Fated Hearts: Reborn to be His Duchess

Chapter 18: Chapter 18: Secrets Shared in the Dark

The moment Elysia saw the boy’s face clearly, she paused.

His cheeks were smeared with dirt.

Dried blood streaked one side of his jaw.

He looked pitiful.

Half-feral.

Yet none of that was what caught her attention.

It was his eyes.

Bright.

Sharp.

Unsettlingly beautiful.

The shape of them reminded her of someone.

The slight upward tilt.

The narrow lids.

The dark lashes.

For a fleeting moment, Elysia felt as though she were looking at Vaelen.

Had she encountered him in darkness, she might have mistaken him for the Crown Prince himself.

Yet the resemblance only went so far.

Vaelen carried cold arrogance.

Distance.

Pride.

This boy was different.

There was something dangerous hidden beneath his smile.

Something soft and poisonous.

Like a beautiful snake basking in sunlight.

The servant noticed the boy grinning again.

His expression darkened immediately.

"Still laughing?"

He kicked him once more.

Then he turned hurriedly toward Elysia.

"Your Grace, this brat broke Lord Lucien’s writing brush. He can’t afford to repay it. I was only disciplining him."

The servant forced a smile.

"But don’t worry. I’ll remove him immediately."

He reached down to drag the boy away.

"Wait."

Elysia’s voice stopped him.

The servant froze.

Elysia glanced at the boy.

Then at the servant.

"If he cannot repay the brush, beating him won’t create money."

She tilted her head slightly.

"It seems rather inefficient."

The servant opened his mouth, then closed it again.

Nearby, the boy suddenly laughed.

A low, lazy sound. He lifted his head.

Those dark eyes settled on Elysia.

Then he smiled.

"In that case..."

His voice was unexpectedly pleasant. Smooth and slightly husky.

"Why doesn’t the Lady take me in?"

Bertha’s brows instantly knitted together.

Danger!

Every instinct she possessed screamed danger.

The timing was too perfect.

The circumstances too convenient.

And that resemblance to the Crown Prince...

It couldn’t possibly be accidental.

Someone had arranged this.

Someone wanted Elysia to notice him.

The boy seemed completely unconcerned.

His gaze never left Elysia.

A faint smile curved his lips.

"I’m useful."

He spoke slowly.

"As long as Your Grace keeps me, I’ll serve you well."

The final words lingered in the air.

Heavy with implication.

Bertha nearly rolled her eyes.

The shameless little fox.

Elysia frowned.

Clearly confused.

"You serving me won’t repay the brush."

The boy blinked.

Elysia continued thoughtfully,

"And I still wouldn’t have the money."

For the first time, the smile on his face faltered.

Elysia turned back toward the servant.

"Since beating him won’t solve anything, let him work."

The servant’s heart skipped a beat.

Work?

What work?

"Take him to the stables."

Elysia spoke decisively.

"He can earn wages feeding horses. Once the debt is repaid, he may leave."

The servant stared.

The boy stared.

Even Bertha stared.

For a moment, complete silence descended.

"Stables?"

The boy finally managed.

Elysia nodded.

"You said you could do anything."

Her expression remained perfectly serious.

"Then take care of the horses."

She thought for a moment.

Then added,

"Make sure they’re comfortable."

The boy’s smile finally disappeared.

That...

Was not what he had meant.

The servant nearly panicked.

"Your Grace—"

"What is it?"

Elysia looked at him patiently.

The servant suddenly found himself unable to speak.

Before he could think of an excuse, Elysia continued,

"Ah! I understand. You’re worried he might run away."

The servant forced a smile.

Exactly. Please let him run away.

Unfortunately, Elysia misunderstood completely.

She turned and beckoned toward one of the guards accompanying her.

A massive former soldier stepped forward.

His expression remained utterly blank.

The servant’s face immediately turned pale.

He recognized him. Everyone did.

Rumor claimed the man had once snapped an assassin’s neck with a single movement.

The servant suddenly felt sorry for himself. Forget the boy, he might not survive this assignment either.

"Take him to the stables." Elysia instructed.

"Make sure he works honestly."

The guard nodded once.

"Yes, Your Grace."

The matter settled, Elysia lost interest almost immediately.

She continued walking toward her courtyard.

Bertha followed beside her. The older woman pressed her lips together. Then gave up on stopping the smile entirely.

Sometimes...

Being innocent was its own form of defense.

—

Back in the Duke’s courtyard, Bran had just finished administering Cassiel’s medicine.

The moment he spotted Elysia, his face lit up.

"Your Grace!"

He looked delighted.

"That wooden-strip method truly works. I’ve never had an easier time feeding His Grace his medicine."

Elysia smiled.

"I’m glad."

She paused slightly and then asked, "Nothing happened while I was away?"

"Nothing at all."

Bran shook his head confidently.

"Everything was peaceful."

Elysia immediately turned toward Bertha.

The look in her eyes clearly said:

See? I told you so.

Bertha could only smile helplessly. Perhaps she had worried too much.

—

The remainder of the afternoon passed quietly.

Elysia immersed herself in the account books once again.

Column after column. Ledger after ledger.

The work was tedious, yet strangely satisfying.

By the time she finally finished, darkness had already fallen.

After washing up, she climbed into bed.

But sleep refused to come.

She tossed and turned again and again.

Nearby, Cassiel noticed her restlessness immediately.

Though unable to move, his senses remained sharp.

Every rustle of fabric reached his ears.

Every shift of the mattress.

Every faint movement.

The delicate fragrance of jasmine lingered around her.

Light.

Fresh.

Impossible to ignore.

Eventually, Elysia rolled onto her side.

Then she let out a long sigh.

"My lord..."

Her voice barely rose above a whisper.

Cassiel stilled.

What was she doing?

Elysia stared at the darkness above her.

Then sighed again.

"I really can’t keep it in anymore."

Cassiel’s attention sharpened instantly.

A brief silence followed.

Then Elysia spoke again.

This time sounding thoroughly frustrated.

"I’m the sort of person who talks too much."

Her voice softened.

"If I don’t tell someone what’s on my mind..."

She buried half her face beneath the blanket.

"...I think I might explode."

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