The Duke's Unwanted Second Wife

Damian felt the sudden tension in Eilika’s frame as she froze beside him. Her face which lit up with a radiant smile earlier, now looked pale.

"Who dares utter such nonsense to my wife?" Damian’s voice didn’t rise, but it took on a dangerous edge that cut through the lingering giggles.

He turned slowly, his cold gaze pinning the trio of women who had been mocking her. They recoiled, their smirks vanishing instantly under the weight of his stare.

"If you are so blinded by jealousy that you cannot afford this gown, do not mistake your bitterness for a critique of beauty. You clearly haven’t the slightest grasp of the word."

He stepped forward, his shadow looming over them. "Apologize to my wife, or I will ensure your disrespect carries a heavy price."

The women paled, sensing the authority behind his words even without knowing his title. Panicked, Eilika reached out and gripped his hand, leaning in to whisper urgently against his ear. "Don’t. You’ll draw too much attention. Our cover will be ruined."

Damian didn’t break eye contact with the women, but he gave Eilika’s hand a firm, reassuring squeeze. "Don’t fret," he replied, his voice a low, steady rumble meant only for her. "I have no intention of letting this stand."

"Sir, please, I implore you to calm down," the salesperson urged, his hands trembling. "Your wife looks truly radiant in that gown. Let us not invite chaos into the establishment."

"I will be calm once those three are dealt with," Damian stated. He didn’t blink, his gaze pinned on the trio like a predator tracking its mark. "Furthermore, they are to be debarred from entering not only this boutique but every boutique in this town."

The lead woman, emboldened by the presence of her friends and her own status, let out a mocking chuckle. She stepped forward, tilting her chin up.

"And who exactly are you to dictate where the daughter of the Mayor may or may not shop, Mister? I will not apologize. The standards of beauty are universal. Flawless skin is what everyone desires, and no amount of silk can hide a permanent blotch."

Damian’s fury only increased. "In that case, I must ensure your father does not remain the Mayor of this town by sunrise," he pronounced.

Eilika, seeing the veil of their secret mission slipping and Damian’s fury reaching a breaking point, stepped in. She gripped his arm with both hands.

"Please... let’s just go home," she whispered urgently, her eyes pleading with his. "Listen to me, just this once. It isn’t worth it."

Damian looked down at her, the rigid tension in his shoulders finally beginning to thaw. "Change your dress," he stated. Fixing his gaze at the salesperson, he asked, "What is the cost?"

Nearby, the mayor’s daughter let out a sharp, mocking chuckle. "Some people truly believe they own the world," she muttered to her friends, loud enough to carry. "He speaks as if he carries a rank higher than a common traveler."

Damian’s fists white-knuckled at his sides as the salesperson handed him the bill. He paid the exorbitant amount without a word of negotiation. By the time the transaction was finished, Eilika had emerged, dressed once more in her own clothes. The gown was packed and handed over, and they stepped out.

Instead of heading toward the carriage, Damian turned in the opposite direction. Eilika hurried to keep pace until they reached a quiet, shadowed stretch of the street, isolated from the roar of the market.

"Damian, stop," she said, causing him to halt abruptly. "You didn’t have to say anything to those women. I am... I am used to such comments."

"Used to it?" He spun around, his eyes flashing the anger boiling inside him. "Why should you ever be used to that? I wanted to cut the tongue from her mouth. And I still might."

"Don’t forget why we are here," Eilika reminded him. "Our mission comes first. Will you really pick a fight with every person who mocks me? You can’t."

"I can, and I will," Damian pronounced, stepping into her space. "You are my wife. You are the Duchess of Varos. Anyone who dares to breathe a word against your beauty will find their way to the guillotine. I will personally see to it."

Eilika stared at hi in bewilderment. "You’re calling me your wife," she said softly, her eyes glistening with tears. "It feels... strange to hear you say it."

"Because it is the truth," Damian replied. He didn’t fully understand the surge of possessiveness gripping him, but seeing her flinch at those insults had felt like a strike against his own soul.

It was a wound to his pride. "No one is permitted to trample on your dignity. It is my duty to punish those who hurt you."

"You don’t need to. We have a task to finish," Eilika murmured, turning away to hide her face, clutching the packed gown to her chest.

She didn’t get far. Damian reached out, his hand firm on her arm as he drew her back against him. "I have no idea why I am feeling this pathetic," he rasped.

He wrapped his arms around her from behind, pulling her flush against his chest. Eilika’s heart hammered frantically against her ribs as he leaned down, his cheek brushing softly against hers in the dark.

"You’re beautiful. Keep that in mind," Damian murmured. "I don’t care for the scars you carry. Roman loves you. Even my mother adores you."

The list was practical, yet Eilika felt an ache at what was missing. She tilted her head back, her eyes searching the frozen depths of his icy blue gaze. "And what about you, Damian?"

Damian’s expression didn’t waver, though his grip on her arms tightened ever so slightly. "I respect you," he stated, missing the word she wanted to hear. "You are a wonderful woman."

He set a clear boundary meant to remind her that while he would defend her honor to the death, his heart was a fortress he wasn’t ready to open.

Driven by a sudden, desperate impulse to shatter that composure, Eilika turned in his arms and pressed her lips to his. It was a brief kiss, born of a longing she couldn’t suppress. The moment her brain caught up with her heart, she recoiled, her face burning with a heat.

"Let’s go back to the cottage. It’s already too late," she muttered. She spun around, her eyes blurred with tears as she began walking aimlessly, her sense of direction completely lost in her haste to escape his silent judgment.

Just then, Damian grasped her arm and said, "You’re heading the wrong way."