Nathaniel immediately stepped forward. "Genevieve."
She did not answer right away. Her eyes glistened slightly—not with tears, with disappointment, the kind that cuts deeper.
"What happened?" Charles asked gently.
Genevieve laughed once; the sound contained no humor. "Apparently, I ask too many questions."
Silence followed.
"That is what he said?" Nathaniel asked.
She nodded. "According to my father, some matters should remain in the past."
The words struck Nathaniel like a warning bell. "And the bridge?"
Genevieve stared toward the far end of the corridor. "He refused to discuss it."
"Why?" Charles asked.
Genevieve looked down. "Because reopening old wounds helps no one."
The statement hung heavily in the air. Nathaniel felt anger rising—not because Lord Carter avoided the conversation, but because Genevieve looked genuinely hurt. She had approached him seeking truth, perhaps even understanding; instead, she received dismissal again.
Later that evening, Genevieve wandered alone through the gardens. Nathaniel found her near the fountain where they had spoken weeks earlier. Summer was beginning to surrender to early autumn: leaves drifted across stone pathways; the air carried a slight chill.
"You should not be alone."
Genevieve smiled faintly. "Everyone keeps saying that."
Nathaniel sat beside her. For several moments, neither spoke; the silence felt comfortable, familiar.
Finally, Genevieve sighed. "Do you ever realize that someone has disappointed you for so long that it stops feeling surprising?"
Nathaniel looked toward the fountain. "Yes."
She nodded slowly. "I think that happened today." The sadness in her voice felt heavier than any tears could have been.
Nathaniel wanted to tell her the truth—not about the bridge, about himself, about everything. Instead, he remained silent because every instinct warned him the timing was wrong: Genevieve deserved one betrayal less, not one more.
"You deserve better," he said quietly.
She laughed softly. "Charles said the same thing."
The mention of Charles brought an uncomfortable sensation. Genevieve noticed immediately. To Nathaniel's horror, she smiled—a genuine smile.