The Duke's Unwanted Second Wife

Eilika carefully placed the storybook onto the shelf before switching off the lamp and making her way toward her chamber.

As she sat down at her vanity, Joanna walked in, carrying a tray.

”What is this?” Eilika asked, unfastening her earrings and setting them on the bedside table.

”Isn’t the Duke here yet?” Joanna inquired, her eyes scanning the room. ”The Dowager Duchess instructed me to bring this. She said the drink is medicinal and insisted that both of you should have some.”

”Damian... I believe he is still working,” Eilika answered, her brow furrowing slightly at the sight of the tray. ”What kind of medicinal drink is this?” Her curiosity piqued as she held the silver glass.

”I do not know. Perhaps it is intended to boost the Duke’s immunity, especially since he was poisoned recently. The Dowager Duchess may want you to have the same to stay in good health,” Joanna murmured, placing the tray down.

”Alright. You may leave the tray here. If Damian comes by, I will ask him to drink it,” Eilika replied, completely unaware that the liquid contained the potent aphrodisiac Lady Charlotte had provided earlier.

Joanna bowed and departed, leaving Eilika alone with the two glasses. Curious, Eilika reached out and took the first sip, immediately frowning as the flavor hit her palate. It tasted distinctly odd. It appeared a strange mix of sweet and sour.

”What exactly is this drink?” she murmured to herself, peering suspiciously at the pale liquid in the glass. But because it tasted good, she again sipped more until she finished it whole.

The effects of the concoction took hold with unsettling speed. Within moments, a prickling warmth began to spread through Eilika’s limbs, a sensation that quickly deepened into a heavy, insistent heat. The fine fabric of her nightgown, usually comfortable against her skin, suddenly felt abrasive, causing her to shift uncomfortably as her pulse quickened.

Fanned by a mounting restlessness, she stood and paced to the balcony, hoping the night air would temper the feverish rise in her temperature.

She leaned heavily against the cold stone of the balustrade. A strange smile began to tug at the corners of her lips, a reaction entirely unbidden by her thoughts.

Her perception shifted, the world beginning to tilt for her.

She peered down into the darkness of the courtyard, bracing her weight against the stone to gauge the drop.

”Why does the ground look so distant?” she mumbled, her words slurring slightly. The depth of the drop seemed to stretch, the distance distorting as the fog deepened in her mind.

She let out a soft, hazy chuckle and began to climb onto the stone ledge of the balustrade. The movement was unsteady, her coordination failing her, when a sharp, desperate shout cut through the night air.

”Eilika!”

She jolted, her balance wavering as a pair of hands lunged for her. Damian was upon her in an instant as he hauled her back from the edge.

He pulled her flush against his chest, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he lowered her onto the firm floor of the balcony.

”What were you thinking? Why were you climbing up there?” He demanded with panic. A cold dread settled in his gut; he wondered if she had reached a breaking point, if his distance had driven her to such an act.

”Damian,” she breathed, her voice dipping into a cadence he did not recognize. She wound her arms around his waist, pressing her face into his shirt. ”You smell so good. You always do. Did I ever tell you?” She tilted her head back, her eyes glassy and unfocused as she searched his face.

”No, you never did,” Damian replied, his grip on her shoulders tightening as he searched her gaze for answers. ”Why are you speaking like this? And what in God’s name were you trying to do?”

”The ground... it looked so far away,” she murmured, her head dropping back to his chest. Her tone shifted into a petulant whine. ”Don’t scold me. I don’t like it when you scold me. I am not a child; I am a grown woman.”

”Alright, I hear you,” he said, his frustration mounting alongside his concern. ”But step back. Let me go, and let us get you inside.” He pressed his palms against her shoulders to create distance, but she clung to him with a persistent strength, refusing to budge.

”No. You never let me embrace you, and the room is hot,” she insisted. Her hands traced the fabric of his coat. ”You possess the taut chest they always describe in the stories.” She pressed her ear firmly against the center of his chest, listening; his heart rhythm was steady and calm.

Eilika shifted her hand to her own chest, a sudden realization cutting through her fog. Her heart was beating frantically.

’He does not like me, let alone love me,’ she thought. She pulled away from him, her pride bruising under the force of her own vulnerability.

She turned and retreated toward the bedchamber, her gait erratic. Damian watched her go, his brow furrowing as he noted the way her feet caught on the floorboards; she was stumbling, moving as if she got intoxicated.

Eilika perched on the edge of the bed. She began to speak, her voice trailing into the quiet chamber. ”The last time I sat with the noblewomen, they boasted incessantly of how their husbands doted on them.” She fidgeted with her fingers, her gaze fixed stubbornly on her lap.

”We shared one kiss after two months,” she continued, a faint, wry smile touching her lips. ”I understand. I know you do not love me yet, and that we have a long road ahead.” She let out a soft, hazy chuckle that sounded hollow in the stillness. ”I wonder if I am being selfish to crave that love. Yet, even without it, you have given me a family. A mother-in-law who treats me as her own, and a son. Even friends who watch over me like brothers.”

She lifted her head, her eyes glassy and unfocused as she looked at him, a gentle smile curling her lips.

”I do not want to make you uncomfortable,” she whispered. ”Just... try to see my heart, too.”