The Maybach ate up highway miles.
Rachel didn't look at her phone once. The privacy glass was up, and she finally spoke. "Your father's investiture is next week. We're arriving early so the staff can prepare properly. The last thing Delaware needs is a rushed ceremony."
Luna stared out the window. Harrington was already two states behind them. No goodbye to her room. No goodbye to the lake by campus. Dad had their stuff shipped, Rachel said. That was it.
Meribel folded her hands. "Is the piano already there?"
"Moved yesterday," Rachel said. "You'll want to practice before the reception. People will be watching."
Luna snorted. "Of course there's a reception."
Rachel ignored her.
Five hours later the gates said _Percival Residence_ in iron scroll. The estate wasn't a house. It was a _seat_. Stone, ivy-covered, three wings, with a private lake behind the east lawn. Staff lined the drive like they'd been rehearsing all week.
And in front of them, Duke Percival waited. Alone.
He wasn't cold like Rachel. He wasn't "Your Grace" to his daughters. He was Dad. Broad-shouldered, military haircut going gray, eyes that crinkled when he smiled.
He hugged Meribel first, formal. "Lady Meribel. Your mother says you impressed Her Majesty."
Meribel glowed. "Thank you, Fa—" She caught herself, straightened, and dropped into a perfect curtsy. "Thank you, Your Grace."
Rachel's eyes flicked to her, but she said nothing. The correction had been instant.
Then he turned to Luna and just opened his arms. No title. "There's my troublemaker."
Luna launched into him. "Dad."
He squeezed her hard, kissing the top of her head. "Heard you terrorized Highmere Palace. Good. Keeps them awake."
Rachel's mouth thinned. "Edmund. Benjamin?"
"Still at college," Dad said. "Finals week. He'll be home for the ceremony. Pulled strings to get him out a day early."
Rachel's lips pursed, but she nodded. Education came first, even for heirs. "Very well."
That's why Luna was the way she was. Rachel raised heirs. Dad raised children. And Luna was the youngest — the one he doted on, spoiled rotten when Rachel wasn't looking. He'd taught her to fish, to curse in French, to strip a carburetor. Meribel got piano lessons and expectations. Luna got Dad, and bruised knees, and no curtsy lessons unless Rachel was watching.
Benjamin got the weight, even from college. The heir's seat was always waiting. But he also got Luna's scraped elbows, and Meribel's panicked looks across the dinner table. When he was home, he covered for both of them.
The housekeeper, Mrs. Atwood, gave them a tour. Meribel catalogued room names and painters. Luna clocked exits, WiFi routers, and the fastest path to the lake.
---
A week later, Percival House was unrecognizable.
Benjamin arrived the evening before the ceremony, duffel bag over his shoulder, still in his college blazer. He dropped the bag, hugged Dad, nodded to Rachel, ruffled Luna's hair, and then vanished into Dad's study with a stack of seating charts.
By morning, he looked like he'd been running the place for years.
Cars with crests lined the drive. Liveried staff. Dukes, earls, counts, all of Delaware's peerage plus half the capital's. Banners hung in the great hall: the Percival stag below the royal dragon.
The ceremony was in the morning. No coronet, no sword — Dad signed the letters patent, the King's courier read the proclamation, applause. Just like that: Percival, Duke of Delaware. Benjamin stood behind Dad's right shoulder through it. Heir apparent, back from college and already on duty.
Prince Cassian attended as Crown Prince. He stood beside the courier, bored and perfect in a dark suit. No crown, but everyone bowed anyway. He was eighteen, tall, dark hair. Luna didn't recognize him. She'd never seen him before. The boy from the study had been younger. Shorter. Meaner.
She stayed out of everyone's line of sight.
After, the reception took over the gardens. String quartet. Champagne for adults, lemonade for "the young ladies." Luna's friends had come — Eva, Harper, and Lily's parents were minor gentry, invited for numbers.
Rachel made Meribel play.
"Meribel will honor us with Chopin's Nocturne in E-flat," she announced to a cluster of duchesses. "It's time Delaware heard her."
Meribel sat at the grand piano they'd rolled onto the terrace, hands shaking once, then perfect. She played beautifully. The dukes clapped. The eligible sons watched.
Then Rachel took her arm. "Come, darling. Lady Westmere wants to introduce you to her son."
Rachel's smile didn't reach her eyes. It never did when she was working.
Meribel was swept into the crowd, Rachel at her elbow, parading her from duchess to countess to baron's wife. She didn't see the lake. Didn't see Luna slip away. That was the point. Her job was to be seen, and approved of.
Luna did nothing. She wasn't asked. She was still "the child." She wouldn't have anyway.
Instead, she grabbed Eva's hand. "Lake. Now."
"Luna, we're in tights," Lily hissed.
"So take them off," Luna said. "It's our house now."
Harper adjusted her glasses. "Okay, but if your mom catches us, I'm blaming you. I have a calculus test to retake and I can't do it from a dungeon."
They snuck down to the private lake behind the east lawn, kicked off shoes, and waded in up to their knees. It was freezing. It was perfect. For ten minutes, Harrington didn't exist and Avaloria didn't exist.
Luna splashed Eva. Eva shrieked. Harper timed the splash radius and muttered "noted" under her breath. Lily tried to mediate.
Then Luna spun, arms wide, and sent an arc of lake water flying—
Straight into a dark suit.
Prince Cassian stood at the edge of the lawn. He'd taken his jacket off, tie loosened, clearly escaping the duchesses for air. Now his white shirt was transparent and dripping.
Silence.
Eva, Harper, and Lily froze like deer.
Luna's blood went cold. "Oh. Oh god."
She scrambled out of the lake, soaking wet, tights ruined. "Your— Your Highness. I'm so sorry. I didn't see you. I'm—"
Cassian looked down at his shirt. Then at her. No recognition. He'd never seen her before in his life.
His jaw worked. Then, to everyone's shock, he laughed. One short, startled laugh — not unkind.
"It's water," he said. "Not poison." He flicked a drop off his sleeve, unbothered.
"I can pay for dry cleaning," Luna babbled. "Or, like, my dad can. Or the duchy. I don't know how this works. I'm so sorry—"
"Lady…" He paused, waiting.
"Luna. Lady Luna Percival."
"Lady Luna," he said, amused now. "Stop apologizing. It was an accident."
"You're not mad?"
"I've been called worse than wet." He glanced at her friends, still frozen. "Enjoy your lake. Just… maybe check your perimeter next time."
Footsteps behind him. Benjamin appeared at Cassian's side. He'd been with Dad and the other dukes, but he moved the second he saw Cassian dripping from across the lawn. College hadn't dulled his instincts. He was already reading a room like a general.
His eyes went straight to Luna first. She was white, terrified, waiting for Rachel to materialize and end her.
Benjamin turned to Cassian and bowed, shallow but correct. "Your Highness. My apologies for my sister. She has no sense of self-preservation." His tone was light, taking the blame before anyone else could place it.
Cassian waved it off. "She's fine."
"Still," Benjamin said. Then, quieter, meant only for Cassian, "Please excuse her. It's on me."
He shifted, putting himself slightly between Cassian and Luna. Then he caught Luna's eye and gave her one quick, almost invisible nod. _I've got it. Breathe._
To Cassian, he said, "There's spare clothes in the blue guest room. If you'll follow me, sir."
Cassian nodded, still entertained. "Lead the way."
Benjamin led him toward the house. Before they were out of earshot, he murmured to Luna, low and just for her: "Go change. Dad won't care. I'll handle Mom."
Cassian glanced back once at Luna, sopping wet on the bank, and shook his head with a half-smile.
Up on the terrace, Meribel laughed at something Lady Westmere's son said, Rachel beaming beside her. She hadn't seen any of it. She couldn't. She was busy being perfect and available.
Rachel would kill her.
Dad would laugh.
Benjamin would take the hit.
And somewhere in Highmere, the actual boy from the study probably hadn't even been invited.
Luna didn't know which was worse.