The Duke's Unwanted Second Wife

"Thank you, Uncle August," Roman said, eagerly taking the candy. He began picking at the waxed paper wrapping but paused at the sound of his mother’s voice.

"It is chocolate. There are no almonds in it, correct?" Eilika asked, her eyes fixing on August, who remained kneeling on the parquet floor to stay at the boy’s eye level.

August raised an eyebrow. "Why? Does the boy not eat almonds?"

"Yes, Uncle. I am allergic to them," Roman spoke up, his fingers still resting on the half-peeled wrapper. "Aunt Rosaline brought a tin of chocolates a few days ago, and after I ate them, my face grew terribly hot and itchy."

"No, these are made of pure cacao," August reassured her.

A memory surfaced in his mind. Liliana had possessed that exact same allergy. He kept the observation to himself as he watched Roman finally pop the chocolate candy into his mouth. A genuine smile softened August’s austere features at the boy’s obvious delight.

"Uncle August, why did Uncle Sylvian not accompany you? He gifted me a pony for my birthday, and the stable master has been giving me proper riding lessons," Roman said, the sweet shifting in his cheek as he proudly recounted his progress.

"I cannot say for certain why your Uncle Sylvian chose to remain at the palace this time," August replied.

Roman tilted his head, his brow furrowing. "But do you not both reside within the capital palace? Uncle August, I never saw you before. Where have you been all these years?"

August quieted. He cast a brief glance up at Eilika, who stood rigid nearby, before looking back at the child. "Do you want a truthful answer, Roman?"

"A gentleman must always speak the truth," Roman declared, squaring his small shoulders.

"Very well. I was sent far across the border to live," August said simply.

"Where?" the boy pressed, his curiosity piqued.

"Farther. A quiet province you would not find on the maps in your schoolroom."

"Were you sent there on the King’s business?" Roman asked.

August offered only a faint nod, choosing to let the boy’s assumption stand. The talks of his exile and court banishment was entirely unsuited for a child.

"Roman, you shall return to your quarters with Joanna," Eilika said, resting her hand gently upon the crown of his head.

The boy nodded obediently, scurrying over to the waiting maidservant before falling into a disciplined stride as they walked down the corridor.

August rose to his feet, adjusting the cuffs of his coat as he watched the boy’s small figure disappear around the grand turn of the hallway. Once the footsteps faded into the distance, he finally looked at Eilika.

"Liliana was allergic to almonds as well," August said with devoid of the warmth he had shown the boy.

"Yes, I am aware," Eilika replied, keeping her posture rigid. "And I am grateful that Prince August mastered his temper in front of the child and kept his explanations brief."

August arched an eyebrow, a cold, mocking amusement flashing in his eyes. "You truly view me as a villain, do you not?"

"On certain occasions," Eilika stated, meeting his gaze without flinching, "your actions left very little room for any other interpretation."

She took a brief pause before continuing, "However, Your Highness, I do not believe you are entirely a villain. You suffered your own share of misery in exile. But Damian did not live a life of ease either, as I have told you before. That is precisely why I struck you when you flung Liliana’s name in his face. You remain entirely ignorant of the depth of Damian’s suffering. The truth of what Liliana did broke something fundamental within him. He trusted that woman completely; he had intended to dedicate his entire life and loyalty to her."

August leaned back slightly, an assessing look crossing his features. "Should you not be thanking me instead? At the very least, forcing the truth into the light reveals her true nature. Now he will not allow her to make you suffer within your marriage. Yet, despite everything, you have never spoken ill of Liliana yourself. She was the sole reason Damian refused to move forward. My first impression for you remains the same– You’re different, Eilika."

Eilika remained entirely unmoved by his remark, her expression masking any thoughts she held on the matter. "Enjoy your evening, Your Highness. And if you wish to prolong your stay here at the estate, please feel free to do so."

"Do you not care to learn why I have returned to Varos?" August asked, taking a step toward her. "Damian is convinced I am plotting some manner of ruin. Do you share his suspicion?"

"I have formed no opinions on the matter," Eilika replied calmly. "But if Prince August wishes to disclose his reasons for coming here, I am listening."

"In the capital palace, no one desires my presence, save for my father, perhaps. Though even he doesn’t care for me, considering he was the one who signed my decree of exile," August muttered, looking away briefly. "In truth, watching the way you tend to Roman... I find myself wishing my own stepmother had possessed a fraction of that grace."

Eilika looked at him closely. "Is that why you travel to this province? To assure yourself that Roman is being treated well?"

"No. You misinterpret my meaning," he said quickly. "I came here because this estate offers a quiet refuge. I will not find the same hostility and complications here that await me in the capital."

"I hope you earn a good name here then by helping the Duke," Eilika stated, a small smile finding her lips.

August smiled back when he heard a voice that grabbed both of their attentions.

August’s faint, bitter smile was cut short by the sound of approaching footsteps and a voice that immediately drew both of their attentions.

"Here you are, Eilika," Damian said, stepping out onto the gallery. His eyes instantly narrowed as he noted how closely August was standing to his wife. Moving with quick, possessive speed, Damian crossed the remaining distance to close the gap, taking her firmly by the wrist as he brought himself to her side.

"The matter regarding Athelgard has been resolved," Damian informed her, his tone laced with authority as he addressed her directly, pointedly ignoring his brother. "And I have put measures in place to ensure such unrest does not spread to the other villages or border towns."

"That is wonderful news," Eilika replied. She glanced between the two men. "Would you care to take your evening tea here with Prince August? I shall have the servants bring out a tray with snacks."

"What about you?"

The question came from both Damian and August in unison, their voices overlapping in the quiet corridor.

Eilika looked from one prince to the other. "I must attend to Roman. He requires my assistance with his evening studies."

She offered them both a formal, polite nod before turning on her heel and departing down the gallery.

August watched her leave, then squinted his eyes at his brother. "Will you take tea with me, then?"

"It seems the Prince has little true desire for my company," Damian replied, his voice entirely devoid of warmth.

"On the contrary. Let us have our tea," August countered, a sharp edge returning to his tone. "We can use the time to discuss a more pressing matter, specifically, how you intend to repay me."

Without waiting for an answer, August turned and strode toward the grand drawing room. Damian followed closely behind, his brow furrowed in irritation.

"Repay you?" Damian remarked, his boots clicking sharply against the tiled floor. "I was under the impression you refused any compensation. You seem entirely incapable of sticking to a single purpose."

"Eilika returned to you and—"

Before August could finish his sentence, a deafening roar shattered the stillness of the palace. The floor beneath their boots shuddered violently as the concussive force of a great explosion ripped through the air.

Both men turned instantly toward the source of the blast. It had come from the very corridor Eilika had entered only moments before.

Damian did not hesitate. Instantly, he was in motion, pushing past August and sprinting down the gallery. His heart hammered against his ribs as he rounded the corner, his leather boots skidding heavily across the stone floor to a sudden halt.

Before him, a wall of choking black smoke and roaring orange flames erupted upward. The blast had torn through the architecture, shattering the marble pillars and sending a cascade of burning debris across the passageway, completely blocking the path ahead.

August halted beside him.

"The flames are high!" He exclaimed when he found Damian jumped right through that fire.

"Damian!" He shouted, but the Duke didn’t stop. August turned to the other ready to call for the help.

His sole purpose was to find Eilika to ensure she was safe. But seeing the extent of fire and damage, a dreadful feeling occupied Damian’s heart.