I WILL BURN THE WORLD TO CLAIM MY THRONE. I am a Baron with the blood of kings and the heart of a traitor. My ledgers are ash. My secrets are treason. When the Crown's hound arrived at my gates, I needed a distraction. I found it in a woman with a silver needle and a shy gaze. Reba Rothschild was a commoner, a ghost in the halls of Chatsworth. Now, she is my weapon. I moved her from the servants' quarters to the rooms beside mine. I replaced her rags with silk and her freedom with my command. Every morning, I lace her corset myself. I pull the strings. I bind her to my will. She is no longer a seamstress. She is my property, a gilded shield against the men who want my head on a pike. The storm outside is nothing compared to the fire in my blood. I will take her innocence on the very desk where I plot my rebellion. I will mark her as mine.