The Duke's Unwanted Second Wife

”Your Grace, you could have called me to your office,” Count Elias began, a fake smile stretching across his lips. ”Why trouble yourself by coming all the way to my estate?” He gestured toward a servant, wordlessly instructing her to serve tea to both the Duke and his commander.

”Count Elias, I was already traveling through the district for a meeting with the farmers’ union. I thought it only right to stop by,” Damian replied smoothly.

”The farmers’ union?” Elias’s brow furrowed as he raised his cup. ”Surely Your Grace isn’t planning to lower their taxes? The crop yields have been exceptionally high this year; the treasury should be well-accounted for.”

”I agree,” Damian said, his smile sharpening. He looked at the steaming cup that had been placed before him but made no move to touch it. ”I’ve already had tea today, so I’ll pass.”

The rejection was subtle but clear. Damian leaned forward slightly. ”I would, however, like to see the ledger for this month’s revenue collection.”

”Of course.” Count Elias nodded to his attendant, who hurried off toward the study.

Moments later, the man returned with a thick red file. Elias slid it across the table toward Damian. ”I would suggest the Duke not trouble himself with such tedious matters in the future,” he added, his tone carrying a sharp edge of resentment. It was a clear indication that he viewed Damian’s presence as an intrusion.

”I have no desire to travel this far for trivialities, Elias,” Damian answered, rising to his feet with an imposing grace. Maurice stood instantly at his side. ”But some work is simply handled better at the ground level.”

Elias offered a stiff, low bow as the two men turned and walked out of the manor, leaving the count in doubt.

~~~

Damian settled into the leather seat of the car while Maurice gave the driver the signal to depart. As the Duke flipped open the red file to study the reports, the bodyguard’s voice cut through,

”Elias needs to be handled, and soon. Why don’t we simply eliminate the problem? Give the order, Your Grace, and I will finish him myself,” Maurice affirmed, his gaze fixed on the road ahead.

”That wouldn’t be wise, Maurice. Do you truly think I am incapable of that?” Damian asked without looking up, his eyes scanning the columns of figures.

”The way he spoke to you... It made my blood boil,” Maurice remarked, his jaw clenched.

”I want you to go to the revenue office and find someone trustworthy,” Damian stated, ignoring the emotional outburst. ”I cannot kill Elias for his insolence yet, not until I uncover the full extent of his web. He isn’t working alone.”

Maurice nodded, though his expression remained skeptical. ”How am I to find someone truly loyal in the revenue office, Your Grace? It could take days, even weeks, to find a soul who won’t betray us to the highest bidder.”

”Take as much time as you need. There is no rush. Matters of this nature require absolute patience,” Damian affirmed.

”This report likely contains discrepancies that even the higher-ups haven’t noticed. When I was in Netham, I saw that despite the fertile land, the people are struggling to survive. This isn’t just a matter of bad weather. Elias wants to weaken me so he can seize Varos for his own gain.”

Maurice hummed in understanding, driving the car as fast as he could.

The car slowed to a halt in the middle of the crowded market, pinned in by several carriers loading heavy carts. Amidst the noise of the bazaar, a young boy approached and knocked timidly on the rear window. Damian looked out, noting the boy’s hollow cheeks and frail frame.

”Maurice, lower the window,” Damian instructed.

”But Your Grace, your security could be breached this way,” Maurice countered, his hand hovering near his sidearm as his eyes scanned the surrounding rooftops.

”It is fine. The boy is only here to sell flowers and keyrings,” Damian replied, his tone brooking no argument.

Maurice sighed but complied, pressing the button to lower the glass.

”Sir, would you like to buy these flowers?” the boy asked, holding up a small, wilting bouquet.

”Hmm. How much for these?” Damian asked, his expression unreadable.

”One sheel, Sir,” the boy replied, his voice barely a whisper.

”I will take them,” Damian said. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a coin. As the boy passed the flowers through the gap, Damian pressed the coin into the child’s small, dirt-stained palm.

The boy’s eyes went wide as he looked down. ”Sir... it’s gold,” he whispered, his breath catching.

”Keep it,” Damian said simply.

Before the boy could offer a frantic thanks, Maurice had already raised the window and driven as the path cleared. Upon arriving at the mansion, Damian stepped out of the car.

”Take the car and proceed with the investigations,” Damian instructed Maurice before walking toward the grand entrance.

Inside, the mansion was a hive of activity. Servants were already arranging floral displays for the upcoming wedding. His gaze quickly found his mother and Eilika, who were huddled over a mahogany table strewn with guest lists and stationery.

”Son! My goodness, I am glad you are here,” Georgia exclaimed, her eyes bright with excitement. She lifted a heavy, cream-colored card from the table, the Kingsley crest embossed in gold at the top. ”What do you think of the invitation print?”

Damian barely glanced at the card. His eyes shifted to Eilika. ”Did Eilika like it?”

He stepped closer, revealing the small bouquet of market flowers he had been carrying. ”A boy was selling these on the road,” he said, his voice dropping to a softer register as he handed them to her. ”I thought it best to buy them.”

Eilika took the flowers, her fingers brushing against his. A look of genuine surprise crossed her face, seeing that he didn’t hesitate to buy the simple, wild blooms.

The Dowager Duchess beamed, a triumphant smile lighting up her face. Seeing her son finally making an effort, not just as a Duke fulfilling a duty, but as a husband attentive to his wife, was the greatest gift she could have received.

”They are beautiful, Damian,” Eilika murmured, tucked the small bouquet close.