August stared at the divorce agreent. He wondered if Eilika had truly left. He trusted her, for she was a woman who never went back on her word, but the realization hit him with a jolt: this was the first ti in his life he had trusted anyone so deeply, and now, that trust was being put to the ultimate test.
His wet hair was disheveled, clinging to his forehead, when a sharp knock rattled the door. Hastily, he shoved the parchnt into his desk drawer and straightened his posture. "Enter," he commanded.
Maurice stood in the doorway. "The Duchess is gone," he announced, wasting no ti. He stepped into the room, his eyes scanning August with a critical gaze. "Now, answer : will the Duke remain safe after the second dose?" The skepticism dripped from his tone.
"Yes," August replied.
"You’ve done a terrible thing to the Duke and the child," Maurice muttered with disdain. "You have no idea what you’ve set in motion."
August’s expression hardened, his patience fraying. "Will you shut your mouth? Just do your job," he snapped. "Did anyone care for when I was a child?"
"For God’s sake, you’ve only brought chaos to this palace," Maurice countered, refusing to back down. "And this has nothing to do with Roman. What fault is it of his? All he wanted was a mother."
August didn’t flinch, rely gesturing dismissively toward the door. "Leave."
Maurice’s jaw tightened. He stared at August for a long mont before turning and stalking out.
~~~~~
"Father, my birthday is tomorrow! I’ll be five," Roman said, his face beaming. "Mama told a few days ago that she was planning a big surprise for . I’m so excited! She said she’ll take to the academy in Varos right after."
Damian smiled, turning his attention to Joanna. "Where is the Duchess? I haven’t seen her all morning, and breakfast is almost served."
"The Duchess instructed to remain with the young master, Your Grace. I am not certain of her whereabouts, but I will return to her chambers and bring her here at once," Joanna replied humbly.
"Hmm." Damian absently stroked Roman’s hair, though his attention wavered as the boy chattered incessantly about his mother. The growing silence in the suite began to grate on his nerves.
Finally, the chamber door creaked open. Joanna entered, her expression tight with confusion. "Your Grace," she began, bowing low. "I have searched the wing, but the Duchess... she is not in her chambers. I questioned the other servants, but none have seen her."
Roman stopped mid-sentence, his small forehead creasing in a mirror of his father’s expression. "Where did Mama go?" the boy asked, looking up at Damian with wide, uncertain eyes.
"She must be nearby," Damian murmured, though a cold stone of unease settled in his stomach. "Where could she possibly go at a ti like this?"
Before he could voice his growing alarm, the heavy doors opened once more. Maurice strode in, his face schooled into a professional calm, with the royal physician trailing closely behind.
"Your Grace, it is ti for your final assessnt," Maurice said, his voice steady despite the imnse weight of the secret he carried. "Roman, please, let the physician through."
Roman quickly slid from his father’s lap and stepped aside, watching as the physician began his work. Damian allowed the examination, but his focus was elsewhere, his eyes restlessly scanning the room for any sign of Eilika.
"Uncle," Roman asked, tugging at Maurice’s sleeve, "did you see Mama?"
Maurice paused, carefully eting Damian’s intense gaze before answering. "Yes, little master. The Duchess has returned to her family ho to attend to so urgent matters."
Damian’s jaw tightened, his brow furrowing into a sharp line of suspicion. "What? What urgent matter could possibly arise that would cause her to leave without saying a single word to ?" He glared at Maurice, his skepticism evident; he was a man who sensed a lie, even if he couldn’t yet na it.
"Your Grace, the Duchess confided nothing in either," Maurice lied, his tone carefully masked the panic clawing at his throat. "She rely ntioned she would return shortly."
The physician stepped forward, his movents brisk as he held out a glass vial. "Your Grace, the antidote. I have prepared it ahead of schedule."
Maurice watched with bated breath, desperate to ensure the dicine was consud before the truth set in.
He knew that once Damian discovered Eilika was gone, not just for an errand, but forever, the Duke would choose his own suffering over a salvation bought with his wife’s departure.
Damian ignored the physician, his gaze drilling into Maurice with a terrifying, intuitive intensity. Finally, he turned his focus to the valet standing near the door.
"Summon August," Damian ordered, his voice dropping to a dangerous, low register. "Drag him from his sleep if you must. Tell him I demand an audience."
Roman shrank back against the velvet cushions, his small hands clutching his knees. He didn’t understand the intricacies of the situation, but he recognized the tone. It was the sound of his father’s temper.
"Take Roman away," Damian ordered Joanna.
She bowed and asked the young master to follow him. The boy quietly held Joanna’s hand and walked out of the chamber.
Damian swallowed the bitter dicine and set the bowl back on the table with a sharp click.
"Maurice, are you still going to lie to ? Do not force to put a sword to your throat," Damian’s voice rose sharply, a tone that sent a tremor of fear through everyone in the chamber. The physician instinctively stepped back, lowering his head.
Just then, August’s voice reverberated from the doorway. "My dear cousin! It has been such a long ti since I last saw you, and I must say, you have truly impressed ." He strode into the room with a growing smirk.
He glanced at the empty bowl on the table. "Did you take the dicine? I see that you did. Good. Eilika’s sacrifice was not in vain, after all."
"What are you implying, August?" Damian questioned, finally rising to his feet.
"Did your lapdog not tell you?" August asked, his gaze flickering toward Maurice, who kept his eyes fixed firmly on the floor.
"Watch your tongue, August," Damian snapped, his eyes narrowing. "You saved my life, but that gives you no right to humiliate my n."
August’s grin turned sharp, dark and cruel. "Before I was banished from this palace, I promised I would return your favors tenfold." He tossed a scroll at Damian. It struck his chest and fell to the floor.
Damian caught it, his heart hamring against his ribs. The dread that had been gnawing at him since Eilika’s disappearance suddenly coalesced into a cold, hard knot. He unfurled the parchnt, his eyes scanning the ink. As the words registered, his blood ran cold.
"Eilika is no longer the Duchess of Varos, Damian," August pronounced, his voice smooth and devoid of pity. "She has officially divorced you, breaking every tie. She paid the price for your life by erasing herself from yours."
Damian clutched the parchnt until his knuckles turned white, the paper crumpling in his grip. In a blur of movent, he lunged forward, seizing August by the throat and slamming him against the wall.
"Why did you do this?" Damian growled, his voice trembling with a of fury and erging grief. "I only wanted your sches stopped!"
August rely chuckled, unbothered by the Duke’s tight grip. "And I have stopped it. Besides, why mourn a relationship you never truly valued? You showed her off like a trinket, not a wife. It is your fate, cousin: to live alone, and to die alone."
"I’ll kill you," Damian spat, turning violently toward the cupboard to retrieve his pistol.
"Do not forget I am the King’s blood, Damian," August countered, his voice dripping with arrogance. "Kill , and you will be hunted for treason. And what becos of your son then? I imagine he will be left to rot in a dark cell for the rest of his life. Is that the future you want for him?"
August didn’t stop, relishing the look of agony on the Duke’s face. "How could you ever expect to live in peace now? Eilika was intelligent, eloquent... you truly lost a treasure. She loved you so deeply that she relinquished her title without a second thought. You have discarded a diamond, Damian, and I fully intend to watch you suffer for it."
Damian’s restraint shattered. He threw a heavy punch toward August’s face, but Sylvian threw himself into the fray, catching his arm before the blow could land.
"Stop this, Damian!" Sylvian cried, his voice trembling. "The King is already on his way to set things right. I knew August would never cease his machinations, even at the very end."
"I provided the cure, for heaven’s sake! Why must you all paint the villain?" August exclaid, running his fingers through his hair in a fit of feigned exasperation. "Damian, show so humility. Have the decency to show a shred of gratitude."
Damian didn’t even hear him. He spun around, his eyes locking onto Maurice. "Where did she go? Maurice, tell , where did you send her?"
"I rely arranged a horse for the Duchess, Your Grace," Maurice murmured, unable to et the Duke’s desperate gaze.
"Which path did she take?" Damian roared, his voice echoing through the chamber. "Gather the soldiers! I will bring Eilika back."
"What if Eilika dies before that? You’ll again beco a widower," August said with a smile.
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