Fated Hearts: Reborn to be His Duchess

Chapter 44: Chapter 44: A Relentless Heat

That incident had followed Elysia for years.

In her previous life, news of what happened in that chamber had reached Vaelen almost immediately.

He had refused to listen to a single explanation.

Not one.

He had already disliked her.

The scandal merely gave him another reason.

Perhaps it was even one of the reasons he later refused to touch her.

Somewhere deep inside, he had convinced himself that she had been tainted.

The King and Queen had attempted to suppress the matter.

At the time, Elysia was still betrothed to the Crown Prince.

King Zephyrus and Queen Ilara had issued strict orders.

No discussion.

No rumors.

No witnesses speaking of what they had seen.

But scandals rarely obey commands.

The story spread anyway.

From the palace.

To the noble houses.

To the streets of Aveanlor.

Within days, everyone knew.

Or rather—

Everyone thought they knew.

Elysia became the subject of ridicule throughout the capital.

People whispered behind their hands.

They laughed.

They judged.

And she had suffered.

For a very long time.

She had hidden herself away.

Refused invitations.

Avoided gatherings.

Convinced herself she should feel ashamed.

Only much later had she finally understood the truth.

She had done nothing wrong.

She had been the victim.

The guilt belonged elsewhere.

To Sylrienne.

To the maid.

To the guards.

To every person who knowingly participated in the scheme.

Not to her.

Never to her.

And this time—

She had no intention of becoming their victim again.

This time, she intended to return every ounce of poison they prepared for her.

__

"Aunt Elysia."

Princess Sylrienne rose from her seat.

A goblet of wine rested in her hand.

Her smile was bright.

Far too bright.

"I would like to offer you a toast."

Elysia looked at the cup.

Then at Sylrienne.

"I’m afraid I don’t drink much."

The princess pouted immediately.

"Oh, come now." She laughed lightly.

"Everyone knows the Hartwells were a military family."

Her eyes sparkled.

"Surely General Calen Hartwell’s daughter isn’t afraid of a little wine?"

Elysia remained unmoved.

Sylrienne immediately shifted tactics.

Her shoulders drooped.

Her voice softened.

"Aunt..."

She lowered her eyes.

"I know I behaved poorly earlier. I truly regret it. This toast is my apology."

Then she looked up again.

"You wouldn’t reject me when I’m sincerely trying to make amends, would you?"

The hall grew noticeably quieter.

Several ladies watched with interest.

Even Queen Ilara’s expression sharpened.

Emotional pressure.

A public apology.

And a public audience.

Sylrienne had cornered her neatly.

Or so she believed.

Before Elysia could respond, the Queen intervened.

"Elysia."

Ilara’s tone remained calm.

"If you do not wish to drink, then don’t."

Immediately, panic flashed through Sylrienne’s eyes.

"Mother!"

She almost sounded desperate.

Then, realizing how suspicious that appeared, she quickly corrected herself.

"I simply want to repair our relationship."

The Queen’s gaze narrowed.

Clearly, she did not believe a word of it.

She opened her mouth to continue questioning her daughter.

Then—

"Very well."

Elysia smiled.

The answer surprised everyone.

"If Sylrienne is being sincere, I shouldn’t reject her goodwill."

Sylrienne nearly smiled in triumph.

Miriam stepped forward and filled Elysia’s goblet.

But before raising it, Elysia turned toward the Queen.

"Your Majesty."

Ilara looked up.

Elysia smiled warmly.

"We have become family now. It is a rare blessing."

She lifted her cup slightly.

"Would you honor us by sharing this toast as well?"

The Queen blinked.

She rarely drank.

And she disliked wine in general.

Yet before she could decline—

"Please, Mother!"

Sylrienne jumped in eagerly.

"It’s my birthday. Just one cup."

Caught between them, Ilara finally sighed.

"Very well."

Three goblets rose together.

Crystal touched crystal.

A soft chime echoed across the table.

When they drank, Sylrienne watched Elysia especially closely.

And when Elysia drained the entire goblet, excitement surged through her chest.

It’s done.

She swallowed her laughter with considerable effort.

This time, Elysia was finished.

---

A short while later, Elysia pressed a hand against her temple.

Her eyes appeared slightly unfocused.

"My head..."

She blinked slowly.

"Your Majesty... Princess Sylrienne..."

"My head hurts."

Before Ilara could respond, Sylrienne nearly sprang from her seat.

"Aunt must be feeling the wine!"

Her voice rang with suspicious enthusiasm.

"Autumn!"

A maid immediately stepped forward.

"Yes, Your Highness."

"Escort my aunt to one of the guest chambers."

Sylrienne smiled sweetly.

"She should rest."

Autumn bowed.

"This way, Your Grace."

Elysia rose slowly.

Her movements appeared slightly unsteady.

The perfect image of someone overwhelmed by strong wine.

Without protest, she followed the maid from the hall.

Sylrienne stared after her retreating figure.

A triumphant smile tugged at her lips.

She never noticed that the moment Elysia disappeared beyond the doorway—

The haze vanished from her eyes completely.

Nor did she see the faint curve of satisfaction that touched Elysia’s mouth.

---

Back in the hall, Ilara was watching her daughter carefully.

Far too carefully.

"What exactly are you planning?"

The Queen’s voice was low.

Sylrienne immediately adopted her most innocent expression.

"Planning?"

She blinked.

"What do you mean?"

"You know exactly what I mean."

The Queen’s gaze hardened.

"In the past, when you quarreled with Elysia, it was merely childish nonsense."

"But things are different now."

Sylrienne’s smile faded slightly.

"She is Duchess of Draevenor."

Ilara’s voice grew quieter.

"And wife to Cassiel Drakemont."

The name alone carried weight.

"Your father values his brother deeply."

"So do the generals."

"If you provoke her and word reaches either of them..."

She shook her head.

"Even I may not be able to protect you."

For the first time, genuine unease flickered across Sylrienne’s face.

She had been so focused on her revenge that she had almost forgotten.

Elysia was no longer simply the woman who once pursued Vaelen.

She now stood beneath Cassiel’s protection.

"But..."

Sylrienne hesitated.

"Uncle Cassiel was unconscious."

"And even if he wakes..."

She frowned.

"He might not necessarily take her side."

The moment the words left her mouth, Ilara suddenly stiffened.

A strange heat spread through her body.

Slowly.

Relentlessly.

Her breathing became uneven.

The room felt warmer.

Much warmer.

"Mother?"

Sylrienne immediately noticed.

Concern replaced her earlier confidence.

"What’s wrong?"

The Queen pressed a hand against her forehead.

Her cheeks felt unusually hot.

"I..."

She frowned.

"I don’t know."

The discomfort was growing.

Fast.

"Your face is red."

Sylrienne rose halfway from her seat.

"Are you ill?"

Ilara forced herself to breathe steadily.

"No."

A pause.

Then—

"Perhaps the wine."

She rarely drank.

And today the wine seemed unusually strong.

Sylrienne clicked her tongue.

"It’s Elysia’s fault."

"Why did she have to drag you into drinking?"

The Queen barely heard her.

The strange heat continued spreading through her limbs.

Her thoughts felt slower.

Less focused.

A faint sense of unease stirred deep inside her.

Something wasn’t right.

But she couldn’t quite identify what.

"I should rest."

Slowly, Ilara pushed herself to her feet.

The moment she stood, the room tilted.

Her body swayed.

And for the first time all evening—

Fear touched her eyes.

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