Across the other side of the empire, in the Duke's imposing study, a different kind of tension was building. The Duke, usually so stoic and composed, was practically radiating suppressed fury. He'd just finished reading Yoter's report, and the news of the Prince's visit to Denova, his audacious offer to whisk her away on a grand tour, had sent a jolt of possessive anger through him. An anger he immediately tried to squash down.
"Damn that arrogant Prince," he muttered under his breath. "Does he think he can simply waltz in here and… offer her something?"
He immediately regretted the thought. He could offer her a tour, of course. He could offer her anything. But he wouldn't. He couldn't. He'd made a decision to keep his relationship with Denova strictly as a person she can rely on, nothing more nothing less. He couldn't afford to let his feelings get in the way. Not now. Not ever.
Kael, the Duke's loyal confidant, observed him silently. He knew the Duke had serious feelings for Denova, he can't even refused to acknowledge them. The Duke was a man of duty, bound by curse, and yet still determine to keep Denova at arm's length, even if it killed him.
"There's more, Your Grace," Kael said, his voice low and serious. "The knights have been watching Lady Seraphine Evernight. She's been acting… weird."
The Duke's eyes narrowed, grateful for the distraction. "Seraphine? What's she up to now?" Anything to avoid thinking about Denova and the Prince.
"She's been hanging out at some shady guild, Your Grace. The knights overheard her talking about Lady Denova, and they think she's planning something… bad."
The Duke's jaw tightened. Seraphine Evernight. His persistent, unwanted admirer. He knew how fiercely she clung to the hope of becoming his Duchess, and he knew how far she'd go to get what she wanted. He also knew that any entanglement with Seraphine would be a disaster, especially now, with Denova.
Kael scratched his head, looking worried. "That woman is obsessed, Your Grace. She's like a stalker, always around, always plotting. I don't know why you haven't ordered to dispose her out already."
The Duke took a deep breath, trying to regain his composure. "Looks like I have some… cleaning up to do," he said, his voice low and dangerous. He stood up, looking powerful and intimidating. "Tell the knights to keep an eye on Seraphine, and Yoter… tell him to find out what's going on with him and Patricia. Something's fishy there. And Kael…"
"Yes, Your Grace?"
"Remind me to increase Lady Ravenscroft's security detail. I want her protected, at all costs. But make sure she doesn't know it's me. I don't want her thinking…" He trailed off, unable to articulate the truth. I don't want her thinking I care so much.
As the Duke headed for the door, Kael felt a sense of unease. The garden, with its quiet moments and hidden secrets, and the Duke's study, with its brewing anger and jealousy, were about to collide. And Denova, stuck in the middle, is in for a wild ride, all because the Duke's curse.
It was just before dinner when the Duke finally arrived home.
Denova had been lingering near the front door with Lowen for a while now, pretending she wasn't watching the clock. Lowen, on the other hand, made no effort to hide his excitement. The moment footsteps echoed through the hall, he straightened.
"He's here," the child whispered, eyes bright.
The doors opened, and the Duke stepped inside, still dressed in his traveling coat. Before he could even remove his gloves, Lowen ran toward him.
"Duke!"
The Duke laughed softly and crouched down just in time to catch the child, resting a gentle hand on Lowen's head.
"I see you've been waiting," he said. "Did you miss me that much?"
Lowen nodded enthusiastically. "They said you'd come home today."
The Duke's gaze lifted, right to her.
Denova smiled, a little shy, then stepped closer. "You're home earlier than usual," she said. "Have you eaten yet? If not… maybe we could have dinner together."
For a moment, he simply looked at her, as though the offer meant more than she realized. Then his expression softened.
"That would be nice," he replied. "I'd like that very much."
He ruffled Lowen's hair again before straightening. "Shall we?"
They went inside together, the manor unusually warm despite its grand halls.
After changing and preparing himself, the Duke joined them in the dining room. Candlelight flickered softly as servants withdrew, leaving the three of them in a rare pocket of quiet.
"So," he said casually, cutting into his meal, "how was your day?"
Denova hesitated, then answered, "The Prince visited."
The Duke's movements stilled just slightly.
"He came to thank me personally," she continued, watching him carefully. "For the gown that I'll be designing for the Empress. She'll be wearing it during the Harvest Festival… and on her birthday."
"I see," he said evenly, though his voice carried something unreadable.
Denova tilted her head. "And how about you Duke?" she asked gently. "You've been so busy lately. We hardly have time to talk anymore."
The question lingered in the air.
The Duke didn't answer right away.
He knew the truth would open doors he had sealed for centuries. Pillyse living quietly within Denova would sense it, feel it, and demand answers. And those answers would lead straight to the curse. To the price he paid so his wish could be granted. So she could escape her from another universe… and to see her again.
So instead of truth, he offered a smile.
"I've been handling new business outside the Empire," he said calmly. "I'm planning to expand. There are many unfortunate people beyond our borders, those who need work, and stability. If I can help them by hiring them, then I will."
Lowen looked up from his plate. "You're helping people again?"
The Duke chuckled. "That's the goal."
Denova nodded slowly. His answer made sense. It was kind. It was him.
And yet...unease curled quietly in her chest.
Even as he turned his attention to Lowen, joking with him and asking about his day, Denova couldn't shake the feeling that something was being carefully kept from her.
The Duke was rarely home now.
She had wondered before if it was right for her to stay in his manor but the arrival of Lowen, and the small house built at the back of the garden for her workshop, had pushed those doubts aside.
Until now.
She knew he wanted her happiness. She knew he wouldn't stop her if she chose someone else.
And yet…
How could someone search across countless lifetimes just to find the woman he loved only to tell her she was free to love someone else?
How could he push her away while still refusing to let her go?
The contradiction gnawed at her.
Frustrating. Painfully so.
Denova fell silent, lost in her thoughts.
Two more days.
That was when she planned to return to Ravenscroft Manor.
And tonight, with the Duke's present right hand nowhere in sight, an opportunity quietly presented itself.
Her fingers tightened around her napkin.
If he won't tell me the truth… then I'll find it myself.
Denova stepped out of the bath, warm steam still clinging to her skin as droplets slid slowly down her arms. She wrapped a towel around herself and stood there for a moment, staring at her reflection as if waiting for it to talk her out of what she was about to do.
It didn't.
With a quiet sigh, she began to dress.
She chose black simple, fitted, meant to disappear into the shadows. As she fastened the last button, her heartbeat picked up, not from fear exactly, but from the thrill of doing something she knew she shouldn't. Her fingers brushed against the small pin she'd hidden earlier, and a faint smile tugged at her lips.
Old habits really do stay with you, she thought.
Locks had never been a problem for her, not after everything she'd been through. Compared to the past, this would be easy.
She waited.
The manor slowly fell silent, one sound at a time. The distant footsteps of servants, the low murmur of guards changing shifts, the faint echo of doors closing. When the clock struck one, the world finally seemed to hold its breath. The manor had fallen into a deep, fragile silence, the kind that felt like it would shatter if she breathed too loudly.
Denova slipped out of her room and into the corridor, pressing herself close to the walls as if the shadows might recognize her and make room. She moved slowly, patiently, listening to every creak and distant sigh of the old estate. She knew she's being watch she had known for a long time now, but she also knew those eyes can't notice her because to the darkness.
She allowed herself a small, bittersweet smile.
"I'll be fine," she whispered softly, as if speaking to the Duke himself. "I promise."
She wore no shoes, only soft socks that barely brushed the floor as she walked. Each step was careful, deliberate. Nearly an hour passed as she navigated the long corridors and staircases, pausing whenever she sensed movement, waiting until the night settled again.
At last, she stood before the Duke's office.
Her heart thudded quietly in her chest.
From her sleeve, she slipped out a thin hairpin, the same one she'd bought during an afternoon out with Kael. The memory surfaced unexpectedly that it almost felt wrong to use it like this.
"Sorry," she murmured under her breath, kneeling before the lock. "I'll make it up to you."
Metal whispered against metal as she worked the pin inside the lock. One second. Two. Nearly two minutes passed before she felt the faint, satisfying click.
The door opened.
Denova slipped inside and locked it behind her, leaning there for a brief moment to steady herself. Then she lit the small lamp she'd brought, shielding the flame so its glow remain soft and contain just enough to see.
The office felt… unmistakably his. Neat, orderly, and calm.
She searched the desk first, fingers skimming over letters, reports, and ledgers. Trade routes, political correspondence, and economic plans. All of it is normal, and predictable.
Too predictable.
She moved to the shelves, scanning titles, pulling books out one by one. History. Law. Governance.
After nearly two hours, her shoulders sagged.
"Am I imagining things?" she whispered, frustration threading into her voice. "Elarion… what are you hiding from me?"
She turned away, ready to give up when something caught her eye.
A faint glimmer of light.
It came from the right side of the library, near a decorative vase. She stepped closer, narrowing her eyes. The handle of the vase was oddly clean, free of dust where everything else showed the soft passage of time.
Her pulse quickened.
That's strange…
She reached out, fingers closing around the handle, meaning only to test it but then the wall shifted.
The bookshelf rotated soundlessly, revealing a hidden space lined with books unlike any she'd seen before.
Her breath caught in her throat.
She pulled one out, eyes scanning the pages.
Demons.
Bargains.
Wishes granted always at a price.
Her fingers went numb. The book slipped from her grasp and fell softly to the floor.
"No…" she whispered, chills rippling down her spine.
Her thoughts spiraled. He couldn't have made a deal with the devil. He's alive. And according to these texts, demons capable of granting wishes can't cross dimensions.
Unless…
Unless these books were incomplete.
Unless there were truths no one had written down.
She hugged herself, trying to chase away the cold that suddenly surrounded her.
"He's still here," she murmured, more to reassure herself than anything else. "So it can't be real… right?"
But the doubt lingered, quiet, sharp, and dangerous nestling itself deep in her heart as the hidden library stared back at her in silence.