The Duke's Unwanted Second Wife

"Why would you get me killed?" Eilika questioned. She saw the flash of recognition in his eyes; the fear he had just voiced was tied directly to Liliana’s death.

Damian went quiet, his shoulders slumping as if he had suddenly lost the energy to argue. The defiance drained out of him, leaving only an exhaustion.

She waited for a long moment, watching him struggle with the shadows in his mind, before heaving a sigh.

"Damian, if you won’t speak, we will never find a solution," she said gently. "You aren’t hurting me with this silence; you are hurting yourself. Your silence isn’t a shield, it’s just a way to ensure your misery never ends."

"I told you I wanted to be alone," Damian stated.

"I won’t leave." Eilika walked back to the bed and lay down, pulling the duvet over her shoulders. she turned her back to him, refusing to look at him after he had shut her out once again.

Damian watched her for a moment before shaking his head. He removed his formal coat, tossing it aside, and began undoing the buttons of his shirt with trembling fingers. Finally, he sat on the edge of the bed and buried his face in his hands.

"I don’t want to fall in love again," he whispered into the silence. "It is my greatest fear. I’m sorry, Eilika, but I am hurting you the most in all of this."

She turned her head slowly before sitting up. "You’re wrong. You are hurting yourself the most," she corrected him firmly.

"Is love the only thing that matters in a marriage? No. I may crave your attention, but more than that, I worry for your soul. Why do you continue to blame yourself for Liliana’s death? It wasn’t in your hands, Damian. If there is one thing humans cannot do, it is stopping death. We may have control over birth, but never over the end."

Damian turned his head toward her, his eyes dark with a guilt. "I knew the complications. I listened to her and ignored what the doctor said. She bore a child for me, and that is why she died. My mind is a mess, Eilika. The voices in my head never stop. Even when I want to be happy, I can’t. I don’t deserve any of this."

Eilika sat in the silence that followed, realizing they were back to square one.

"Did you stop living when your father died?" she asked suddenly. When Damian stiffened, she added, "Forgive me if that question offends you, but I want to know what you felt. Did you stop living then?"

"That isn’t related to—"

"Why not?" she interrupted. "Your father fell sick before he passed away. You didn’t stop living, did you? Did your mother stop? Did she stop caring for you because her husband was gone? No. So why must you stop looking for your own joy? I understand that the trauma of losing the person who was supposed to hold your hand until your last breath is beyond imagination. But I also understand that you cannot bring the dead back. If you choose to ruin your life for them, then no one is a bigger fool than you."

She moved across the mattress and stopped directly in front of him.

"I can clear the mess in your head, but you have to hold my hand for that to happen," Eilika stated with a confident tone.

"I don’t want my husband to suffer anymore. I will do everything in my power to stop those voices. Give me three... no two months, Damian. If I am unable to ease your anxiety or your insecurities in that time, I’ll stop. If you ask me to leave your life after those sixty days, I will do it. But for two months, you must do things on my terms. What do you say?"

She reached out and held her hand open between them, waiting for him to take it.

Damian hesitated, his gaze dropping to the floor. He tried to pull back, but Eilika reached out and caught his hand, holding it firmly between her own.

"Those voices you hear aren’t real, Damian. You have shaped them out of your own guilt. Why can’t you see that?"

"I do. I know that very well," he said, finally lifting his head to look at her. "You think I haven’t tried to stop them?"

"Maybe you tried, but it was too much to fight alone," she said softly. "Perhaps in your heart I was nothing from the beginning, but I promised myself to be devoted to you. I want to build this family with you."

The memory of their earlier conversation flashed through her mind, the moment Damian had promised to grant her one wish, no matter the nature of the request.

"You said you would fulfill a wish for me," she reminded him, her grip tightening on his hand. "Then this is what I ask for. I ask for two months of your life. You must follow my lead, and you cannot go back on your word. You won’t run away from me every time you start hearing those voices."

Damian felt the weight of his own promise. He was conflicted, the urge to retreat still clawing at his mind, but he could not break a formal promise. He slowly nodded his head.

"I give you two months," he whispered.

Eilika let out a long breath of relief, the tension finally breaking. Her body reacted on its own; she rose to her knees and threw her arms around his neck, pulling him into a tight embrace.

Damian stiffened at the sudden contact, but he didn’t pull away.

Eilika, however, instantly broke the bug. "Forgive me. I got excited." She smiled and moved to her side on the bed. "Get in. Let’s go to sleep," she whispered. This time her back wasn’t toward him. "Tomorrow is going to be a busy day for us." She shut her eyes for the sleep to embrace her.

~~~~

The next morning, Eilika woke up to the sensation of soft fingers brushing against her cheek. She furrowed her brows as she blinked her eyes open, the morning light filtering through the heavy curtains.

"Mama, your hair was on your cheek. I only thought to brush it away. I didn’t mean to wake you up," Roman whispered, his small face hovering close to hers.

Eilika propped herself up on her elbows and rubbed her eyes, stifling a yawn. "It’s alright, Roman. I should be getting up anyway."

She looked around the room, the events of the previous night rushing back to her. Damian was nowhere to have seen.

"Father is reading the morning newspaper. He’s with Uncle Sylvian," Roman stated, watching her with wide, curious eyes.

"I think I am late. How long was I asleep?" Eilika asked, reaching up to gather her hair as Joanna walked into the chamber.

The maid bowed deeply, greeting the Duchess before turning to the boy. "Young Master, you should wait outside. Your father has requested your presence," Joanna affirmed.

"Mama, I’ll see you later," Roman said, jumping down from the bed hurriedly before running out of the room.

"Did you sleep well, Your Grace?" Joanna asked with a polite smile.

"Yes. I shall freshen up quickly," Eilika replied, moving toward the connecting door to her own chamber.

.

.

.

On the other side, Damian sat in a quiet sunroom, sipping black tea as he folded his newspaper.

"I thought your morning mood would be spoiled after what you went through last night," Sylvian remarked, inhaling the scent of his herbal tea. He took a long sip, his eyes fixed on the Duke’s face, trying to read him.

"How much did you tell her?" Damian asked, his fingers tracing the rim of his teacup. "I know you shared things I never intended for her to hear."

"It was necessary, Damian. Besides, she already knew about your nightmares and the trauma of losing Liliana," Sylvian answered calmly.

"I didn’t expect her to be this understanding," Damian began in a low voice. "She’s different. I can’t quite put it into words, but after listening to her last night, I felt a surge of anger toward myself. This grief has occupied more of my mind than I realized."

"At least, you have had the realisation," Sylvian stated. "Indeed, the grief doesn’t let you see the life you’ve ahead of yourself."

Damian turned quiet when he heard Roman’s footsteps.

"Father, Mama has woken up," he announced.

"I told you not to disturb her. She slept late," Damian stated, taking another long sip.

"Father, I merely brushed the hair away from her face," Roman stated and sat beside him on the sofa. "What happened last night? I heard the servants saying that Father fought with Mama."

"That didn’t happen, Roman. They were lying," Damian said with a frown. He was unable to understand why some of the servants had to portray him as the villain all the time.