The Duke's Unwanted Second Wife

”Aunt, why did you summon me for tea?” August asked as he finally took his seat across from her.

Georgia lifted the heavy porcelain teapot, expertly pouring the steaming brew into both of their cups. ”You have been shut inside your chamber since early morning. I simply thought Prince August might wish to share a afternoon tea with me.”

August murmured his thanks, carefully lifting the delicate teacup from its saucer.

”You did a tremendous favor for me, August. Saving the life of my son... that is something for which I will be forever grateful to you, Prince August,” Georgia stated, her expression softening with genuine emotion.

He offered a brief, respectful nod, taking another slow sip of the tea.

”I know I should not meddle in your personal affairs, but Prince August, you truly ought to consider marriage as well,” Georgia suggested gently, setting her own cup down.

”Who would willingly marry an illegitimate prince?” August chuckled, though the sound carried a distinct bitterness. ”But thank you for your concern, Aunt. I am perfectly fine on my own. I have no desire for companionship,” he asserted firmly, setting his cup aside.

Georgia did not press the matter further, choosing instead to push a silver platter forward. ”Take some cookies as well. Eilika baked them this morning before her departure.”

August picked one up and took a bite. Finding the pastry exceptionally delicious, he finished the rest just as the sound of familiar footsteps echoed in the corridor.

”Good evening, Aunt Georgia. It seems you two are enjoying tea without me,” Sylvian announced as he entered the parlor. He eased himself into the seat next to August, carefully placing a wrapped canvas onto the large wooden table.

”Good evening. Did Prince Sylvian venture out to acquire another painting?” Georgia remarked, eyeing the parcel. ”That explains why you were nowhere to be found in the residence today.”

She gestured to a nearby servant to serve the tea to Prince Sylvian, who had his eyes on August.

She gestured to a nearby servant to pour tea for Prince Sylvian, whose gaze remained fixed intently on August.

”Why did you not take your brother outside with you?” Georgia murmured, glancing between the two young men. ”Prince August has been confined to the residence the entire day.”

”August does not prefer to go anywhere with me, Aunt,” Sylvian replied, accepting the fresh cup from the attendant.

”Do not forget to mention that it is entirely because of your dear mother,” August remarked, his tone dripping with malice.

Sylvian lowered his teacup, his brow furrowing instantly. ”What did you say?”

”You heard me perfectly well,” August pronounced, leaning forward slightly. ”The Queen has never wanted me to accompany her sons anywhere. If jealousy has grown within me, it is thanks entirely to the grand machinations of your mother.”

”You would do well to remember how and when to speak, August,” Sylvian snapped. ”You are speaking against the queen of this kingdom.”

”Please, do not argue with each other,” Georgia interjected hurriedly. ”And Prince August, you must be far more careful when speaking of Her Majesty.”

”I am finished. Thank you, Aunt Georgia, for inviting me to join you for tea.” August rested his cup firmly on the saucer, stood up, and walked away without another word.

Sylvian shook his head, watching his brother’s departure with a cold gaze. ”Damian should not have permitted him to remain at this palace.”

”Prince Sylvian, he has created no trouble since his arrival,” Georgia suggested in a polite tone. ”If anything, he has only been helpful to us. You ought to try softening your heart toward him.”

”Aunt, one only does that for a person who wishes to be understood,” Sylvian said, his frown deepening. ”But August... He is simply not that kind of man.”

~~~~~~

Louis clapped enthusiastically alongside the gathering crowd as the puppet performance came to an end. When the young boy acting as the collector walked through the circle with a hat held out, Louis dropped a handful of coins into it.

”That was a remarkably fine performance,” he murmured to himself, watching the puppeteer pack up his stage.

Louis had always found a peculiar solace in roaming the bustling night markets on weekends, losing himself in the bright lanterns and noisy commerce.

As he continued down the crowded thoroughfare, his casual gaze sharpened. Just a few paces ahead, standing before a confectioner’s stall, was Elodie, quietly purchasing a candy stick for herself.

Louis stepped closer to her, a smile lifting the corners of his lips. ”Miss Elodie, you have also come to enjoy the night market, it seems.”

Elodie turned around quickly at the sound of his voice. Recognizing him, she immediately lowered her head in a proper, respectful bow. ”Your Highness.”

”Is the confection to your liking?” he asked, gesturing slightly to the treat in her hand.

”It is rather sour, but I like it,” Elodie replied honestly. She cast a brief, anxious glance at the passing crowd, acutely aware of her surroundings and not wanting the townspeople to grow suspicious over why a prince was interacting with her. ”If you will excuse me, I shall take my leave.”

”Miss Elodie, have the debtors caused you any further trouble?” Louis inquired, stepping into her path to delay her departure just slightly.

”Not since you helped me out. Thank you once again for your intervention,” Elodie answered, keeping her voice low. ”And please, forgive me for my conduct the other day when I used you as a shield. I acted with terrible rudeness.”

”It is entirely forgotten. I did not take offense,” Louis assured her.

”Lord Wellington! What brings you to this part of the town? Oh, have you brought your lady along for the evening?” A boisterous shout broke through the market din as a small group of officials approached them, their eyes gleaming with curiosity.

Elodie furrowed her brows together while Louis turned to look at them.

”Shall we introduce ourselves?” One of them said, stepping forward to take a glance at Elodie when Louis stepped in between them.

”Charles, go back to the same path from where you’ve come,” Louis warned, his gaze turning deadly.