A Touch of Shadow: The Duke's Obsession

He tapped once. Then again.

The steady tapping of Rhaegar’s fingers against the table echoed in the stillness.

"My lord," Sylric said at last, watching him carefully, "shall we... continue the investigation?"

Rhaegar lifted his eyes. "What do you mean?"

Sylric hesitated.

"His Majesty ordered you to take charge of this case, promising that if it were resolved, the matter of the broken engagement might be reconsidered. But now that the trail leads into the palace..." He paused, choosing his words with care. "Might it be that His Majesty already knew the truth would lead so far?"

Rhaegar remained silent.

"He bade you investigate, and spoke of leniency. But if the truth cannot be uncovered—if the inquiry is halted midway—then these past days... your kneeling will have been for nothing."

Rhaegar looked at him, his brows knitted together. "You believe His Majesty toys with me?"

Sylric lowered his head. "This subordinate would not dare. It is only that..."

"Only what?"

Sylric raised his gaze again. "My lord... the matter is deeply strange."

A long silence followed.

The candlelight flickered across Rhaegar’s face, casting shifting shadows that obscured all trace of his thoughts.

"At the end of it," he said quietly, "those girls are real. They were taken, sold... some may already be dead."

Sylric watched him as he spoke.

"They await justice. And I will serve it for them." Rhaegar reached for the blade upon the table and slid it back into his belt.

"We continue."

Sylric froze for an instant—then clasped his fists in salute. "Yes, my lord!"

***

Later, Rhaegar was summoned home for a family meal.

The Old Madam of the Duke’s household—his grandmother—had, for once, spoken of gathering the entire family at table. No matter how burdened he was with affairs, he could not refuse.

By the time he arrived, the main hall had already been prepared.

The Old Madam sat at the head, her silver hair arranged with immaculate care, a gentle smile upon her face. His father sat to her left, his expression reserved. His mother moved about, setting the plates and cutlery in order; upon seeing him enter, she cast him a meaningful glance.

Rhaegar inclined his head slightly and took his seat at the Old Madam’s right.

"Rhae has returned," the Old Madam said warmly, smiling brightly at him. "You have grown thinner. Have you not been eating well outside?"

"I have, Grandmother."

She patted his hand with parental warmth. "Then you must eat more tonight."

The dishes were brought forth, steaming and fragrant. The Old Madam personally placed food into his plate—one portion after another. Rhaegar accepted it all without protest.

Halfway through the meal, she spoke again. "Rhae."

He lifted his head.

"Try these pastries bestowed by His Majesty." She took up a wooden food box and opened it. Inside lay several delicately crafted confections. "They were sent by Her Majesty the Empress, who said they are to your liking." 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝙬𝙚𝓫𝒏𝓸𝓿𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝙤𝓶

Rhaegar looked at the box, his brows furrowing. In the end, he did not reach for it.

The Old Madam watched him, her smile unchanged. "Her Majesty is most considerate. And Isabella—that sweet child—is of fine character. Should the two of you be joined, then in time—"

"Grandmother." Rhaegar’s voice cut gently, yet firmly.

She paused.

He looked at her, his expression calm—so calm that nothing of his thoughts could be read within it.

"I will accept the pastries." He rose, taking up the box. "Please continue your meal. I have matters yet to attend to."

He turned to leave.

"Stop." His father’s voice rang out sharply. "Where are you going?"

Rhaegar did not answer.

His father’s gaze fell upon the food box in his hands, and a cold smile touched his lips.

"Are you going to take them to that woman?"

"Yes."

At once, his father’s expression darkened.

"You knelt for two days and two nights—until you coughed blood—for her. And now, before the case is even resolved, you are already eager to run to her side?"

Rhaegar remained silent.

His father stepped forward, standing directly before him. "For this period of time, you are not to see her."

Rhaegar’s eyes narrowed slightly. "...Father."

"I said, you are not to go." His father’s voice turned cold, edged with authority. "In the matter of Caelith Emberlyn, I have already tolerated much. I have even spoken on your behalf regarding the dissolution of the engagement. But now, with the case still unresolved, you will not see her."

"Father," he said at last, his voice calm and unyielding, "I will see this case through. And as for her, I will see her as well. No one can take this right away from me."

His father stepped forward, anger rising. "You—!"

At that very moment, hurried footsteps sounded from outside. The door was pushed open.

Sylric entered swiftly, coming straight to Rhaegar’s side and murmuring a few urgent words into his ear.

Rhaegar’s eyes narrowed. "Are you certain?"

Sylric gave a firm nod.

Rhaegar fell silent for the briefest moment. Then he set the food box back upon the table.

"Grandmother, please continue your meal."

Without another word, he turned and strode out. Behind him, his father called out—but he did not look back.

***

At the rear gate of Ostenton Embroidery House, a man clad in coarse cloth slipped quietly inside. His head was lowered, a bundle of embroidered goods slung across his shoulder. At a glance, he appeared no different from the usual delivery hands.

The attendant at the gate cast him a cursory glance and did not stop him.

He crossed the courtyard, passed beneath the corridor, and at last halted before a workroom.

He knocked—three times.

No answer.

A faint crease formed between his brows.

He pushed the door open.

The room lay empty.

An embroidery frame stood within, a half-finished pattern still stretched upon it; the needle and thread lay where they had been set aside. Only the person was gone.

His eyes narrowed.

Without hesitation, he turned and headed toward the rear courtyard.

Yvaine was crouched beside the well, washing clothes. Hearing footsteps, she lifted her head.

At the sight of the man... she froze.