.
And she could stop it.
That was the terrible truth that Helena had shown her. She had power here, power she had never asked for, never wanted, but power nonetheless. The power to save Frederick from himself. The power to give him back his future, even if it cost her everything.
Sometimes the kindest thing you can do is let him go.
The words echoed in her mind, and this time, they didn't feel like manipulation. They felt like the truth.
If she stayed, if she let Frederick make this sacrifice, she would be responsible for everything he lost. Every closed door, every whispered insult, every opportunity denied. Every time his children were excluded, every time his influence waned, every time he looked at the life he might have had and wondered if it was worth it.
He would say yes. He would always say yes. But what if he was wrong?
What if, twenty years from now, he woke up and realised that love wasn't enough? That the price had been too high? That he had traded his birthright for a woman who could never truly belong in his world?
You could give him back his future.
She could. It would destroy her, she knew that with absolute certainty, but she could do it. She could walk into that study and tell him it was over. She could make him believe that she didn't want him, didn't love him, had never really loved him at all.
It would be cruel. It would be devastating. But it would also be a gift.
The gift of his future. The gift of his position. The gift of a life unencumbered by scandal and shame.
Is your happiness worth his future?
No. It wasn't. It never had been.
Lydia turned and walked back toward the manor.
***
She found him in the study.
