***Cassius***
The city of Dravenshire glittered in autumn sunlight, its streets alive with music and perfume. To an outsider, it looked like paradise, a place where beauty and power walked hand in hand. To me, it had become a cage.
I thought marriage would change things. I had believed that once the vows were spoken, once I stood as Aldrik's chosen omega, he would see me, not just as a decoration but as a partner. Instead, I found myself living in a world of silken curtains and locked doors.
Aldrik was always polite. He never raised his voice or said anything cruel. But politeness can be cold. Sometimes I wished he'd just get angry. At least that would mean he felt something.
I tried, at first, to reach him.
One evening I entered his study, the golden light of dusk painting the walls. He sat at his desk, a mountain of documents before him, his quill scratching in steady rhythm. I placed my hand gently on his arm.
"Aldrik," I said, soft but hopeful. "It has been days since we dined together. Perhaps tonight…"
He did not look up. "There are matters that require my attention. Tomorrow, perhaps."
"Tomorrow always becomes the next tomorrow," I whispered, but the words fell into silence.
I lingered, waiting for him to glance at me, to see me, but his eyes never left the parchment. In the end, I left, feeling more hurt than before.
It was the same in the days that followed. I dressed myself in fine clothes, attended the events he requested, smiled when nobles praised the brilliance of our union. But in private, Aldrik was distant, his mind fixed on matters I could not reach.
But things were different outside those walls. The guards greeted me with easy smiles when I passed through the courtyards. The servants were genuinely kind, not just doing their jobs.
In the kitchens, the cooks always pressed sweet pastries into my hands, urging me to taste them before anyone else. The stablehands whispered greetings, their eyes bright with admiration, as if I were some figure from legend rather than a man lost in his own home.
At first, it comforted me. I told myself that perhaps Aldrik's reserve was simply his nature, that in time, he would warm up to me as others' had. But the more kindness I received from those around us, the more his coldness pains.
It was like walking in sunlight only to return each night to a chamber where the fire refused to burn.
Then I began to notice the letters.
They arrived at odd hours, sealed with no crest, carried not by the household servants but by men I did not recognize. The first time, I thought little of it. But then there was another, and another still, each one slipped to him discreetly, always when he believed I was absent.
One night, I woke to find the bed beside me cold and empty. I got up and saw light under his study door. Through the gap I could see him reading by candlelight. His face was serious, his jaw tight. When the floor creaked under my foot, he shoved the letter under other papers.
"Cassius," he said smoothly, his smile perfectly in place. "You should rest. It is late."
"What are you reading?" I asked, my voice too sharp.
"Estate business," he replied without hesitation. "Nothing that requires your worry."
His eyes held mine for only a moment before returning to the documents. I stood there, feeling foolish, like a child caught prying into grown men's secrets. I left without another word, but my heart twisted with unease.
The doubts grew louder.
During meals, he excused himself to meet with advisors I had never seen before. In gatherings, he drifted to corners with men whose names I could not catch, their voices low, their faces shadowed.
Each time I tried to approach, he drew a wall around himself, polite but firm, until I could do nothing but retreat once more.
And yet, whenever I returned to my chambers, the staff greeted me with genuine delight. They told me how radiant I looked, how fortunate the city was to have me among them. Some pressed flowers into my hands, others whispered blessings.
Their affection should have been enough. But it only sharpened the hollowness Aldrik left behind. To be loved by all and yet not by the one who mattered most, it was a wound that never closed.
I told myself I was imagining things, that Aldrik was only burdened by duty, that every duke heir must carry secrets.
I reminded myself that marriages of alliance were rarely built on affection, that I had known this when I accepted his hand. But in the stillness of night, lying awake in an empty bed, I felt the truth pressing close.
This wasn't the kind of life I dreamed of.
Dravenshire looked beautiful, but there were secrets in the shadows. Secrets I wasn't supposed to know about.
For the first time, I felt afraid. Not a
fraid of losing my position. But afraid of who Aldrik really was.