The Duke's Unwanted Second Wife

Sylvian stepped out of the motor car, the vehicle’s engine cutting out into the damp night air. It was close to the midnight hour, and he hurried inside the palace. Most of the long corridors had already fallen into a silence.

”Your Highness, what are you doing in the palace at this hour?” a servant asked, hurrying toward him. The young man was carefully carrying a ceramic jar toward August’s wing.

”How is Prince August? Has he regained consciousness?” Sylvian inquired.

”Not yet, Your Highness. Prince August remains in a critical condition for now,” the servant replied, lowering his gaze. ”As for the rest, only the physicians know.”

Sylvian nodded, and followed the servant down the dimly lit corridors toward the royal wing. Reaching the drawing room outside August’s bedchamber, he stopped. His father was sitting on the velvet couch, and his face carrying an expression of deep worry.

”Father,” Sylvian whispered, stepping into the room.

King Nyxen looked up, a shock piercing through his exhausted gaze. ”When did you return to the palace?”

”Just a few moments ago, Father,” Sylvian replied softly, walking over to stand beside him. ”Why don’t you head to your chambers and rest? I will stay the night here and watch over him.”

”I cannot go,” King Nyxen stated. ”I will not leave his side tonight.”

Sylvian suddenly wondered why the servant had walked into the chamber with a jar of water when August was still unconscious. ”Father, I’ll be back in a minute,” he murmured.

Walking into the inner room, he froze as he saw the servant tilting a glass close to August’s unmoving lips.

”Stop right there! Where are the physicians?” Sylvian questioned, striding forward and snatching the glass from the man’s hands.

”The chief physician told me to administer the medicine with water after an hour had passed,” the servant stammered, shrinking back. ”I was only doing as I was instructed, Your Highness.”

”Did you taste the water or the medicine before attempting to give it to August?” Sylvian demanded, his eyes narrowing.

The servant shook his head quickly, keeping his gaze glued to the floor in silence. The servant took a sharp glance and saw Sylvian raising the glass to his own lips.

”Your Highness, you cannot ingest that medicine,” he stated, his voice suddenly losing its submissive edge.

”Why?” Sylvian frowned, pausing. ”I intend to take only a single sip.”

”Your Highness, you could suffer any side effects. That is the only reason. If you insist, I can test it myself in front of you,” the servant stated, already lifting a silver spoon from the bedside tray.

”That is not needed,” Sylvian said, ignoring the warning, and brought the glass back to his lips.

Just then, the man disguised as a servant struck out, hitting Sylvian’s wrist sharply with the edge of the spoon. Sylvian yelped in pain, his grip loosening, and the glass began to fall.

Sylvian’s reflexes acted at the right time and managed to snatch the glass before it met the floor. He whipped his head around toward the servant, only to find the man already sprinting toward the open balcony.

Sylvian ran after him, tearing through the velvet curtains, but reached the stone railing just as the man jumped below.

Because of the darkness, Sylvian couldn’t see further than a meter. He hurried back inside and placed the glass safely on the table which he intend to send for a test later.

’Did Mother really try to kill August tonight?’ he thought.

Just then, the senior doctor walked back into the chamber to check August’s vitals. He placed two fingers against his pale wrist and listened closely to his chest, noting that while the pulse remained low, the heartbeat had grown steadier since the midnight hour.

”Will he be fine?” Sylvian asked.

Before the doctor could reply, King Nyxen walked into the bedroom.

”Your Majesty, I have good news. Prince August’s heartbeat has grown steadier,” the physician replied with a reassuring bow. ”I am hopeful that Prince August will be awake by the morning.”

Nyxen felt a profound wave of relief wash over him at the words.

”Father, you must take some rest now. I will remain by August’s side tonight,” Sylvian asserted.

”Then I shall retire to my chamber,” King Nyxen conceded, the exhaustion finally showing in the slump of his shoulders.

Both Sylvian and the physician bowed deeply as the King turned and walked out of the room.

A moment later, after double-checking the medical supplies at the bedside, the physician offered a nod to the prince and quietly took his leave, closing the doors behind him.

Sylvian strode over to the balcony, locking the doors securely before sinking into the wooden armchair beside the bed. He intentionally kept the incident from his mother, knowing it would hurt him even more.

’If I hadn’t arrived exactly when I did, that man would have successfully poisoned him,’ he thought, his chest tightening as he stared at the glass on the table.

’I cannot believe someone or most probably my mother is trying this desperately to force him into his grave. I always believed this palace was insulated from this kind of treachery. So... was what August told me that day actually the truth? Did my mother really orchestrate the murder of his mother?’

As he contemplated the depth of it, he felt even more terrible. ’The entire Spencer bloodline... wiped out simply because their patriarch discovered what my mother did. How could she commit such an atrocity? I always viewed her as the innocent woman in this palace.’

He stared blankly at the dim candlelight flickering against the wall. ’Though nothing has been proven yet, a part of me cannot silence the terrifying realization that Mother has done horrific things that none of us ever suspected.’

Sylvian stared at August’s unconscious form. ”I hope you wake up soon. But why do you have to be this fool to reach this bed. I always thought you were clever and two steps ahead of everyone,” he murmured and chuckled to himself.