The Duke's Unwanted Second Wife

”Roman, go on and keep playing, alright? I need to speak with your father inside,” Eilika told the boy. Roman beamed at them both before darting off toward the gardens again.

Once they reached the privacy of their bedroom, Eilika moved gracefully to the cupboard, pulling out a set of fresh clothes and a soft towel for Damian. She set the basket of flowers on the round table, her eyes filled with a lingering curiosity as she turned back to him.

”What were you doing out there for so long after we left?” she asked.

”Nothing. Just exploring the layout of the market,” Damian lied. He kept his expression neutral; there was no need to burden her with the image of him ending that man’s life in a dark corner of the building.

”Did you see how that creepy man was looking at us? At the children?” Eilika’s voice hardened. ”I felt like tearing his eyes out myself. I truly wish I could have. When we finally bust that entire operation, I intend to demand a punishment just as severe.”

A smile touched Damian’s lips as he took the clothes from her. Her hidden ferocity was as unexpected as it was captivating. ”And here I thought you were the kind one,” he remarked, turning toward the bathroom.

”Not to men like that,” Eilika countered instantly, her indignation fueling her steps as she followed right behind him.

Damian stepped into the bathroom and suddenly spun around, arching an eyebrow. He stood in the doorway, blocking her path as a teasing glint entered his eyes. ”Why are you in here? Don’t tell me you’ve decided you want to wash me up?”

”No!” Eilika gasped, her face flushing a deep crimson. ”I—I didn’t realize I had followed you in!”

She spun on her heel to flee, but Damian was faster. He stepped forward, the bathroom door swinging shut behind her with a soft thud. Suddenly, the space felt much smaller, and Eilika found herself trapped between the door and the Duke.

”Don’t act innocent,” Damian murmured. ”You do want something to happen between us, don’t you?”

”I didn’t think that,” Eilika countered, though her heart hammered against her ribs. She refused to look away, meeting his intense gaze with a defiant spark of her own.

She reached back to turn the handle, but Damian’s hand remained clamped firmly against the wood, his strength making the door feel like an unmovable part of the wall. He stepped closer, his shadow completely enveloping her.

”Eilika, forgive me.”

The sudden apology caught her off guard, the confusion pulling a soft gasp from her lips. ”Forgive you? For what?”

”I should have pulled out the eyes of that man who made you feel uncomfortable,” he said. ”As your husband, it is my duty to ensure you never feel uneasy or threatened. I failed in that moment by letting him even look at you.”

He leaned in, his gaze burning into hers with a promise. ”But I assure you, you will never have to see that man again. Not in this life.”

Before she could process his words or ask exactly what he meant by such a final statement, Damian reached past her and pulled the door open. He gently steered her out of the room.

Before Eilika could even find her voice to question him, the door clicked shut between them, leaving her standing alone in the bedroom.

A smile played on Eilika’s lips as she stood alone in the quiet of the bedroom. ”Why do I feel there’s a certain improvement in our relationship?” she murmured to the empty room.

She turned her attention to the basket, her fingers grazing the browning petals. They were thirsty, not dead. With careful hands, she transferred them into a porcelain vase, pruning the spent leaves and arranging them with fresh blooms she had gathered earlier.

~~~~

Later, Damian stepped out of the bathroom, steam curling behind him as he vigorously rubbed a towel through his damp hair. He stopped short when his gaze landed on the round table.

The withered flowers he had bought out of pity looked alive suddenly. Eilika had woven them into a lush arrangement of radiant lilies and greens; tucked into the fresh water.

He lowered the towel onto the back of a chair. Roman’s high-pitched, excited voice echoed through the corridor, followed by the frantic patter of small feet.

”Father! Father, are you out yet?” Roman shouted, the sound growing louder as he approached the bedroom door.

”Yes, Roman?” Damian turned around, finding him in newer clothes.

”Father, I saw five boys in the living room,” Roman said. He shuffled toward Damian, clutching a soft toy against his chest as if for protection. ”Who are they? Mother is spending all her time looking after them. I feel... upset. Mama should love me more.”

Damian’s heart heavy with a sudden surge of empathy, he lowered himself to his knees until he was eye-level with his son. He reached out, his hand gently caressing Roman’s hair to soothe him.

”Of course she loves you, Roman. But those five boys... they have been through a terrible ordeal.”

”Who are they, Father?” Roman asked again, his knuckles whitening as his grip on the toy tightened.

”I have yet to learn all their names,” Damian admitted softly. ”But you must understand, Roman, they are like brothers who were cruelly taken from their families. That is why your mother is focusing her heart on them right now; they have no one else. But you know how much Eilika treasures you. You are her son.”

As he spoke, Damian sensed a deeper, more trembling fear beneath the boy’s jealousy. Roman kept his gaze fixed on the floor, his voice dropping to a vulnerable whisper. ”I don’t want my mother to leave me. I heard... I heard that my first mother passed away. I don’t want to lose Mama, too.”

A sharp pain flared in his chest, realizing the depth of the trauma his son carried in silence. He pulled Roman into a fierce, protective embrace, unable to find the words to bridge the ache of their shared past.

At that very moment, Eilika stepped into the room, coming to a sudden halt. The sight of Damian kneeling on the floor with tears in his eyes as he clung to his son which bewildered her.