The Wolf Who Loved Too Late

Back in my quarters, I dove into sorting the estate's ledgers.

I tallied every account book, inventory key, and land deed, stacking them into neat piles until my fingers ached. Nora, my loyal maid, watched with a pained expression.

"Helena, are you really handing all this over?"

I ran my fingers over the ink-stained pages, my voice calm but firm.

"If I'm leaving, these don't belong to me anymore."

The next morning, Grant strode into the estate just as I stood outside the study, surrounded by crates of ledgers. His brow furrowed. "What's all this?"

I met his gaze evenly. "I'm turning over the estate's management to you, starting today."

His eyes darkened, but before he could respond, Delilah swept in from the veranda, her voice syrupy sweet. "Helena, what's going on? Why're you suddenly stepping away from running the place?"

Her eyes gleamed as she looped her arm through Grant's, her tone turning coy. "Grant, if Helena's tired, maybe. I could give it a shot?"

He glanced at her, then nodded. "Fine."

From that day on, Delilah took full control of the Morgan estate.

She spent recklessly, throwing coin around like it was nothing, and used her new authority to make my life hell. First, she slashed my courtyard's monthly allowance, claiming the estate was " strapped for cash."

Then came the moldy silks and cracked porcelain she sent my way. Eventually, meals started showing up late-or not at all.

Nora's eyes blazed with fury.

"Helena! She's doing this on purpose!"

I pulled out my personal stash of silver and handed it to her. "Go buy some food."

She stomped her foot.

"You're just gonna let her walk all over you?"

I gazed out the window at the swirling snow, my voice soft.

"Not for long. Soon, I'll be free."

But Delilah wasn't done with me.

Three days later, she "fell ill."

Word spread that the grand Morgan estate didn't even have enough coin to buy moonflower for her medicine.

Grant stormed into my courtyard, his voice sharp as a blade.

"How did you manage this place all these years? There's not a dime left in the accounts!"

I'd seen this coming. I handed him the ledgers I'd prepared, my tone steady.

"When I turned over the books, the estate had a surplus of three thousand ounces of silver. If the money's gone, Grant, you should be asking Delilah, not me."

He flipped through the pages, his frown deepening with every line.

Delilah's face paled. She clutched her chest, coughing dramatically, tears pooling in her eyes. "I-I only bought a few trinkets. How could I have spent it all? Helena said the accounts were tight when she handed them over. I've been running myself ragged managing the estate, and now I'm sick because of it. and she's pinning it all on me!"

Grant's expression softened at her tears.

He turned on me, his voice cold.

"You mismanaged the estate and left Delilah to clean up your mess. Now she's sick because of it!"

A sharp pain stabbed my chest, but before I could speak, Nora dropped to her knees.

"General, please! Helena poured her heart into this estate. She checked the shop ledgers even with a fever, made sure everyone was fed during shortages while she went cold herself, and planned your social obligations months in advance. She's never let the Morgan pack down!"

Grant froze, his gaze shifting to me, conflicted.

Delilah, quick to seize the moment, clutched her forehead and moaned. "Grant. I'm dizzy."

He scooped her into his arms, then looked at me.

"Delilah's too frail to handle this. You're taking back the estate duties." He paused, then added, "And get some moonflower for her medicine."

I watched as he carried her off, not sparing me a backward glance.

A bitter laugh escaped me.

I didn't touch the mess of ledgers he'd left behind.

I just sent the moonflower to Delilah's quarters.

But before dawn, my courtyard door crashed open, Grant's fury cutting through the icy air. I'd barely thrown on a cloak when he grabbed my wrist, his grip bruising. "What did you put in the moonflower?

Delilah drank it and passed out!"