The Duke's Unwanted Second Wife

Damian and Eilika waited for nearly an hour before the chauffeur finally returned with a proper horse-drawn carriage. The heavy rain had slowed to a halt by then, and the man immediately began bowing and offering hurried apologies for his delay.

”We understand that the downpour was severe, making travel difficult for you,” Damian said smoothly, raising a hand to dismiss the man’s anxiety.

The chauffeur nodded gratefully, then glanced toward the oak tree. ”Did His Grace drive the cart into the shelter of the branches?”

”No, my wife did,” Damian explained, a touch of pride in his voice. ”She was concerned the bull might fall ill from the storm, so she took the reins and guided it beneath the tree.”

”Oh, that is truly miraculous, Your Grace! Diamond does not listen to a single soul besides me,” the man pronounced, shaking his head in disbelief.

”You have named your bull Diamond?!” Damian looked quite surprised, a chuckle escaping his lips as he glanced back at the bull.

”Yes. He is like a son to me. He has helped me immensely with the field work and also carries all our heavy loads,” the man answered warmly. ”If Your Graces will permit me just a few moments, I shall return right away.”

”Of course,” Damian replied.

They both watched as the man hurried back toward the old wooden cart. He tenderly caressed Diamond’s broad face, whispering a few soft, affectionate words directly into the animal’s ear.

”Usually, bulls can be quite intimidating,” Damian observed, watching the interaction.

”Not when you treat them as part of your family,” Eilika replied softly. ”Animals only become defensive when they sense they are in danger of being harmed. You know that as well as I do, Damian.”

”Yes, I suppose I do,” Damian agreed. He then paused, noticing a sudden movement. ”Oh, look—the cart is already moving. Where is his Diamond going on his own?”

”Probably heading back home to the barn,” Eilika replied with a gentle smile.

The chauffeur quickly jogged back to them, bowing slightly. ”Everything is settled. We may depart now, if it pleases Your Graces. Please, step into the carriage.”

Both Eilika and Damian climbed into the dry, cushioned interior of the carriage. The driver handled the reins expertly, navigating the horses carefully through the mud and uneven, stony paths before finally bringing them out onto the smooth surface of the main road.

As they traveled, Eilika parted the small curtains and looked out of the window, catching sight of their stalled motorcar abandoned by the wayside.

”Do not worry, I shall dispatch a team of mechanics later to retrieve and repair it,” Damian noted, following her gaze.

Satisfied, Eilika let the curtain fall back into place, sealing them into the quiet warmth of the carriage. She saw Damian didn’t look happy but he wasn’t either vocal about it.

”I know you want to make me feel loved. You were looking forward to today’s outing so much, so please do not be upset by this turn of events,” Eilika began, turning her gaze toward him.

”More than the outing itself, I was simply excited to spend uninterrupted time with you,” Damian asserted, revealing his innermost thoughts. ”I am not upset in the slightest. If anything, this day has made me realize how little I know about you. Yet, being by your side brings me a kind of comfort.”

Suddenly, the carriage hit a deep rut in the road, sending a violent jerk through the compartment. Damian reacted instantly, reaching out to grip her arms and steady her before she could slide from her seat.

”Sit here,” he said softly, gesturing to the empty space right next to him.

”I am perfectly fine here,” Eilika replied, offering a reassuring smile as she had regained her balance.

~~~~

Sylvian remained inside the wooden gazebo built upon the small hilltop, waiting patiently for the storm to pass.

Earlier that afternoon, he had decided to journey to the eastern district of Varos, a short distance that took only an hour by horse. He had not anticipated getting stranded by such a sudden downpour.

”I wonder when this rain will finally cease,” he murmured to himself, stepping back toward the stone bench. His sketchbook lay open upon it, and he picked it up carefully.

He had spent the earlier hours drawing a detailed sketch of the panoramic view from the hill, and he quietly examined his handiwork.

”Your Highness! What are you doing out here?” Iliana asked, her voice filled with genuine surprise as she hurried into the shelter of the gazebo, her dress already half-drenched from the rainw. She then placed her hand on her chest while taking deep breaths.

Sylvian rose to his feet and said, ”I believe I shall ask the very same question of you, My Lady.”

He watched her lean against one of the wooden pillars, still breathlessly recovering from her dash up the hill. As she did, his eyes briefly fell upon her damp chest, where the wet fabric of her dress had turned entirely translucent. Shifting his gaze away, he swiftly unbuttoned his overcoat and extended it toward her.

”You should cover yourself with this,” Sylvian said politely.

”Uh?” Iliana looked down at herself, a wave of heat rushing to her cheeks as she realized her state. She quickly snatched the overcoat from his hands and draped it over her shoulders. ”Thank you.”

She immediately turned her back toward him, mortified. She found herself wondering why she had even ran up to this hilltop in the first place; she should have fled toward her aunt’s house on the opposite side of the valley, even if it meant becoming completely soaked.

As she pulled the garment tighter around her frame, a soft scent of sandalwood radiated from the fabric, filling her nostrils and warming her against the chill.

”You still have not answered me,” Sylvian noted, stepping forward to stand right beside her.

”I came out this way to purchase some farm-fresh berries, entirely unaware that the weather would turn so suddenly,” Iliana replied. ”But whatever is a prince doing out here?” She turned to look at him, her eyes squinting slightly in suspicion. Her gaze then drifted to the stone bench, landing on the open sketchbook. ”Does Your Highness paint and sketch as well?”

”Yes, during my leisure hours,” Sylvian replied. ”A close friend of mine suggested I visit this hilltop to gather some artistic inspiration.”

”This landscape is beautiful, without a doubt,” Iliana agreed, turning her attention back to the panoramic view. ”Those vast fields stretching over there... the local farmers cultivate all varieties of berries in them.”

Overcome by enthusiasm, she instinctively caught his hand, entirely unaware of the breach in protocol, and pulled him toward the opposite side of the gazebo.

”Look over there. Can you see the giant waterwheel? It is used to grind grain into flour. I travel here once a week for our household supplies because everything in this district is so fresh.”

Sylvian did not look toward the horizon. Instead, his gaze dropped to her hand wrapping tightly around his, before slowly rising to study the bright expression on her face.

”Does Your Highness—” She cut herself off mid-sentence as she realized his gaze was completely fixated on her face. Iliana then became acutely aware of the warmth of his hand still clasped firmly in hers. Gasping softly, she quickly pulled her hand back, her face burning with embarrassment.

Standing before him with her head bowed low, she stammered her apologies. ”Forgive me for acting so brazenly, Your Highness. Please, do not punish me. I merely grew overexcited, thinking that you might not have seen...”

She paused, the words dying in her throat as a low, genuine laugh escaped Sylvian’s lips.

Iliana looked up, her brow furrowing as she gazed at him in utter bewilderment.

”You need not worry, Miss Iliana. I merely found your sudden panic rather amusing. No one is ever punished for simply holding my hand,” Sylvian replied, a warm smile gracing his features. ”Please, relax yourself.”

Iliana felt relieved at his words. ”This region truly is beautiful to explore. Had it not been raining, I might have shown Your Highness around the grounds properly.” She suddenly caught herself, her eyes widening in horror as she lightly slapped a hand over her mouth. ”That is to say the Prince likely rarely has the occasion to visit such rustic places! I do not harbor any improper intentions, if you were thinking that,” she added in a frantic rush, desperate to clear her stance.

”No, I thought no such thing,” Sylvian opined, his smile widening at her earnestness. ”In fact, perhaps you truly can grant me a tour of the district once the rain finally stops.”

”I would be honored, but only if Your Highness will not be delayed. It is already evening,” Iliana replied, casting a worried glance at the fading light. ”You must return to the place where you are staying. But the rain shows no signs of stopping.”

”What about tomorrow?” Sylvian asked, his gaze fixed on her.