A Touch of Shadow: The Duke's Obsession

Yvaine’s screams quickly drew attention to the scene.

Several old women tending nearby stalls and neighbors from the surrounding alleys gathered at once, forming a loose circle around her. Their gazes swept over her with open disdain.

As more and more people crowded in, Yvaine curled in on herself, glaring fiercely at them as she lashed out:

"Get away from me! I am a noble lady—if you keep staring, I will have you all killed!"

But in her current state—hair disheveled, clothes torn, dignity in tatters—what trace remained of a noble lady?

The crowd was not frightened in the least.

Instead, laughter rippled through them, growing louder.

Yvaine trembled with rage. She struggled to rise, trying to shove the onlookers aside—but the vagrant seized her again, dragging her down harshly. At the same time, a few idle ruffians edged closer, their expressions opportunistic and vile.

Desperation clawed at her like a wild animal.

She felt as though she were being driven mad—so cornered she almost wished to drag them all down with her into ruin.

At that very moment, several members of the Shadow Guard—stationed nearby by Rhaegar Thorne—forced their way through the crowd.

Without a word, one of them stepped forward and wrenched the vagrant away from her.

"Miss, are you harmed?" he said evenly. "We were passing by and saw you being harassed, so we came to assist."

The words were flawless in their sound.

They made it seem as though they had arrived by chance, intervening out of simple righteousness—yet in truth, they had ensured that Yvaine’s most humiliating state had been witnessed by every eye present.

An old woman clicked her tongue. "How will this girl ever show her face again? What respectable family would dare marry her? Tsk! Such humiliation."

Another chimed in, shaking her head. "Indeed. For a woman, nothing is more important than her virtue. This one is now lost forever. I’ve heard of noble women seeking cheap thrills, but this? This is too much!"

At those words, Yvaine’s vision went dark once more.

She collapsed into unconsciousness.

The Shadow Guard exchanged a brief glance, their purpose fulfilled. Without lingering, they turned and disappeared swiftly down the alley.

Soon, the crowd dispersed.

Yet the story did not. 𝒻𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘸ℯ𝒷𝘯𝘰𝑣ℯ𝑙.𝘤𝑜𝘮

News of a young noblewoman—her clothes in disarray, entangled with a vagrant in the back alleys—spread like wildfire.

From street vendors to alleyway gossips, everyone spoke of the scandal of the Valehart household’s cousin. A noble lady sells her body just to get a touch of forbidden passion.

Within half a day, nearly the entire capital knew.

***

Meanwhile, at the residence in Firefly Lane, Rhaegar stood beside the bed, watching Caelith in solemn silence.

Though she had been given medicine, it had done little to ease her condition. Her breathing remained uneven, her cheeks flushed with unnatural heat.

He reached out and touched her lightly.

The moment his fingers brushed her skin, he felt it—burning hot, no less than before.

His expression darkened. He turned, intending to seek out a cooling remedy, but suddenly, her small hand seized his wrist.

Her fingers were cold—so cold—yet her skin burned like flame, the contrast striking.

"Don’t... don’t go..." Caelith murmured, her voice soft and breathless, the corners of her eyes tinged red. "Don’t leave me alone..."

Fragments of memory surged through her mind—

The chamber at the charity hall.

Those two men.

Their crude, leering faces.

Each image sent a chill down her spine, even as her body burned with heat.

Rhaegar’s heart tightened as if strangled by a rose thorn.

He turned his hand and clasped hers firmly, his voice low and steady as he reassured her, "I am not leaving. I am here."

With no other choice, he seated himself beside the bed, his brows frowning.

Sensing his presence, Caelith suddenly leaned forward and fell into his embrace. Her arms wrapped tightly around his waist, her face buried in the folds of his robe, muffled sobs escaping in broken fragments.

Her body trembled uncontrollably. Her fingers clutched desperately at his garments as she murmured in a faint, fractured voice:

"Why... why would she harm me? I have never stood in anyone’s way... why would she wish me dead... Why... me..?"

She could not understand it.

Yvaine Emberlyn—her own cousin. There had never been deep enmity between them. Was a mere fragment of Dorian Valehart’s favor truly worth such ruthless cruelty? She could not.

She could not understand it.

This world was already unforgiving to women. Once a woman’s honor was destroyed, there was no path left but ruin.

Why, then, would Yvaine drive her to such a fate?

Rhaegar raised his arm and drew her closer, enclosing her entirely within his embrace, pressing her cheek against his chest as if to shield her from all that threatened her.

"Let it out," he murmured, leaning close to her ear, his voice softer than it had ever been. "Do not hold it in. From now on... I will protect you. So lean on me, Caelith. Lean on me."