The Duke's Unwanted Second Wife

”Prince Sylvian, why are you not eating?” Louis asked, glancing at the plate that still held most of its food. ”What is troubling Your Highness?”

”I received a letter this morning from my mother,” Sylvian began, his voice heavy. ”She demands that I return to the capital. I have no desire to go back.”

Louis looked at him in confusion. ”Your Highness, the capital is your home. Sooner or later, you must return,” he affirmed gently.

”The palace is a suffocating place,” Sylvian mumbled, staring down at his untouched meal. ”I cannot survive within those walls, not when I have spent my life accustomed to freedom. And my mother wishes for me to marry. She has been pursuing the matter for quite some time now. I have resisted her attempts so far, but I do not know how much longer I can maintain this stance.”

He paused as the screech of chairs drew his attention. A noble couple sitting across from their table stood up and headed out of the restaurant. Waiting until they were well out of earshot, Sylvian lowered his voice and continued, ”I know the noble ladies of the capital all too well. They are all same, driven entirely by the same ambitions.”

Sighing, he finally began to eat, while Louis watched him in silent sympathy. Once they had finished their meal, Louis signaled the waiter to clear the table. He then picked up his remaining glass of water, took a long sip, and set it down before addressing the prince once more.

”Your Highness, if I may offer some counsel, do not simply run away from this predicament,” Louis said quietly. ”I believe you came to Varos in search of genuine love. If that is so, then you must make every effort to find it here. Otherwise, you will inevitably be forced to marry a woman of your mother’s choosing.”

”And how am I supposed to achieve that?” Sylvian countered, leaning back heavily against his chair. ”Even here in Varos, women who approaches me is driven by the ambition to become a prince’s bride. But you speak the truth, Louis, I cannot run from this forever.”

”Has Your Highness ever cross paths with women from ordinary, working-class backgrounds?” Louis inquired, keeping his tone hushed.

”No,” Sylvian answered. ”They actively avoid speaking with me because of my status. You know how strictly social circles are guarded. Besides, I cannot risk bringing unwanted trouble or scrutiny upon them simply by being seen engaging with them.”

”Well, then you need to trust the Queen’s judgement. If you can’t approach anyone, then it’s impossible for you to find anyone of your liking. Moreover, the royalty will never accept any woman from an ordinary background. Not all noble women are bad. You are generalizing them because you only have met such women only,” Louis gave him a detailed advise.

”Hmm. I believe I truly must return to the capital,” Sylvian stated, a trace of resignation in his voice. ”I cannot allow Damian to face my mother’s wrath for keeping me here. She would not hesitate to dispatch an envoy to deliver a scathing address to him.”

”The Duke and Duchess are scheduled to journey to the Northern Territory next month,” Louis opined. ”You could travel alongside them under their escort. Perhaps you should write to the Queen Mother and inform her that you will begin your journey back next week.”

”Why are Damian and Eilika traveling North?” Sylvian inquired, his curiosity piqued.

”Official state business, of course,” Louis pronounced, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. ”Though the Duke requested his wife’s company this time. It seems the two of them have grown exceptionally close.”

”It’s good to see them growing together. Damian has suffered a lot during these five years,” Sylvian said. ”Well, now, I’ve to think about my life. It can change drastically soon,” he said with a sigh.

~~~~~

The motorcar’s engine suddenly sputtered and died right in the middle of the desolate road, forcing Damian to step out quickly to investigate. He pulled up the metal bonnet and saw steam rising from the severely overheated engine. He called Eilika out, who hurried to his side, asking in confusion, ”What happened?”

She reached forward, instinctively about to touch the scorching engine block, when Damian caught her hand just in time.

”Careful. It is hot,” he murmured, keeping a firm grip on her hand to pull her back. ”The mechanism is broken. We cannot proceed further in this vehicle.”

”What? Your Grace, we are in the middle of nowhere,” Eilika said, feeling panicked as she looked around the empty landscape. ”I told you we should have permitted Maurice to accompany us when he insisted upon it.”

”Calm yourself,” Damian told her, his voice steady and grounded. ”There is a village not far from here. We can walk there and secure a carriage.”

”And what of our safety? You are no ordinary man, Damian,” Eilika argued, her anxiety growing.

Before he could answer, a crack of thunder echoed across the plains. She looked up, her brows knitting together in dismay as dark clouds rapidly gathered to swallow the remaining daylight.

”Why has the weather turned so suddenly?” she murmured, looking up at the darkening sky.

Damian slammed the bonnet shut and leaned inside the vehicle to retrieve his leather wallet. After securing the motorcar doors from the outside, he returned to her side.

”Let us move quickly before the downpour begins,” he said.

”Are you certain you know the way?” Eilika asked, pulling her cloak tighter around herself.

”Yes. This region is well-known for its vast paddy fields. We shall see them once we travel a short distance ahead,” he assured her.

”You do not feel inconvenienced by this, do you? I am accustomed to such rustic places, but I worry for your comfort,” Eilika said, searching his face.

”I know. It was meant to be a pleasant day out for us,” Damian replied, offering her a reassuring smile. ”And as for my safety, do not be anxious. I am carrying a weapon.”

Eilika tilted her head, her curiosity piqued. ”What sort of weapon?”

”A pistol,” Damian answered simply.

”Oh. But such weapons are usually carried by dangerous men,” Eilika pronounced softly.

”Not everyone is permitted to carry firearms,” Damian explained calmly. ”Our guards and forces actively regulate them, which is why weapon-related violence is exceedingly rare compared to other offenses.”

He stopped mid-sentence as a drop of rain fell directly onto his forehead. Before he could speak further, the distinct sound of approaching hooves caught their attention, and they both turned to look down the road.

Instead of a horse, a wooden bullock cart emerged from the gloom, its driver halting the bull the moment he spotted them. Recognizing the noble couple, the man quickly scrambled down from the cart and bowed deeply.

”Your Graces! What are you two doing out on these village roads?” he asked, his eyes widening as he realized they were entirely without a royal escort.

”Our motorcar’s engine unexpectedly failed,” Damian explained, keeping his posture composed. ”We were heading toward the village in hopes of finding assistance. If a suitable carriage can be arranged, we can return to the estate.”

”Of course! I shall fetch a proper horse-drawn carriage immediately. I work as a chauffeur in the central district, so I can secure one quickly,” the man pronounced eagerly. He then glanced back at his current rustic transport. ”However, the Duke and Duchess must wait here until I return. This old cart will not travel far or fast enough.”

Suddenly, the light drizzle turned into a downpour.

”Your Graces, please climb into the back of the cart to shield yourselves! I shall return with all haste!” the man shouted over the rising wind, before turning and sprinting down the path in the direction he had come.

Damian and Eilika hurried into the back of the cart, their clothes already damp from the sudden downpour. As they settled beneath the small wooden canopy, Eilika noticed the bull standing out in the open, completely exposed to the rain. Without a word, she moved forward toward the exposed driver’s bench.

”Where are you going?” Damian asked, reaching out to stop her.

”I must move the cart under shelter. Perhaps beneath that large tree, so the bull does not fall ill from the freezing rain,” she affirmed resolutely.

Taking hold of the leather reins, she expertly signaled the animal, guiding the bull smoothly toward the canopy of a big oak tree nearby. Damian watched her in utter astonishment; maneuvering a stubborn bullock cart required immense strength and skill, yet Eilika handled it with effortless grace.

Eilika let go of the reins and turned back toward him. ”Now, we can wait in peace.”

”You are truly amazing, Eilika,” Damian remarked softly, causing a sudden flush of crimson to hit her cheeks.

He slid closer to her on the bench, and she instinctively leaned into his space. Pulling a crisp handkerchief from the inner pocket of his heavy overcoat, he gently began to wipe away the stray raindrops clinging to her face.