Fated Hearts: Reborn to be His Duchess

Chapter 106: Chapter 106: The Pull of Home

Elysia moved closer, studying Cassiel’s expression.

"My lord, is something wrong?"

Cassiel’s eyes remained on the book before him.

"Nothing."

"Are you hungry?"

"No."

She considered him for a moment.

"Would you like to play chess tonight?"

Her eyes brightened with hope.

Cassiel’s fingers paused against the edge of the page.

"Not tonight."

The answer was quiet, but it left Elysia with an inexplicable sense of distance.

Before she could think of anything else to ask, a servant appeared at the doorway.

"Your Grace, the carriage is ready."

Cassiel finally looked up.

He met Elysia’s puzzled gaze for only a moment before turning towards the servant.

"I have business at the palace."

Elysia’s lips parted.

"But—"

"Let’s go."

He was already wheeling himself towards the door.

The study fell silent after he left.

Elysia remained where she was, staring at the empty doorway.

Had she done something?

Had she somehow displeased him?

Her thoughts wandered unwillingly to Vaelen and the years after their marriage. She remembered how quickly his warmth had disappeared, how he could become distant without explanation, leaving her constantly wondering what she had done wrong.

Was Cassiel becoming like that too?

Perhaps he would soon ask for an annulment.

The thought settled heavily in her chest.

If that was what he wanted, she would have to prepare herself.

---

Elsewhere in Caelvyr, Ismeria and Adela were staying in a small house Cassiel had purchased for them after Rennor’s capture by Noverk.

Ismeria and Evren had yet to return from Draevenor Manor.

Adela, meanwhile, had been confined to the house after the disgraceful scene she had caused at the manor.

She had raged.

She had pleaded.

She had tried every argument she could think of.

None of it had moved her mother.

Now she lay curled beneath her bedcovers, sulking miserably as tears of frustration dampened her pillow.

"Miss."

A voice called softly from nearby.

"Miss..."

"Go away!"

Adela’s answer came muffled from beneath the covers.

The person did not leave.

Instead, the voice lowered, taking on a soothing, persuasive quality.

"I’ve come to help you, Miss."

Adela’s crying quieted.

"I know where your heart lies. You love the Duke, yet the Duchess stands between you and him. Because of her, you cannot even become his concubine."

The words struck precisely where Adela was most vulnerable.

Slowly, she pushed the covers down.

Her eyes were swollen and red as she examined the unfamiliar maid standing beside her bed.

"I’ve never seen you before."

Suspicion flickered through her tearful expression.

"Who are you?"

The maid smiled.

"Who I am isn’t important."

She leaned closer.

"What matters is that I know how you can get what you want."

Adela’s breathing caught.

The maid’s voice dropped to a seductive whisper.

"A place in Draevenor Manor."

Her eyes gleamed.

"Even the position of Duchess herself."

---

Back at Draevenor Manor, Elysia ate lunch alone.

She ate dinner alone as well.

By the time the evening shadows had deepened across the windows, Miriam entered the study.

Elysia looked up from her desk.

"Has the Duke returned?"

"Not yet."

Miriam went to the candle and carefully trimmed the wick, coaxing a little more light from the flame.

"It’s getting late, Your Grace. Shall I help you prepare for bed?"

She hesitated.

"His Grace may not return tonight. Or he may not come back until very late."

Elysia shook her head.

"I’ll wait a little longer."

Their marriage was still new.

More importantly, it had been decreed by the King. Even if an annulment seemed likely, neither of them could simply disregard the royal family’s dignity and treat the marriage as though it meant nothing.

It would not be settled overnight.

And despite the strange distance Cassiel had shown her that afternoon, Elysia still wanted to preserve some peace between them.

Besides, Cassiel had asked her several times to wait for him to come home.

She remembered that.

So she was willing to wait.

After Miriam withdrew, Elysia returned her attention to the household accounts.

At least, she tried.

Her eyes moved over the figures, but her thoughts kept circling back to Cassiel.

Why had he seemed displeased?

Had she said something wrong?

Had he been upset by what happened with Evren?

The questions went unanswered.

Eventually, the numbers on the page began to blur.

Sleepiness crept over her.

Elysia propped her right elbow on the desk and rested her forehead against her hand.

Her head began to dip.

Once.

Twice.

Then her consciousness slipped away.

A dream carried her back to childhood.

She was perhaps five or six years old, laughing as her father lifted her high into the air with his strong arms.

He tossed her playfully upwards.

She shrieked with delight.

Then, without warning, her father disappeared.

Elysia was falling.

Down.

Down.

There was nothing beneath her.

No one to catch her.

At that same instant, the arm supporting her head gave way.

Her sleeping body lurched forward.

Her forehead was about to strike the hard surface of the desk when a broad hand shot out and caught her.

The impact never came.

Elysia jolted awake.

Her eyes opened slowly.

The first thing she saw was Cassiel.

His dark gaze was fixed upon her.

The candle had burned almost to its end, leaving the study steeped in dim, wavering light. His features were softened by the shadows, making his expression difficult to read.

Elysia’s thoughts were still clouded with sleep.

"My lord..."

"Hmm?"

A faint, drowsy smile appeared on her lips.

"You’re back."

Cassiel’s gaze lingered on her face.

"You were waiting for me?"

Elysia nodded.

"I was waiting for you to come home."

The words were simple.

Yet something shifted inside Cassiel.

Waiting for you.

To come home.

The thought sent a subtle tremor through him, soft and persistent, like the brush of feathers against a place in his chest he had long kept untouched.

His hand was still supporting her head.

Elysia looked at him for a few moments.

Then, gathering a little courage, she leaned closer.

Her voice became soft and coaxing.

"My lord..."

Cassiel’s eyes met hers.

"Could you please stop being angry with me?"

His brow tightened almost imperceptibly.

"I’m not angry."

"But you wouldn’t look at me."

There was genuine hurt in her voice.

"You just left without even looking at me."

Cassiel’s expression shifted slightly.

Elysia, however, had no idea how disarming she could be when she spoke like this.

In her childhood, she had perfected the same gentle, coaxing manner whenever she wanted something.

She had used it to wheedle treats from her parents, charm her brothers, persuade her aunts and sisters-in-law, and soften their hearts whenever she had gotten herself into trouble.

Apparently, that instinct had never truly left her.

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