Fated Hearts: Reborn to be His Duchess

Chapter 112: Chapter 112: Power Cast in Bronze

"Your Grace. It has been some time."

The familiar voice drew Elysia’s attention.

She looked up and found Deborah standing nearby.

Elysia offered no response.

Deborah’s gaze slipped past her, and the faint crease that appeared between her brows betrayed a touch of disappointment.

"Is His Grace not attending today? I had thought the Duke was so devoted to you that he accompanied you everywhere."

Elysia gave her a sardonic smile.

"Did you become rather fond of kneeling at his command? If you’d like to experience it again, I’m sure I can arrange it."

Deborah’s expression stiffened.

She seemed ready to say something else, but then her gaze briefly flickered sideways, and she stepped closer, shifting towards Elysia.

"I only meant that His Grace may not care for you as much as you believe. If something were to happen to you today, what would you do?"

She had come far too close.

Elysia caught the scent of the powder on Deborah’s face, mingled with the medicinal odour clinging to her still-healing knee. The combination was distinctly unpleasant.

Elysia instinctively moved back.

Deborah reached for her wrist.

Elysia reacted without thinking and brushed the hand aside.

She had barely used any force.

Yet Deborah stumbled backwards and landed on the ground with a soft thud.

Elysia stared at her, momentarily taken aback.

Then a cold voice sounded from behind.

"What is going on here?"

Elysia turned and, without surprise, found Vaelen standing there.

"Your Highness..."

Before she could explain, Deborah spoke from the ground, her voice trembling with tears.

"It was my fault. I shouldn’t have asked Her Grace why the Duke wasn’t accompanying her today. I simply didn’t realise my words would upset her so badly..."

Vaelen’s expression hardened.

His gaze shifted to Elysia, accusation already written across his face.

"If my uncle isn’t here, it is because he didn’t wish to accompany you. More likely, you did something to displease him."

His voice grew colder.

"So why take your temper out on Lady Deborah? Are you jealous?"

Elysia’s eyes narrowed.

"Jealous of what?"

Vaelen gave a derisive scoff.

"Lady Deborah is Alhena, renowned throughout the kingdom for her talent. And besides..."

He deliberately let the words hang for a moment.

"You must have heard by now. My father and mother have decided that I will marry Lady Deborah. She will become the Crown Princess."

He looked at Elysia as though expecting to see the envy he was certain she must be concealing.

In his mind, the two things were more than enough to explain her behaviour. Elysia had once wanted nothing more than to marry him. Surely seeing Deborah become Crown Princess had filled her with resentment.

Yet Elysia merely looked unimpressed.

"I didn’t push her. She fell."

Deborah shook her head from where she sat, her face arranged into an expression of injured innocence.

Vaelen’s disbelief was immediate.

"Don’t be ridiculous. Who would deliberately throw herself to the ground? What would she gain from that?"

"Perhaps she simply wanted to disgust me."

Elysia’s gaze moved briefly to Deborah.

"And as for your assumption that I’m jealous of her becoming Crown Princess..."

A quiet laugh escaped her.

"That’s even more absurd."

Vaelen’s expression darkened.

"Is the position of Duchess of Draevenor somehow beneath that of Crown Princess? When we meet, which of us is expected to bow first?"

His jaw tightened.

Elysia didn’t give him time to answer.

"More importantly, whether she becomes Crown Princess or not, I remain the Duchess of Draevenor. By marriage, I am her senior."

Her gaze settled coolly on Deborah.

"If I choose to reprimand her—or even push her—it is her place to accept it."

Deborah’s face paled.

Elysia lifted an eyebrow.

"Speaking of which, neither of you has offered me the proper greeting."

Her tone remained perfectly composed.

"Is this how the Crown Prince and his future Crown Princess show respect to the Duchess of Draevenor?"

A flash of fury crossed Vaelen’s face.

Deborah had already been helped to her feet by her maid. She moved closer to Vaelen, lowering her eyes and putting on an appropriately timid expression.

She reached for his hand and gave it a gentle tug.

"Your Highness, perhaps we should greet Her Grace. If the Duke hears that we showed her such disrespect, he may be displeased with you again."

Vaelen’s teeth clenched.

"My uncle isn’t coming today."

His eyes hardened as he looked at Elysia.

"There is no one here to shield you."

Elysia’s brow rose.

"How do you know he isn’t coming?"

"I was informed this morning that he had gone to the army camp. How could he possibly make it here?"

"He did go to the army camp."

Elysia’s answer was calm.

"But he told me he would join me once he had finished his business."

Vaelen’s expression shifted slightly.

Elysia continued, "He also told me that anyone who offends me is offending both the King and him, and that I have his full authority to deal with them."

Her gaze travelled from Vaelen to Deborah.

Deborah instinctively edged closer to him.

Vaelen’s jaw tightened.

"Enough. There’s no need to bluff."

Elysia’s expression remained unchanged.

"Bertha."

The senior maid stepped forward at once.

"Your Grace."

"Tell them."

Elysia glanced at Vaelen.

"Is that what the Duke said?"

She had expected Bertha’s testimony to carry some weight. After all, Bertha had served Cassiel for years and had extensive experience within the palace. If Vaelen and Deborah refused to take Elysia’s word for it, perhaps they would listen to her.

What Elysia hadn’t expected was for Bertha to reach into her sleeve.

She drew out a small bronze signet.

It was exquisitely crafted, the surface engraved with intricate patterns that caught the light.

Elysia didn’t recognise it.

But Vaelen did.

The colour drained from his face.

It was his uncle’s personal seal.

The seal of the Duke of Draevenor.

A childhood memory surfaced with startling clarity.

He had once spent an afternoon playing in his uncle’s study. As a boy, he had been fascinated by the beautiful bronze seal and had picked it up with both hands, turning it this way and that as he admired the workmanship.

He had never imagined he would one day see it used like this—and that, too, in Elysia’s hands.

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