Bran replied honestly, “My father served in the royal guard. Not long after I was born, I was brought into the palace. For as long as I can remember, I’ve always been at the Duke’s side. So it’s been…”
He counted on his fingers. “Twenty-seven or twenty-eight years, I suppose?” Elowen’s thoughts stirred. She turned her head. “Then you must know a great many things about him.”
“That’s right.”
“Do you happen to know if he’s ever had someone he loved?”
Bran froze, his expression clearly conflicted. “Your Grace…”
Elowen knew exactly why he trailed off. She smiled. “Truth is, I already heard long ago that the Duke had someone in his heart. I don’t mind. If I did, I wouldn’t have married into this household.”
Then she softened her voice. “I’m not bringing this up to start a fight or demand answers. It’s just that earlier, the royal physician said that emotional stimulation might help rouse the Duke. I recall hearing that he once had a woman he cherished above all others. Someone he never forgot. If we could find that lady and bring her here, perhaps the Duke would wake.”
She looked straight at Bran, her expression calm and composed. “So you can relax. Just tell me who she is. Everything I do is for the Duke’s sake.”
Cassian lay on the bed. His limbs were devoid of strength; his entire body was unable to move, and even his eyelids were heavy as stone. Only his thoughts remained perfectly clear, and his hearing was still sharp. He heard every word Elowen said.
And he heard Bran’s realization, “Your Grace is absolutely right!”
Cassian burned with silent frustration. So easily talked into it. Fool.
Elowen asked patiently, “So, who is she?”
Cassian hesitated. Then thought again-when Elowen spoke in such a soft, coaxing voice, even he found it hard to resist. Perhaps it wasn’t entirely Bran’s fault for caving in.
Bran scratched his head, a bit distressed. “Well… I’m not exactly sure.”
Elowen clearly hadn’t expected that. “You’re not?”
Bran admitted, “I really don’t know if the Duke ever had someone like that. Over the years, many people tried to match him with someone, but he always refused. Said he already had someone in his heart. Rejected every proposal without a second thought. Later, even His Majesty came to ask who the woman was, and said he’d arrange the marriage personally. That would’ve been perfect. But the Duke still turned it down. Eventually, His Majesty started to suspect-maybe there wasn’t anyone at all. Maybe the Duke just didn’t want to marry and used that as an excuse.”
“I see…” Elowen murmured, deep in thought.
Cassian lay there, a bit surprised at himself-he hadn’t realized he’d hidden it so well. Born into nobility, Cassian had never needed to hide his feelings from anyone.
When he was pleased, no reward was too great to hand out. When he was displeased, people would be forced to bow and accept punishment.
He never needed to read others’ moods, and certainly never worried about offending anyone. He’d never had to lie except about this. This was the only thing he had ever kept secret.
Even those closest to him, even his brother the King, hadn’t heard a whisper of it.
“It doesn’t matter,” Elowen said, not looking the least bit discouraged. “Even if there isn’t someone he loved, the Duke must care about something else. We’ll try, one thing at a time.”
“How do we try?” Bran asked curiously.
Cassian was wondering the same thing.
Elowen only smiled. “We’ll try slowly, over time. It’s late now. Let’s rest. Tomorrow, I still need to visit Lady Marwen.”
Bran gave a short nod and stepped back to take his leave. Cassian frowned. To him, there was no need at all for Elowen to go see Marwen.
She was now the Duchess of Duskmoor. The only person she should ever have to lower her head for was the King himself.
His thoughts paused, and then something else occurred to him.
Elowen said she was going to rest-but where? He soon got his answer.
He heard the soft rustling of fabric, the sound of clothing brushing lightly against the floor as it drew closer. Someone climbed into bed. A breeze of jasmine drifted past his nose, faint and clean.
It was Elowen’s scent. She lay down beside him, on the inside of the bed, just next to him. Cassian’s breathing faltered, his chest rising and falling unevenly.
He didn’t know if it was from being unconscious too long, or if the fragrance at his side was too overwhelming-but he couldn’t fall asleep. Thoughts from the past surfaced, and with them, visions of the future.
Suddenly, Cassian felt something drape lightly across his waist.
The touch was soft and light, barely perceptible through the thin silk and blanket, carrying a faint coolness against his skin.
It was Elowen’s arm. She had rolled over in her sleep and draped her arm across him. Cassian’s breath hitched. His entire body went stiff.
There was no way he could sleep now.
The next morning, Elowen rose and sat before her dressing table. “I’m going to see Lady Marwen today,” she said to Mira. “Arrange my hair properly.”
Mira nodded quickly, then lowered her voice. “My lady, will you be talking about Lord Lucien?”
“Of course.”
Elowen knew this side of the manor was heavily guarded. Without an official sigil token, no one could get in. And there was only one such sigil-held by Marwen.
In other words, without Marwen’s approval, Lucien wouldn’t have been able to enter at all.
Mira suddenly remembered something and pulled a yellow pendant from her sleeve. “My lady, this.”
Elowen turned her head. “What is it?”
“Lord Lucien dropped this. He fled in such a panic last night, I found it by the garden wall.”
Elowen took the pendant, her lips curving faintly. “Good.”
After getting dressed, Elowen brought Mira, Cora, and two older attendants with her to Rose Hall.
Over there, Marwen had just gotten up and finished dressing. She was still yawning when a maid hurried in with quick steps to announce that the Duchess of Duskmoor had arrived.
Marwen raised her brows. “Well, well. Looks like Lucien was more capable than I gave him credit for.”
Last night, she’d heard that Lucien had returned pale and shaken. She’d assumed he’d failed. Turns out, the job had been done.
She sneered. “Deliberately waiting until morning to come? Good. Let’s see how I deal with her.”
Once she was washed and dressed, Marwen sat upright in the main hall, her expression icy, her eyes locked on the doorway.
She was waiting for Elowen to walk in and say, “Aunt Marwen”, and she would snap back, “So you still remember I’m your aunt?”
Then she would scold her, “You didn’t come pay your respects yesterday. Do you know how wrong that was?”
Footsteps approached, growing louder. Marwen’s heart picked up speed. Her palms grew damp with nervous sweat. At last, a shadow passed through the doorway.
The girl who entered wore a pale green gown, a light silvery shawl resting over her shoulders. Her hair fell loose down her back, her complexion clear and composed. She looked less like a living girl than a figure stepped out of a painted panel.
Seventeen-year-old Elowen was at the height of her beauty.
Before Marwen could even react, Elowen spoke, her voice cool and clear. “Lady Marwen, do you realize what you’ve done wrong?”
Marwen’s carefully rehearsed speech vanished. Stunned by the unexpected question, she faltered. “You… you’re questioning me? You’re just a girl-and you dare speak to me like that?”
Facing that youthful yet calm, detached expression, Marwen felt anger surge inside her. “Barely married into the family and already acting so high and mighty! Once you gain a foothold in Duskmoor Manor, I suppose you’ll cast the entire Ashcroft family and me out!”
Elowen didn’t argue. She asked, “Last night, did you give Lucien Ashcroft your access sigil?”
Marwen didn’t think much of it and snorted. “So what if I did? I manage this estate. I can give that sigil to whomever I please. What, trying to wrest control of the household on your second day here?”
Elowen locked eyes with her. “So that means Lucien attempted to assassinate the Duke under your instruction?”
Marwen thought she’d misheard. “Wh-what?”
It took her a beat to react. Then she clenched her teeth in fury. “How dare you accuse me of such a thing! You want control, and now you’re fabricating charges against me?”
Elowen drew a yellow pendant from her sleeve and tossed it in front of her. “Do you recognize this?”
Marwen’s maid bent down, picked it up, and placed it in her mistress’s palm. Marwen glanced at it. “A pendant. Fine quality, yes.”
But she’d seen finer. This meant nothing to her.
“What now? Trying to bribe me after threats didn’t work?”
Elowen chuckled. “Lady Marwen, the sun’s been up for a while. Are you still half-asleep?”
Hearing the mockery in her tone, Marwen’s brow creased. “You-“
“Take a closer look. This pendant belongs to Lucien,” Elowen said coldly.
Marwen paused. She examined the pendant again. The more she looked at it, the more familiar it seemed. She turned it over. On the back was carved a single character
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