A Touch of Shadow: The Duke's Obsession

Only when her figure disappeared from sight did Rhaegar raise his hand slightly and speak to Lance.

"Keep watch over the Valehart manor. At the slightest disturbance, report to me at once. And erase all trace of her movements tonight—leave not a single thread behind."

"Yes, my lord," Lance answered at once.

A shadow of cold fury flickered through Rhaegar’s eyes. Dorian had dared mess with the one he held dear once—such insolence would not go unanswered.

Meanwhile, Caelith had already returned to her own courtyard. The moment she stepped through the gate, she saw Dolly pacing anxiously beneath an umbrella, her steps restless with worry.

At the sight of her mistress, Dolly hurried forward, baffled. "My lady, where have you been? I have searched everywhere for you..."

Caelith lifted a hand to quiet her as she entered the chamber. "I could not sleep and went to the back garden for a walk. The ground was slick—I slipped and fell into the mud. Fortunately, it is nothing serious, only a few scrapes."

"If my lady wished for fresh air, why not call for me to accompany you? When I woke and found you gone, I was terrified—"

Seeing Dolly’s agitation rise, Caelith quickly interrupted, "I am unharmed, as you can see. Do not trouble yourself so."

"Yes..." Dolly nodded, though her gaze lingered. Suddenly, she noticed the robe draped over Caelith’s shoulders—one she had never seen before. The cut and stitching were unmistakably those of a man’s garment.

"My lady... this robe—?"

"By fortune, I was aided by a passing gentleman. This robe was given by him," Caelith replied, having no time to devise a proper excuse, her words deliberately vague.

Dolly understood at once that the matter was not to be probed. She asked no further questions, merely helping Caelith to sit upon the edge of the bed. "I shall fetch hot water at once to cleanse your wounds, my lady. You must not catch a chill."

"Wait." Caelith stopped her, taking hold of the robe and placing it into Dolly’s hands. Her voice lowered, grave with quiet urgency. "What happened tonight must not be known to a third soul. Take this robe and see that it is dealt with."

"Yes, my lady. I understand." Dolly nodded solemnly before withdrawing from the chamber.

***

Three days later, at Firefly Lane.

Clad in a plain, unadorned dress, Caelith stood before the gate of Courtyard B. In her hair was the hairpin Rhaegar had given her, glinting faintly in the light. She did not hesitate before knocking and announcing herself.

"Lady Caelith, my lord awaits you in the study," Lance said, stepping forward to open the door for her.

She inclined her head slightly and entered.

Before coming, she had already resolved herself. Today, she would secure an alliance with the duke—one that would allow her to uncover the truth behind her parents’ deaths. And perhaps... find out more about his own intentions.

Since he obviously bore affection for her, she would not let it go to waste. For in all the Empire, there was no one but Rhaegar who could help her uncover that hidden past.

And as for him—if he wished to unravel the secrets of the Valehart household and play upon its weaknesses, he would need her, too. Their relationship would be mutually beneficial.

No hard feelings this way, she thought to herself, trying to convince her heart that she was aiming at the right thing.

Within the study, Rhaegar looked up from the pile of papers as she entered. "You are punctual today. I am pleasantly... disappointed."

Caelith closed the door behind her and spoke without preamble. "Your Grace, I want to discuss something of importance with you. I think we shall form a secret alliance."

For a brief moment, he seemed taken aback. Then a faint smile curved his lips as he leaned back slightly, fingers interlaced upon his desk.

"An alliance?" he echoed, amusement flickering in his gaze. "And what, precisely, do you propose here?"

"The affairs of the Valehart estate are not so easily uncovered from the outside," Caelith said, meeting his eyes without flinching.

She knew the depths of that household—the hidden dealings Dorian concealed were not things an outsider could discern with ease. Even a man like Rhaegar Thorne could not unravel them in so short a time.

"I will help you investigate the Valehart family. I will uncover his secrets, lay bare his hidden cards, and place in your hands whatever it is you seek." Her voice was cold now, her expression utterly transformed from the woman he had known before. "In return, you will help me uncover the truth of my parents’ deaths. I want to know how they truly died. How does that sound?"

Since the night she returned to the Valehart manor, this had consumed her every waking thought. She knew she stood upon dangerous ground—remaining in that household was like walking a blade’s edge.

Aside from Dorian’s overwhelming hold on her very life, there was also Yvaine––a wicked witch whose life purpose seemed to be her cousin’s ultimate demise.

She was watched and controlled at all times. She had no means of her own.

An alliance with Rhaegar was her only path forward.

"An alliance... is acceptable," Rhaegar said at last, one brow lifting slightly, a glimmer of intrigue dancing in his eyes. "But I have a condition."

"What condition?" she asked.

"Interest," he replied.

Before the word had fully settled in the air, he rose and took two measured steps toward her.

She had no time to react.

In the next instant, her back met the wooden shelves behind her. The books trembled softly from the impact, their faint rustling the only sound in the room. Rhaegar’s arms came to rest on either side of her, caging her in completely between himself and the shelves.

His presence closed around her like a quiet storm.

His breath brushed against her face—warm, steady—carrying with it the faint scent of ink and that cool trace of pinewood that was uniquely his.