The Duke's Unwanted Second Wife

After Sylvian departed for the capital, Damian turned to Samir, advising the exhausted messenger to rest at the estate until morning.

”Thank you, Your Grace, but I must return to the capital immediately,” Samir refused respectfully. ”I need to ensure from my own position that Prince August survives the night.”

”If you are determined to return, then change your course,” Damian commanded, his tone hardening. ”Go directly to Xavier’s private residence. Search his quarters and find any documentation, correspondence, or evidence that can support August’s claims. Though they must be already wiping such things, we can’t give up.”

Samir bowed low to the Duke and Duchess, accepting the order without another word.

Once they were alone, Eilika spoke with a growing anxiety. ”I never imagined such a thing could occur within the palace gates. To fire upon a prince under the King’s own nose...”

”August acted on impulse and drove himself straight into a trap,” Damian said, walking back to his desk. ”His temper has always been his undoing. His rage blinds him, and it forces his hand into fatal mistakes.”

”Prince August suffered from injustice and his first instinct must be to tell the King who killed his mother. For now, we ought to search Prince August’s chambers here,” Eilika suggested. ”He must have left some record or notes behind before he rode for the capital.”

”Yes. Let us look there,” Damian agreed, gesturing for her to lead the way.

Upon arriving at August’s quarters, they systematically began combing through the desk, bookshelves, and trunks. Minutes passed in quiet frustration until Damian paused by a heavy mahogany cabinet.

”Eilika, look at these papers,” he called out, his voice dropping an octave.

She closed the wardrobe door she had been inspecting and hurried over to his side. Damian spread the loose sheets across the writing table, his brow furrowed in disbelief. ”How did I miss this?” he murmured, his fingers tracing the ink.

”What do you mean?” Eilika asked, leaning over his shoulder in confusion.

”Look at the names circled here,” Damian pointed to the annotations on the old administrative reports. ”In the official files that were brought to my desk years ago, Xavier’s name was completely absent. Every document regarding the Varos investigation indicated that Alistair Spencer had no ties to anyone in the capital. But these records clearly show Alistair maintained a close friendship with Xavier for years.”

”Then the files you were given back then were deliberately altered,” Eilika realized, her eyes widening as she scanned the true ledger. ”Someone purged Xavier’s name before the reports ever reached you.”

”Louis always scrutinizes the files personally. I cannot believe an error like this occurred on his end,” Damian pronounced, his gaze fixed on the ink markings.

”Then perhaps it was done at the lower level,” Eilika asserted, leaning closer to the desk. ”Before you took over the investigation entirely, the magistrate’s office held the records. A clerk there could have been bribed to alter the names.”

”You are right,” he agreed, folding the documents carefully. ”We will bring these to the capital tomorrow. According to these dates, Xavier was spotted near the Spencer estate just a week before the massacre. If Samir’s account of the confession is true, Xavier must have gone there to warn Alistair before ordering the strike.”

Eilika watched him pack the papers away, her expression softening with profound pity. ”I feel bad for Prince August now. He once told me he was the villain in everyone’s story because people made him that way, the Queen most of all. But truly, the King bears the blame as well. He took a mistress and brought a son into this palace, only to leave that boy to bear the brunt of the Queen’s hatred, the public’s scorn, and the hostility of his own half-brothers. Even yours.”

”Yes, there was a time when I disliked him, though I never hated him,” Damian admitted. ”We cannot alter the circumstances of August’s birth, but we can help him secure a future of respect. If the truth of the Queen’s actions is brought to light, the atrocities August has suffered will finally have their answer.”

”I hope he survives. He deserves happiness too,” Eilika said softly, pressing her palms together in a silent prayer.

Damian watched her, deeply moved by her empathy for a man who had long been cast aside as an outcast. Following her lead, he brought his own hands together, imitating her gesture.

For years, the tragedies of his past had hardened his heart, but through her grace, he found himself beginning to believe in the presence of a higher power once again.

Gathering the scattered documents, they returned down the corridor to his study, where Damian secured the pages within a heavy leather file.

”I will keep this in my bedchamber for safekeeping,” he said, tucking the file securely under his arm.

”Very well. I ought to go and check on Roman,” Eilika asserted, her thoughts turning back to the child. ”He must be confused by the chaos and wanting answers about what occurred here earlier.”

”Go ahead,” Damian replied with a gentle nod. ”I will join you both upstairs shortly.”

Eilika gave him a slight bow and walked ahead, leaving him in his train of thoughts.

~~~~~

Within the private wing of the palace, King Nyxen had assembled the kingdom’s finest surgeons to tend to August’s wound.

Yet, hours had passed, and the bullet remained deeply embedded near the bone that left the King pacing the floor in silent anxiety.

”Father, the marksman who shot August has been secured in the dungeons,” Ciaran reported, stepping into the drawing room. ”During preliminary questioning, he claimed he fired entirely on an impulse.”

”Your Majesty, does your devotion to a mistress’s bastard truly blind you to reality?” Queen Victoria’s voice boomed through the chamber as she marched inside.

”He held a weapon to my brother’s throat! Xavier has already recounted how August threatened to slaughter him and his entire household. Why is this traitor receiving royal care when he should be left to bleed out on the stones?”

”Mother, please, control your temper,” Ciaran intervened, stepping between them.

”Stay out of this, Crown Prince,” Victoria snapped, turning a glare on her eldest son.

”In this kingdom, no voice is silenced until the full truth is laid bare,” King Nyxen stated as he locked eyes with his wife. ”So lower your voice in my presence, Victoria.”

”Lower my voice? For what reason? I will not permit that bastard to receive royal care under this roof! He must die for the blood he drew today. It is high treason against the Queen herself!” Victoria shrieked with unbridled fury.

King Nyxen rose to his feet at last, his towering frame casting a long shadow across the drawing room.

”You are not the sovereign of this kingdom,” Nyxen said. ”I alone will decide whether his actions constitute treason. Tell me, Victoria, are you incapable of showing a shred of humanity toward another human?”

Ciaran sensed the confrontation was taking a dangerous turn. With a subtle nod, he signaled the head valet standing near the door, prompting him to usher the remaining servants out of the drawing room.

”Your Majesty, humanity should be reserved for those who earn it,” Victoria declared, her voice trembling as anger gave way to deep-seated resentment. ”August carries the blood of the very woman who ruined my marriage. Must I remind you of the time August attempted to murder our eldest son? Seeing the depth of your devotion to him now... it makes my heart bleed.”

Her eyes started stinging because of the fresh tears brimmed in them.

Suddenly, the doors of the inner chamber swung open, and a nurse stepped out into the drawing room. ”Your Majesty, the bullet has been successfully removed. The bleeding has been stanched as well.”

”And what of his condition? Will he regain consciousness soon?” Nyxen demanded, taking a step forward.

Seizing the sudden break in the tension, Ciaran moved to his mother’s side and gently took her arm. ”Please, Mother, calm yourself,” he whispered. ”Come. Let me escort you back to your chambers.”

Placing a protective hand around the Queen’s shoulders, the Crown Prince guided her away from the drawing room, leaving the King alone to face the physicians.

”Your Majesty, I cannot say. The physicians are still managing his vitals,” the nurse replied with a nervous bow.

King Nyxen stepped across the threshold into the dimly lit bedchamber. Two doctors were working over the bed, carefully winding linen bandages around August’s pale chest.

”Your Majesty,” the senior physician murmured, noticing the King’s shadow. He turned and bowed low, lowering his blood-stained hands, which a nearby attendant quickly wiped with a fresh cloth.

”The wound itself has been thoroughly cleansed and dressed. However, Prince August’s breathing remains erratic. Tonight is critical for him. If his heart sustains him through the dark hours, he will wake with the morning sun.”

King Nyxen’s heart raced with a sudden fear. He had survived decades of political intrigue and war, yet the thought of losing August in this manner left him entirely undone.

Gazing down at the boy’s pale face and hollow features, the King felt his knees give way. He stumbled backward a step, causing the nearby physicians to instinctively reach out in alarm.

”I am fine,” Nyxen commanded, steadying himself against the edge of a timber post before their hands could touch his robes. ”Make certain a physician remains at his bedside every second of the night. Keep a constant eye on my son.”

Without waiting for their compliance, he turned on his heel and stepped out.