The Duke's Unwanted Second Wife

Eilika returned to the chamber, dismissing the servants with a curt nod before slipping into the quiet of the bedroom. Damian was already awake, his gaze fixed on her as she approached the bedside.

”How did you meet August?” he asked, his voice rough.

Eilika ignored the question, her focus entirely on him. ”How do you feel?” she asked, her voice fracturing. As she knelt beside the mattress, the composure she had fought to maintain shattered. Tears spilled over, hot and fast, tracing paths down her cheeks. ”Forgive me,” she sobbed, reaching out to hover her hand over his. ”You... you vomited blood. You fainted. It was all too much. It was because of me. If I hadn’t fed you that juice, it would not have happened.”

Damian’s heart wrenched at the sight of her broken state. Ignoring the lingering weakness in his limbs, he propped himself up on his elbows, intent on pulling her closer.

He wrapped his arm around her, drawing her close. ”Calm down,” Damian whispered, his hand soothingly caressing her back. ”I am fine. It wasn’t your fault.”

Eilika leaned into him, her sobs finally releasing the heavy, suffocating emotions she had held onto since he collapsed. After a long moment, she pulled back, the jagged edge of her breathing evening out. Damian reached up, gently wiping the remaining tears from her eyes and cheeks with his thumb.

She sniffled, offering him a weak, fleeting smile. ”I’m going to wash my face. I’ll be back.”

”Of course,” he murmured. Damian watched as she moved to the cupboard, retrieved a change of clothes, and disappeared into the washroom.

Inside the washroom, Eilika gripped the edge of the porcelain sink, splashing cold water against her face in a futile attempt to reduce the swelling around her eyes.

The reality remained unchanged: she had less than twenty-four hours to secure the second dose, draft the divorce papers, and vanish. It was a brutal price, but it was the only way to keep Damian shielded from the threats closing in on him. She dried her face, smoothed her nightclothes, and took a steadying breath before returning to the bedroom.

Damian remained propped against the headboard, waiting. His gaze immediately shifted to her, noting the lingering redness in her eyes and the exhaustion etched into her posture.

”Eilika, did you find any trace of that maid?” he asked, his voice low.

”No,” she replied. ”She vanished. It’s as if she never existed.” She walked to the bed and sat on the edge, keeping her distance to avoid his scrutiny.

”The cure required the Frost Lily,” she continued, pivoting to the necessary explanation. ”It only grows in the harshest winters. Sylvian told me that Prince August was the only one known to keep such rare specimens in his possession.”

She paused, careful to keep the narrative consistent with what she and Maurice had agreed upon. ”When we were trying to determine how to reach him, Maurice intervened. He said he knew where August was located and that you had been keeping the Prince under surveillance.”

Damian didn’t respond immediately. He realized then that Maurice had intentionally omitted the most critical detail: Liliana’s connection to August. For that, he was grateful to Maurice. He didn’t want Eilika to know about it yet.

”Damian, it never happened, right?” Eilika asked again. ”This level of danger... the poison... nothing like this has ever happened before, has it?”

”No,” Damian replied, his gaze sharp as he studied her profile. ”Such an assassination attempt has never occurred before. But that does not mean the previous threats were not deadly enough. Danger has always been the shadow cast by this title.”

Eilika turned her head toward the window, avoiding his steady eyes. She needed distance, a way to make her departure seem like a necessity rather than a betrayal. ”I don’t think I am good enough for you,” she said. ”I seem to bring nothing but turmoil and risk into this house.”

Damian’s brow furrowed, and he shifted on the bed, reaching out as if to physically anchor her. ”Why are you saying that? Eilika, look at me.”

”Maybe I’m just shaken,” she conceded, her voice steadying. ”We’ve faced risks before, but never anything like this. An assassination attempt... it’s a line I hadn’t realized we were so close to crossing.”

”I don’t blame you for any of this,” Damian said, reaching for her hand. ”And about earlier... When I woke up, I spoke a name. I don’t know why I called out ’Lily.’ It was instinct, not thought.”

”It’s fine,” she said, cutting him off before the admission could hurt more. ”It doesn’t matter. It’s late, and your body needs to recover. Please, try to sleep.”

”You should rest, too,” Damian countered, his thumb tracing her knuckles. ”You’ve exhausted yourself more than anyone else today,” Damian said, holding her gaze. ”And, Eilika... Thank you. I owe you my life, and I won’t forget it.”

”I didn’t do much,” Eilika deflected, shifting her focus away from him. ”Prince August provided the cure. Sylvian and Maurice were the ones who really handled the logistics.”

”They wouldn’t have been able to convince August on their own,” Damian countered, his brow furrowing as suspicion crept into his tone. ”You still haven’t explained how you persuaded him. He isn’t a charitable man, nor is he particularly helpful. What did it take to get him to agree?”

”It was simply a matter of finding the right words,” Eilika said, forcing her voice to remain level despite the frantic beating of her heart. ”I don’t know what transpired between you two in the past, but Prince August is not the monster you believe him to be. He showed a measure of kindness today. Please, when you see him in the morning, offer him your gratitude.”

Damian studied her for a moment, his gaze searching her features for the slightest crack in her composure. ”You do have a remarkable way with words,” he said finally.

He didn’t press further, not because he believed her, but because his body was still fighting the lingering exhaustion of the toxin. However, his mind remained sharp. The discrepancy between August’s cold reputation and Eilika’s account was too vast to ignore. He settled into the pillows, his decision made: he would wait until morning. He would confront August directly, and he would have the truth, one way or another.