The Duke's Unwanted Second Wife

Iliana held the forged letter firmly in her hand, her thumb tracing the crisp edge of the paper as the carriage came to an unexpected halt.

”What happened?” she asked, leaning toward the small wooden hatch.

”My lady, we cannot proceed further,” the driver called back through the window. ”Word has just come down the street that Prince Sylvian has arrived in the city for an unannounced visit. The guards have closed off the main thoroughfare.”

Iliana froze, her pulse spiking at the mention of his name.

”I am sorry, my lady, but you will have to step down here,” the driver continued, opening the carriage door for her. ”I shall refund your fare.”

”No, that is quite alright,” Iliana murmured, stepping out onto the cobblestones.

The street was in utter disarray. Dozens of carriages stood abandoned in long lines, their horses snorting in impatience while passengers poured out onto the footpaths, forced to continue their journeys on foot through the swelling crowd.

’Why did Prince Sylvian come here?’ Iliana thought, her stomach twisting as she turned back toward her house. Sending the letter was entirely useless now.

As she crossed the threshold into her house’s courtyard, the sound of footsteps stopped her in her tracks. Her eyes fell first on a pair of riding boots before she slowly looked up.

Sylvian stood just paces away, a warm smile gracing his lips.

”Your Highness!” Iliana gasped under her breath.

She cast a frantic look around the yard, relieved to find the surrounding alley empty. Acting on pure instinct, she grabbed his hand, quickly unlocked her front door, and pulled him inside before shutting it firmly behind them.

”Why are you here?” she asked with panic. ”Do you not realize what hour it is? The streets are full of people going to work!”

”I am well aware,” Sylvian replied calmly, his smile softening as he looked down at her. ”Which is precisely why I arrived quietly, without drawing anyone’s notice.”

”Really?” Her panicked expression softened, relief flickering across her face.

”Yes. No one saw me,” Sylvian replied, his voice calm and steady.

”What about your guard?” she asked, glancing toward the closed door.

”He accompanied me,” Sylvian answered smoothly. ”He was the one who ensured I reached your doorstep undetected. But where were you heading just now?”

”I was on my way to the post office to dispatch a letter to you,” she confessed.

As the words left her lips, her eyes drifted downward to where her fingers were still wrapped tightly around his hand. Heat flushed her cheeks as she quickly released her grip, stepping back to adjust her posture.

”Please, sit down, Your Highness,” Iliana murmured, gesturing toward the wooden chair.

”I am rather thirsty,” Sylvian replied, watching her intently.

She turned immediately toward the adjoining kitchen, returning a moment later with a clean bronze glass filled with water on a tray, offering it to him with lowered eyes.

He thanked her and took the glass from her hands. As he sipped the water, his dark eyes remained fixed on her face, observing every subtle shift in her expression.

”You are not pleased to see me, are you?” Sylvian remarked, setting the empty bronze glass onto the small wooden table beside him.

”That is not true, Your Highness,” Iliana replied, her chest tightening. ”I am simply worried about what might occur should anyone discover your presence here...”

She trailed off, catching the faint, amused curve that touched the corners of Sylvian’s lips.

”Does my distress amuse His Highness?” she asked, her brow furrowing in irritation.

”No. It is simply that I am unaccustomed to such a reaction,” Sylvian replied calmly. ”Most women would find it thrilling if I were to appear unexpectedly. Do not misunderstand me—I speak of the high-society gatherings I am forced to attend.”

”That is because they are not commoners living in a neighborhood like this,” Iliana countered, her voice tight. ”Rumors would spread like wildfire through these streets if Prince Sylvian were seen outside my door.”

Sylvian reached out, grabbing her wrist with firm gentleness, and pulled her down onto the small settee beside him. Iliana caught her breath, flustered by the sudden proximity, but before she could pull away, Sylvian shifted back a few inches to give her space while keeping his gaze locked on hers.

”I could not wait any longer to see you,” Sylvian said softly. ”I felt I had to come and spend a quiet moment here with you.”

”A moment here?” Iliana’s brows arched in disbelief. ”That is impossible. My friend will arrive shortly, and if she finds you here, she will demand to know why you have returned. Besides, the entire town already knows you are in the province.”

”So you wish for me to leave, then,” Sylvian said, his tone turning dramatically mournful as a slight pout formed on his lips. ”Even after I departed at the crack of dawn, long before sunrise, just to reach your doorstep.”

He stood up with deliberate slowness, shaking his head. ”Very well. I shall take my leave.”

Just as he turned to step away, Iliana reached out and caught the very edge of his sleeve, bringing him to a sudden halt.

”I did not mean to ask Your Highness to leave so abruptly,” Iliana said, looking up at him nervously. ”It is only that my house is small, and I fear you will find it far from comfortable.”

”Why do you assume that?” Sylvian asked, arching an eyebrow in quiet amusement. ”I have traveled through countless cities and towns over the years. I am well-acquainted with all manner of lodgings.” He paused, taking in her worried expression before offering a solution. ”I could simply rest in your room while you attend to your affairs. That way, no one will learn of my presence, and I may slip away unnoticed later. What say you?”

Iliana stared at him, utterly bewildered by the suggestion. She stood up and took a step closer, tiptoing slightly as her eyes darted from his broad shoulders down to his height.

”My bed is far too small for someone of your stature,” she argued, gesturing vaguely toward her room. ”Your Highness’s legs will hang straight off the edge.”

”It makes no difference to me,” Sylvian countered smoothly.

”You will not be able to rest properly,” she insisted, shaking her head. ”Why does Your Highness not have your guard escort you away quietly, just as you arrived, before the entire street notices?”

”You truly do wish for me to depart,” Sylvian murmured, his voice laced with faint disappointment. ”Very well, I shall go. We may speak another time.”

A sharp pang of guilt struck Iliana’s chest. He had ridden out before the break of dawn, braving the dust and distance simply to spend a few brief moments in her presence, yet she was driving him away out of sheer apprehension.

She moved quickly, crossing the small room to intercept him just as his hand brushed the front door.

”My bedroom is upstairs,” Iliana relented softly, stepping ahead to guide him toward the narrow, spiraled wooden staircase.

Gathering the heavy folds of her long skirt in one hand to keep from tripping, she began her climb. Halfway up the steps, her foot caught on a uneven edge of wood, and her balance gave way.

”Ah—”

Her hand scrambled desperately for the wooden bannister, locking around it, but before she could fall, his hand pressed against the small of her back, instantly stabilizing her against the incline.

”Careful,” Sylvian warned.

The moment she regained her footing, he withdrew his hand, the heat of his palm lingering through the fabric of her dress. A sharp jolt of electricity surged straight up her spine, leaving her breathless as she clung to the handrail.

She took a deep breath, steadying her fluttering heart before leading him up the remaining steps.

Opening the door to her bedchamber, Sylvian stepped inside and took in the modest space. A narrow bed was tucked neatly into the far corner, draped in simple linens. Every object in the room had its designated place, arranged with meticulous care, but it was the walls that caught his attention. They were covered in delicate, beautiful paintings, their soft colors and sweeping strokes bringing an unexpected sense of calm to his chest.

”Iliana! Iliana!”

A loud voice echoed from the courtyard below, shattering the quiet stillness of the room.

Iliana gasped, hurrying to the window to glance through the glass before hastily drawing the heavy curtains closed.

”My friend has arrived,” she whispered, turning to Sylvian with wide, pleading eyes. ”Please, do not step outside. And do not make a sound. I cannot explain your presence, or us, to anyone just yet. I hope you understand, Your Highness.”

Sylvian offered her an assured, gentle smile, stepping back into the shadows of the room. ”Do not fret. I am remarkably good at hiding.”

Iliana smiled and said, ”The blanket is inside the cupboard. I’ll see Your Highness later.” She bowed and hurried downstairs while smiling in a feeling she hadn’t experienced before.