He was alone now, Boggins had presumably gone to attend to other duties, standing by the window where she had eavesdropped, staring out at the garden she had just walkedthrough. He turned when she entered, and his face lit up with a smile that made her heart crack.
"Lydia." He crossed the room in three strides and took her hands. "I was going to send for you. There's so much I need to tell you; plans I've been making, letters I've written. We're going to fight this, properly this time, with…"
"Stop."
The word came out harder than she intended, and Frederick’s smile faltered.
"What's wrong?"
"I need to talk to you. About us. About everything." She pulled her hands free of his grip, stepping back to put distance between them. "About today."
"Of course. Whatever you need." He gestured toward the sofa. "Shall we sit? I can have Boggins bring tea…"
"I don't want tea. I don't want to sit." She wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly cold despite the fire burning in the grate. "I just need you to listen."
"I'm listening."
She looked at him, taking in every detail. The way his hair fell across his forehead, slightly dishevelled from running his hands through it. The way his cravat was tied with perfect precision, as if he'd taken extra care this morning. The way his eyes, those grey-blue eyes that had first caught her attention at the harvest fair, were watching her with a mixture of love and concern.
He was beautiful. And he was about to sacrifice everything for her.
She couldn't let him.
"I heard you," she said. "Just now. In the garden. You were talking to Boggins about your plans."
His expression; surprise, then a hint of embarrassment. "You heard that?"
"The letter to your aunt. The declaration to the Lords. The bridges you're planning to burn." She forced herself to hold his gaze. "You're going to give up everything. Aren't you?"
"Yes." His voice was steady. "I've thought about it carefully, Lydia. I know what I'm doing."
"Do you? Do you really understand what you're throwing away?"
"I understand exactly what I'm throwing away. And I don't care." He moved toward her, but she stepped back again, maintaining the distance between them. "Lydia, what is amiss? You're behaving like…"
"Like what? Like someone who's realised the truth?" Her voice cracked slightly. "Like someone who's finally understood what Helena was trying to tell me?"
"Helena?" His expression hardened. "What did Helena say to you?"
"She came to the forge. Yesterday. She offered me money to leave you."
"And you refused. Obviously."
"Obviously." Lydia's hands were shaking. She clasped them together to hide the tremor. "But she also said something else. Something I can't stop thinking about."
"What?"
"She said that sometimes the kindest thing you can do for someone is let them go."
Silence.
Frederick stared at her, his face slowly draining of colour.
"Lydia," he said carefully. "What are you saying?"
"I'm saying she's right." The words felt like broken glass in her throat. "I'm saying that I've watched you plan to destroy your entire future for me, and I can't let you do it."
"You can't…" He broke off, shaking his head. "This isn't your decision to make."
