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Fated Eclipse: The Illegitimate Princess And Her Alpha Suitors

Chapter 44: Of Curious Scents and Unspoken Questions · Oct 17, 2026

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Chapter List (452)

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1 Chapter 1: The Prophecy 2026-10-17
2 Chapter 2: A Moon Among Shadows 2026-10-17
3 Chapter 3: The Duke Who Did Not Bow 2026-10-17
4 Chapter 4: The Man Who Saw the Shadows 2026-10-17
5 Chapter 5: Behind the Queen’s Door 2026-10-17
6 Chapter 6: The Cost of Survival 2026-10-17
7 Chapter 7: Beneath the Sleeping Crown 2026-10-17
8 Chapter 8: A Stranger Beneath the Lanterns 2026-10-17
9 Chapter 9: A Kiss for a Stranger 2026-10-17
10 Chapter 10: The Cost of Obedience 2026-10-17
11 Chapter 11: Silent Witness 2026-10-17
12 Chapter 12: A Morning of Calculated Obedience 2026-10-17
13 Chapter 13: The Water Is Cold After All 2026-10-17
14 Chapter 14: The Weight of Waiting 2026-10-17
15 Chapter 15: Names Spoken Like Blades 2026-10-17
16 Chapter 16: Where Silence Still Belonged to Me 2026-10-17
17 Chapter 17: The Name He Stole from My Mouth 2026-10-17
18 Chapter 18: A Favour Stolen Back 2026-10-17
19 Chapter 19: Names, and the Things They Unsettle 2026-10-17
20 Chapter 20: A Curious Absence at Breakfast 2026-10-17
21 Chapter 21: Of Breathless Attendants and Borrowed Paper 2026-10-17
22 Chapter 22: Of Windblown Sketches and Stubborn Curiosity 2026-10-17
23 Chapter 23: The Door at the End of the Wing I 2026-10-17
24 Chapter 24: The Door at the End of the Wing II 2026-10-17
25 Chapter 25: Promises in a Silent Room 2026-10-17
26 Chapter 26: A Question Too Close for Comfort 2026-10-17
27 Chapter 27: Where the Palace Refuses to Breathe 2026-10-17
28 Chapter 28: Chains Do Not Decide Who Belongs to the Sky 2026-10-17
29 Chapter 29: Of Gentle Lessons and Borrowed Breakfasts 2026-10-17
30 Chapter 30: Of Words Borrowed from Better Tongues 2026-10-17
31 Chapter 31: Lessons That Linger Longer Than Bells 2026-10-17
32 Chapter 32: Of Broken Porcelain and Borrowed Silence 2026-10-17
33 Chapter 33: Of Shadows, Commands, and Silent Defiance 2026-10-17
34 Chapter 34: Of Straw, Silence, and Small Mercies 2026-10-17
35 Chapter 35: Of Dust, Dung And Dignity 2026-10-17
36 Chapter 36: Of Silk, Scent, and Silent Triumphs 2026-10-17
37 Chapter 37: Of Courtesy, Blood, and the Shape of a Lie 2026-10-17
38 Chapter 38: Of Shadows Claimed and Histories Rewritten 2026-10-17
39 Chapter 39: Of Praise Bestowed and Mercy Postponed 2026-10-17
40 Chapter 40: Of Leather, Breath, and Dangerous Familiarity 2026-10-17
41 Chapter 41: Of Questionable Illnesses and Betraying Stomachs 2026-10-17
42 Chapter 42: Of Stubborn Kindness and Unwelcome Generosity 2026-10-17
43 Chapter 43: Of Dangerous Kindness and Unwanted Compliments 2026-10-17
44 Chapter 44: Of Curious Scents and Unspoken Questions 2026-10-17
45 Chapter 45: Of Wolves Beneath Noble Skies 2026-10-17
46 Chapter 46: Of Missing Garments and Unfortunate Encounters 2026-10-17
47 Chapter 47: Of Unfortunate Encounters and Missing Reason 2026-10-17
48 Chapter 48: Of Debts, Displeasure, and Delayed Decency 2026-10-17
49 Chapter 49: Perfume and Filth 2026-10-17
50 Chapter 50: A Shadow to the Moon 2026-10-17

Chapter 43: Of Curious Scents and Unspoken Questions

Lyria froze.

For one dreadful moment, the realization struck her with such sudden force that she nearly choked on the last crumb still dissolving on her tongue.

The linen in her hands was empty.

Completely empty.

Her fingers tightened slowly around the soft square of cloth as the full horror of the situation dawned upon her.

She had eaten everything.

Not one snack remained. Not one crumb. Not even the smallest smear of jam clung to the linen.

And she had done so while standing directly before a duke and an earl.

Lyria’s eyes widened in quiet alarm.

For a single breath she stood perfectly still, as though perhaps if she did not move, the reality of what had just occurred might somehow undo itself.

It did not.

A low chuckle broke the silence.

The sound came from the Duke. She was getting accustomed to the sound that she could identify it without being told explicitly who it came from.

Lyria’s head lifted instinctively.

The duke stood where he had been moments earlier, tall and relaxed, his gloved hands resting loosely behind his back. His expression held unmistakable amusement.

”Do not look so alarmed,” he said lightly.

Lyria’s face immediately flushed crimson.

”I—I beg your pardon, Your Grace,” she said quickly, dipping into a deep bow.

The duke’s eyes gleamed faintly.

”For all your earlier insistence,” he continued, ”it was rather obvious that you were hungry.”

Lord Hawthorne gave a small nod of agreement.

”Indeed,” he said thoughtfully. ”Your stomach’s... condition appears to have been rather serious.”

The duke gave another quiet chuckle.

Lyria wished, quite sincerely, that the earth might open beneath her feet.

”M-my apologies, Y-your Grace. My lord,” she said quickly, bowing again. ”I d-did not mean to... to eat so... so freely in your p-presence.”

Her voice had grown softer with embarrassment.

”I-It was most improper of m-me.”

She straightened only slightly before bowing once more.

”But I thank you b-both for y-your k-kindness,” she added sincerely. ”Y-your hospitality was... most g-generous.”

Neither man interrupted her.

Lyria did not dare look directly at them.

The linen trembled faintly in her hands before she hastily folded it again and held it out.

”M-my thanks,” she repeated quietly.

Lord Hawthorne waved the gesture away at once.

”You may keep the linen,” he said mildly.

Lyria blinked.

”Oh. N-no, my lord, I could not possibly—”

”Please,” the earl said simply.

Lyria hesitated, then she bowed once more.

”Then... t-t-thank you, my lord.”

There was a brief silence after that.

Lyria felt suddenly, acutely aware of their continued attention.

And with that awareness came the powerful urge to leave as quickly as possible before anything else unfortunate happened.

Without another word, she bowed deeply once more.

”I m-must return to my d-duties,” she said hurriedly.

And then she turned and hurried past them.

She moved with such speed that it could only be described as a dignified escape.

Within seconds she had vanished through the stable doors.

Neither man moved as silence descended between them.

Then the duke chuckled again.

His gaze lingered on the stable where Lyria had disappeared.

”She fled rather quickly,” he observed.

Lord Hawthorne exhaled a slow breath beside him.

”Yes.”

There was a beat of silence before the earl spoke again.

”We should have asked for her name,” he said regretfully.

The duke glanced sideways at him.

”Oh?”

Lord Hawthorne folded his arms thoughtfully.

”There was something...” he paused slightly, searching for the proper word, ”...pleasant about her.”

The duke raised one brow.

”Pleasant?”

”Yes.”

Hawthorne looked toward the stables again.

”There was something welcoming about her presence.” His brow furrowed faintly. ”And that scent.”

The duke made a quiet sound in the back of his throat, making Lord Hawthorne turn toward him.

”I truly believed she was wearing perfume,” he said, puzzled. ”The scent was so lovely I was certain it had to be as a result of perfume.”

The duke said nothing as the earl continued.

”It was warm,” the earl said thoughtfully. ”Inviting too.”

He looked toward the duke again.

”Truly, you did not perceive anything like what I have just described?” he asked.

The duke tilted his head slightly, a faint smile on his face.

”I did,” he said softly.

Lord Hawthorne stared at him in disbelief.

”You did?”

”Yes.”

”Then why,” the earl demanded slowly, ”did you pretend you could smell nothing but horses and hay?”

”Because,” the duke said calmly, ”she was clearly uncomfortable.”

”Really?” the earl asked him.

He had to admit he had not noticed any sign of discomfort from the servant when they had been speaking with her, especially when he spoke about her scent.

”Yes, Hawthorne,” Lord Thorncrest told him. ”For someone who grew up with six sisters, you always miss things like this.”

Hawthorne blushed deeply at that.

”I was rather taken by the scent that I failed to notice.”

”You need not apologize to me but to the servant,” Hawthorne told him. ”But I will admit, I was rather taken by her scent too.”

The duke’s tone was quieter now.

”It was welcoming... very much so.”

The earl nodded slowly.

”Yes.”

For a moment neither man spoke.

Then Hawthorne cleared his throat lightly.

”Well.” He adjusted the cuffs of his gloves.

”Shall we still go riding?”

The duke nodded once.

”Certainly.”

But then he added,

”Though perhaps not with horses. I would rather not spook a certain servant who has successfully run away from us,” Thorncrest said.

Hawthorne frowned.

”Then how do we go riding?” he asked the duke.

The duke had already begun walking away across the courtyard.

The earl hurried slightly to keep pace beside him.

”Your Grace?”

The duke did not answer immediately.

Hawthorne frowned deeper.

”Surely you do not mean—”

The duke rolled his eyes.

”Must I truly explain it?”

Hawthorne’s eyes suddenly widened.

”You mean—”

”Yes.”

The duke did not even glance at him.

”We shall go riding in wolf form,” he told Hawthorne.

The earl’s entire demeanor changed at once. His earlier composure vanished almost instantly, replaced with something far more boyish and excited.

”I would very much enjoy stretching my limbs,” Hawthorne said eagerly.

”Wouldn’t we all?” the duke asked him.

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