The Duke's Unwanted Second Wife

Eilika watched Roman for a moment longer as he scribbled across the art book. Satisfied that it would keep him occupied, she leaned down. "I’ll be checking on the dinner preparations, dear."

"Hmm," Roman hummed, not even looking up.

Relieved that the earlier storm of tantrums had passed, Eilika stepped out into the corridor and gave a quiet instruction to the waiting maid. "Keep a close watch on him."

As she descended the grand staircase, she caught a glimpse of Damian finishing his conversation with the boys. By the time she reached the living room, he had already signaled for the servants to lead them to their guest quarters for some much-needed rest.

Just as Eilika took her seat on the plush sofa, Maurice entered. He offered a bow to the couple. "Your Grace, I have brought important intel regarding the men from the market."

Damian turned, his gaze narrowing. "Hmm? What is it, Maurice?"

Maurice stepped closer, lowering his voice. "A big name is behind all this trafficking. They say it’s someone close to the King."

"What? Who could commit such a heinous act?" Eilika interjected, her hands tightening in her lap.

"Elite class people, mostly," Damian answered grimly. "High officials with enough power to make paperwork, and people, disappear. But as far as I know, the King maintains a transparent relationship with every official in the capital."

"Perhaps they are simply better at hiding than you realize," Eilika suggested. "The Crown Prince spends more time in the inner circles of the younger ministries. He hears the whispers that don’t always reach the Duke’s ears. Why don’t you ask him about it?"

Maurice nodded in agreement. "I agree with the Duchess, Your Grace. The Crown Prince has his own network of informants. Besides he’s the one who sent you for this mission here," he asserted.

"I’ll send word to the Crown Prince tomorrow," Damian said.

Maurice recalled the private instructions the Dowager Duchess had given him before they departed, to find every possible excuse to bridge the distance between the Duke and his new wife. This trip was meant to be more than just a mission of justice; it was meant to be a foundation for their marriage.

"Your Grace," Maurice began, a subtle glint in his eye, "why don’t you take the Duchess out tonight? I’ve heard there is a vibrant fair occurring in the market district. It would be a shame to miss it, and I can personally assure you that I will keep a close watch on Young Master Roman."

Eilika looked at her husband, expecting refusal. She didn’t want to hope for a night with him. "The Duke must be tired, Maurice," she said softly, trying to spare Damian the effort of declining. "Let’s not trouble him with such things after the day we’ve had."

"I’ll take you out. Get yourself ready," Damian said.

Eilika stopped blinking, her breath hitching as she met his gaze.

In Damian’s mind, this wasn’t just a social outing. Eilika was pouring her soul into Roman’s happiness, and his sense of duty demanded he reciprocate that care. He couldn’t offer her his heart, not yet, but he could offer her his time and his protection.

"Roman might get upset if we leave him behind," Eilika said. She imagined the little boy’s face if he found out they had slipped away to a fair without him.

"Roman knows his mother needs to spend time with his father," Damian asserted.

Eilika stood frozen for a heartbeat, her eyes wide. ’Why is he acting like this?’ she wondered.

"Shall I make the formal arrangements for your outing then, Your Grace?" Maurice asked, his voice humbler than usual, though a knowing glint danced in his eyes.

"That’s not needed," Damian replied, his gaze shifting back to Eilika. "The sun is already setting. You should get ready now so we can return before the night grows too old."

Eilika gave a small, flustered nod and hurried upstairs to their bedroom.

Downstairs, Maurice watched her disappear before turning to Damian. "The Duke should consider pampering his wife with a present tonight," he suggested smoothly. "A token from the fair, perhaps. Something to mark the occasion."

Damian nodded and went upstairs. He found Eilika was choosing between the two dresses and turned around upon seeing his reflection in the mirror.

"Which will look good?" she asked.

"The light green one," Damian replied. He pulled open the cupboard to take out a blazer for himself. As he wore it and adjusted his shirt’s collar, he heard Eilika’s voice.

"What’s with this sudden outing? Is this to pretend to the people here that everything is going well between us?" Eilika asked, her voice carrying a hint of skepticism as she paused at the doorway. "We could easily take Roman with us; it would look even more natural."

Damian stiffened slightly, finding it surprisingly difficult to admit the truth: that he simply wanted to do it for her. He wasn’t used to offering kindness without a strategic reason, and her question made him feel uncomfortably transparent.

"Since we are investigating the matter here, the locals can be helpful to us," he said, quickly weaving an excuse to shield his true intent. "Observing the crowd at a fair can reveal more than a formal inquiry. Besides, taking Roman out at this hour is an unnecessary risk."

Eilika studied him for a moment, trying to find a crack in his stoic mask. "I understand. I’ll get ready then," she conceded, though her heart felt a small, curious flutter.

She disappeared into the small dressing room, leaving Damian alone with his thoughts. He exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

’If I tell her, then her expectations from me can grow more,’ Damian thought. He moved to the dressing table, combed his hair and sprayed a bit of perfume over his wrists, then rubbed them on his neck.

He looked at the necklace set resting on the table and recalled he selected it the day his mother went to Eilika’s house to confirm their marriage.

As he touched it, Eilika stepped into the bedroom, trying to hook her dress from behind.

"Damian, can you call a maid?" she urged.