“But,” Elowen’s voice shifted, gaining a light, amused tone, “I came up with a little business venture with the shopkeeper…”
She described it in detail.
By the end, she chuckled softly. “It was just a bangle. It wasn’t worth more than thirty, fifty at most if someone’s feeling generous. Two hundred? Three hundred? That’s just idiotic. Money doesn’t grow on trees.”
Cassian smiled to himself in the dark. She hated being cheated.
After she finished, she lay quietly for a while, then reached up to feel her hair-mostly dry now. She sat up and, as usual, started to move to the inner side of the bed to sleep.
As she passed Cassian, her loose hair brushed lightly across his face. Soft and scented, it tickled his skin-and, somehow, his chest.
His breath hitched. Elowen lay down again, but something felt unusually warm.
“Did the temperature rise?” she mumbled.
She sat up, glancing over.
Cassian lay under a thin brocade coverlet. The weather had indeed warmed, and she thought perhaps it was better to pull the blanket down a bit, so he wouldn’t sweat too much and develop a rash.
With that in mind, she gently tugged the quilt down to his waist. And then, her gaze dropped.
Under the soft glow of moonlight and candlelight, a noticeable bulge was very… apparent.
She blinked. “What’s that? A rash? A really big bump?”
Cassian was speechless. What kind of military household doesn’t teach basic anatomy?
Elowen, curious, poked it twice.
Cassian was about to lose it. Still unaware, she tugged the blanket a bit farther, pulling open his tunic. A loud gasp tore through the room.
As if she’d stumbled upon a viper or some feral beast.
Flustered, Elowen scrambled to pull the blanket back over him. Her cheeks flushed crimson, heart pounding in her chest. She sat frozen for several moments, unable to move or look at Cassian-or at that spot.
The image, unfortunately, was now etched deeply into her memory. Eventually, she lay back down, but this time far from him, facing away, her back rigid.
Cassian found the whole thing equal parts amusing and exasperating. Was it really that shocking? Didn’t all men have one?
When he recovered fully, someone ought to teach her properly.
No. He would teach her.
Elowen had a nightmare that night. In it, she happily went to the market, only to find all the stalls filled with massive, monstrous mushrooms. Towering, grotesque, absolutely terrifying.
She turned and ran, but she tripped. Looked down-another mushroom.
When she woke the next morning and looked in the mirror, there were two dark circles under her eyes.
Mira came in to help with her hair, chattering as always. “Your Grace, the old man from the village brought vegetables this morning. I heard the mushrooms are especially fresh. Some of them are huge! Shall I have the kitchen cook some for lunch?”
Mira loved mushrooms.
Elowen used to like them, too, but after last night, she realized maybe not so much anymore.
Elowen didn’t even hesitate. “No!”
Mira blinked. “Why not?”
Elowen pinched her fingers together, frowning. “I hate mushrooms. Especially the big ones.”
Mira replied, “…eh?” Since when?
Just then, Bran called from outside the room, “Your Grace. The palace sent someone.”
Elowen looked toward the door. “Who?”
“His Highness.”
She froze. Bran added, “Word reached the palace that His Grace stirred. His Majesty is concerned, so he sent His Highness to check on him.”
Elowen nodded slowly. In her past life, when Cassian had awakened, Alaric had come to Duskmoor Manor, too.
Although Cassian hadn’t fully regained consciousness this time, the palace always had ways of knowing. Whatever needed to be known, His Majesty would know first.
It was natural that Alaric had been sent.
“Have His Highness received in the front hall?” Elowen said.
“Yes, Your Grace.”
She turned to Mira. “Let’s finish dressing.”
Mira hesitated. She’d grown up beside Elowen and knew all about her past with Alaric. Tentatively, she asked, “Your Grace… maybe skip the lip color today? It might look like you’re trying to impress His Highness…”
Elowen smiled. “Silly Mira. Avoiding something just to prove I’m not trying to impress him is still a form of catering to him. We don’t owe His Highness anything. However, we normally dress, that’s how we’ll dress today. Let’s make it beautiful.”
Mira wasn’t quite sure she understood, but nodded anyway. Half an hour later, they reached the front hall. Alaric had been waiting for some time.
He sat perfectly composed in his chair, a cup of water at his side, mostly gone cold. When he looked up and saw her, his eyes flickered with unmistakable admiration.
Elowen wore a deep red gown of fine fabric, its lines simple and restrained. Her hair was set in a neat coiled twist, her neckline modestly cut and edged with subtle embroidery. She looked composed and refined, her beauty quiet rather than bold.
Alaric narrowed his eyes, a slow, mocking smile tugging at his lips. “Married to my uncle now, and still playing games. Dressing like this-trying to make Duskmoor Manor a laughingstock?”
Elowen raised an eyebrow. “Your Highness, what do you mean by that?” He snorted. “I came to see my uncle, not you. There was no need for you to dress up.”
“You think I dressed like this for you?”
“Didn’t you?”
Her gaze cooled. “No wonder Her Majesty is in such a rush to find you a wife. You’re sorely lacking in manners.”
Alaric’s brow furrowed. “You’re lecturing me now?”
“I am the Duchess of Duskmoor. I represent this household. Whether you visit or not, I present myself accordingly. Don’t say things like this in front of others. It only reflects poorly on Her Majesty’s guidance.”
For a moment, Alaric genuinely felt as if he were the one being scolded by an elder. And Elowen was younger than him!
He clenched his jaw, about to retort, but she had already moved on. “Your uncle woke briefly. He is not fully recovered.”
Still fuming, Alaric’s tone was sharp. “And you’re sure?”
She replied calmly, “We share a bed. Why wouldn’t I be sure?”
Alaric froze. “You sleep beside him? Even while he’s unconscious?”
Elowen looked puzzled. “He’s my husband. Why wouldn’t I?”
He was silent for a moment. Then relaxed. She was bluffing. She liked him too much to really share a bed with another man. She was just trying to provoke him.
Well, he wasn’t going to let her get away with it.
“I want to see him,” he said deliberately. Elowen frowned slightly. “He’s resting. It would be rude to disturb him.”
Cassian, once so proud and untouchable, now pale and thin. She imagined he wouldn’t want others to see him in this state.
That was her reasoning. But in Alaric’s ears, it sounded like an excuse. Proof that she was lying about sharing his bed.
“His Majesty sent me,” Alaric said flatly. “If you stop me, you’re stopping His Majesty. Are you hiding something?”
After a moment of consideration, Elowen relented. “If it’s His Majesty’s will… then let’s go pay our respects.”
They walked to the courtyard.
As soon as they entered, Alaric’s sharp eyes spotted the vanity and side bed tucked into the antechamber. He paused.
Elowen turned, following his gaze. That had been arranged on their wedding night. She hadn’t had time to take it down.
Before she could explain, Alaric chuckled coldly. “Fooling others is one thing. But don’t fool yourself.”
“I’ve never slept there,” she said quickly.
More Kickass Romance Reads
Dive into irresistible romance stories packed with possessive heroes, forbidden passion, billionaire obsession, mafia intrigue, and heart-stopping twists. One chapter is never enough—your next addiction starts here.