Chapter 18
Once I’d cleared my plate, Whitley assisted me in picking out several books from the library.
This time around, the head butler showed none of his earlier standoffishness.
His behavior made it obvious: he ranked among the handful who knew of the Duke’s curse. And he’d evidently learned it had no power over me.
Did our mutual knowledge forge some bond of solidarity?
Grateful for Whitley’s candid guidance, I managed to cross paths with the Duke “by chance” as he returned.
“I was on the verge of a stroll myself. Serendipitous, isn’t it!”
To my relief, the Duke merely compressed his lips and allowed my hand to stay.
We wandered a bleak garden littered with shriveled foliage, true spring still months off. The flowerbeds looked as if they’d remain barren even then.
“So, Your Grace, the maids never wait on you?”
The observation stemmed from how routinely they’d fled the dining room.
“Because of the curse?”
I’d planned a hushed aside just for him, but his height meant my voice landed against his torso.
The Duke jerked back a step.
“I’ve always disliked contact.”
Naturally—who wouldn’t dread it if touch spelled death, man or woman?
Sympathy tugged at me. Glancing upward, I saw the cravat I’d knotted so precisely that morning had slackened.
“Your cravat’s gone awry, Your Grace.”
I paused, stretching up to straighten it.
He went rigid beneath my fingers, tilting his chin to bare the taut veins pulsing in his neck.
“Curious. I fastened it secure.”
“That’s due to…”
Guilt shadowed the Duke’s pause.
“I donned my training gear earlier…”
“You switched clothes?”
My head tipped quizzically.
“Yet you matched my knot exactly?”
A keen eye for such things?
“I never reknotted it…”
Eyes downcast, he mumbled.
A light wind whispered past, easing his swept-back hair forward. For a fleeting second, bashful youth softened his keen stare.
‘…Impossible.’
“You slipped it off over your head and right back on, untied?”**
Leaning in, his chill, winter-pure scent grazed me.
“What? Fond of my handiwork that much?”
The image of his clumsy efforts brought a grin.
“I didn’t want to disrespect your careful effort by untying it.”
Awkwardly, the Duke looked aside.
“Feel free to loosen it next time.”
Nose wrinkling in mischief, I teased.
“I’ll redo it for you anytime.”
“…”
Refusal hovered on his tongue, only for him to seal his lips, wary of whatever I’d blurt next.
His profile cut like flawless sculpture.
“By the way, Your Grace, you’re extraordinarily handsome.”
The praise escaped effortlessly. The Duke went utterly still, thunderstruck.
“Why so stunned? No one’s mentioned it before?”
“I’ve encountered no woman bold enough to declare it outright.”
His distant murmur carried on.
“You toss it out like idle chatter.”
“Idle? I hold sky-high standards. This isn’t flattery for just anyone.”
True, as a photographer, I’d complimented models endlessly…
‘Rarely this heartfelt, though.’
Doubt in his eyes, the Duke flicked a glance my way, then turned, his refined neckline gleaming.
‘Without this world’s cursed fate… he’d have thrived amid praise and devotion.’
My old life would have laid red carpets at his feet.
Cursed instead, he warred eternally with beasts.
‘I’ll at least lavish him with admiration and care.’
Inward sigh hidden, I smiled at the Duke. Arm outstretched and tense, he bore my touch without recoil.
**
Night fell under a luminous moon.
Bent on my quota of three daily meetings, I climbed to the third-floor suite.
Knock, knock.
“Your Grace, awake?”
“…”
Crash!
Why did he always send something tumbling at my knock?
‘Time for a personal valet.’
Expecting the morning’s abrupt yank, I found only a narrow crack instead.
Face faintly rattled, the Duke peered out.
“What do you need?”
“Not asleep yet?”
His eyes dipped to my nightgown, then skittered away as I smiled.
“I… meant to retire soon. Urgent business?”
“Nothing pressing…”
“Then tomorrow it is. Late hour—get some sleep.”
“Just a goodnight…”
Eyes lifting warily.
Annétte couldn’t rival Ladriel’s radiance, but her fine-boned prettiness had charms.
I’d rehearsed in the glass: the ideal pout summoned sympathy.
“May I slip in briefly?”
His hold firmed; the door inched shut.
“Not dressed for company.”
It creaked narrower. Foot thrusting forward on instinct.
“Stop that—it’s risky.”
Brows knitting in worry, he clutched the frame.
“You’re dressed fine. No harm.”
Grin widening.
“I’m the one in questionable garb.”
“Yours qualifies as improper, clearly.”
Exasperation honed his glare.
Tch.
“Hallway’s an icebox. A quick visit?”
Arms folding, I shuddered for effect. Long sigh escaping, he yielded, door parting.
Morning-style, I eased inside.
“Your real aim?”
“Goodnight, as stated.”
“Nothing more?”
“What, fearing I’d join your bed?”
Lower lip caught between teeth.
“Jokes end now. Back to bed.”
One day in, though, ease had replaced my wariness of the Grand Duke.
Toward the bedroom—unexplored yesterday—I drifted.
Door stood open.
“Oh, the bedchamber.”
“Wh-where—?!”
“A glance?”
Answering for him, I entered.
Plain as the sitting room.
Duke’s quarters echoed its simplicity: basic bed, fireplace, wee table, solitary chair. Spare for a castle lord.
Bedclothes rumpled, fresh from use.
“My, Grand Duke, abed already?”
“Leave now—it’s late—”
“No. I’ll settle you for sleep.”
Brows furrowing in incredulity.
“Don’t be absurd.”
“I’m expert at it.”
Past-life reports had boardroom suits snoring reliably.
Sensing my resolve, the Duke braced.
“Treating me like a child?”
The tale recalled: saintess’s hand on the Grand Duke’s quelled his torment.
“As senses blurred, warmth grazed his shaking hand. Light as it was, agony fled his frame.”
Along those lines.
More touch, less pain—logical.
He already appeared calmer than that first moonlit glimpse.
Simple for me. No drawbacks.
Sole reliever? Duty called.
Hand clasp? Ideal for us both.
Scary or not, aid was aid. Righting pain demanded it.
Good man, besides.
Knowing my gift, he never pressed or exploited.
Silence spared me alarm or duty.
Early avoidance protected me.
Castle refuge earned some comfort—in kind, pressure-free.
Thus the late excuse: bedtime wish.
Persuasion? Skip it.
Simplest path.
“I stay put until you’re in bed.”
