The Duke's Unwanted Second Wife

Eilika quickly wiped her eyes, though Georgia turned away, unable to bear the sight of the boy.

Roman spotted his father lying on the bed and surged forward, but before he could reach the bedside, Sylvian scooped him up. ”Your father is just very tired, Roman. He needs to rest for a while,” he whispered soothingly.

Roman craned his neck, trying to catch a glimpse of his father, but his view was blocked by the male staff clustered around the bed.

”I need to catch the maid who brought that juice,” Eilika declared, her voice hardening. She cast one last, agonized glance at Damian before slipping out of the room. Her heart was hammering against her ribs, but capturing the culprit was more important than her own fear.

As she reached the grand hall, she found the household staff lined up in tense, orderly rows.

”Your Grace! Is it true?” Maurice burst in, breathless. ”The guards are saying the Duke has been poisoned!”

”Yes,” Eilika said, her voice sharp with desperation. ”I asked for fresh orange juice, and after drinking it, he vomited blood. The physician is with him now, but I have to find the maid responsible. She must be here.”

Her gaze swept frantically across the staff, scanning every face, but to her horror, the woman was nowhere to be found.

”Has any maid left the premises this evening?” Eilika demanded, turning to the guard who had just confirmed the perimeter was secure.

”No, Your Grace,” he replied. ”I haven’t seen a single soul pass through the main gates.”

”How could this be possible? I can’t spot her here!” Eilika muttered, her breath hitching in her chest as she scanned the rows of terrified staff for the third time.

”Your Grace, I’ll bring Louis. We need to prepare a sketch,” Maurice said urgently.

”Sketch? I can do that,” Eilika declared, her voice steely despite her shaking hands. Joanna rushed forward, producing a notepad and a fountain pen from a nearby side table.

”It never happened before,” Maurice murmured to himself, his brow furrowed. ”What has the physician said? What’s the antidote?”

Eilika shook her head, the image of Damian clutching his throat flashing before her eyes. ”I don’t know. He—he said... he hasn’t seen anything like this.” Her lips quivered, a cold dread tightening around her chest.

She didn’t waste another second. She lowered herself onto the sofa, the paper trembling slightly against the table.

Her pen moved with precision, capturing the features that had haunted the kitchen. Fifteen minutes passed before she pushed the paper toward Maurice.

He took it, studying the lines. ”Head Lady, did you see this maid before?” Maurice inquired, holding the sketch up to the older woman.

The Head Lady peered at the drawing, her face turning pale. ”She started working here not long ago. A month, perhaps. But she wasn’t appointed for kitchen duty. She was assigned to the laundry sector.”

”What?” Maurice asked, glancing at Eilika.

”She was wearing the uniform of a kitchen servant. I clearly remember it,” Eilika replied, her voice trembling.

”Your Grace, please, you must calm down,” Maurice urged. ”I will handle the search. You need to return to the Duke; he needs you right now.”

Eilika nodded, barely holding herself together as she turned and hurried back upstairs. As she stepped into the bedroom, her breath hitched. The physician was speaking to Georgia.

”I have identified the toxin,” the physician said, his head bowed. ”It is called Sangrecha. There is a cure, but it is rare. We must administer it by the early morning before the sun rises, or I will not be able to save the Duke.”

Georgia swayed, her vision blurring, and Eilika rushed forward to support her from behind, steadying the older woman.

”Where can we find the cure? I will go get it,” Eilika stated.

”It is called the Frost Lily,” the physician replied. ”But it does not grow here. It is only accessible in the high, snow-covered mountains, Your Grace.”

”What is the nearest mountain range?” she murmured, her mind frantically tracing the local maps. ”The Kaikata Mountains.” She looked at the physician. ”It is a three-hour ride to reach the foothills. A round trip will take at least six to eight hours. If I leave now, is there any hope of finding the Frost Lily?”

The physician met her gaze, his expression grave. ”Your Grace, those peaks are the only natural habitat for such a plant. But it is summer; the flowers bloom only in the deepest cold. Finding one now would be nothing short of a miracle. It rests entirely on the Duke’s luck.”

”I know who already has that flower in their possession,” Sylvian interjected, his voice cutting through the tension.

Eilika spun around, her eyes wide with sudden, desperate hope. ”Who?”

”The Banished Prince,” Sylvian replied.

Eilika’s brow furrowed, confusion briefly clouding her urgency. ”What? Who is the Banished Prince? Speak clearly, Sylvian.”

”August Van Kingsley,” Sylvian explained, his eyes darkening as he recalled the name. ”But he holds a deep resentment for the throne, but his knowledge of botany and rare medicine is unmatched. If there is a man who can save Damian, it is him.”

”Where does he live? If he’s banished, he must be nowhere near the capital,” Eilika stated.

”I will beg him if I have to,” Georgia declared, stepping forward with newfound strength, her grief replaced by the terrifying resolve of a mother. ”My son must be saved at any cost. Even if I have to grovel at his feet, I will not let August’s resentment cost Damian his life.”

”Let’s not waste another second, Sylvian,” Eilika commanded. ”Prepare the fastest horses and a small, trusted guard. Mother, stay here and keep the physician focused. I will go to Prince August and make sure that flower is in my hands before the night is through.”

”Eilika, we will return after the sunrise. The physician has to make sure that Damian survived until then,” Sylvian pronounced.