A partnership

"I will marry you tomorrow." The words slipped from my lips before I had even processed them. I felt a sudden stillness settle over the gardens, as if even the roses had paused in their blooming to listen. Duke Damien's face broke into a wide grin, his eyes sparkling with something akin to mischief. His lips curled into a smirk, and he said, "A wonderful decision, Lady Arabelle. You won't regret it, I assure you."

I nodded, but my mind was a whirlpool of questions. Everyone had something to gain from this marriage. My father would secure an alliance with one of the most powerful men in the realm, the church would have a fine match to bless, and my family's tarnished reputation would be polished to a gleam. But what did Duke Damien stand to gain? What did he, a man with a title and wealth beyond measure, want with a bride like me?

As we continued strolling through the lush gardens, the scent of roses heavy in the air, I tried to calm the uncertainty bubbling within me. Damien's steps were confident beside mine, and he began speaking of his life, filling the air with stories I hadn't heard before. I listened politely, nodding in the right places, but I kept my thoughts focused on my own questions.

"I am the firstborn of five children," he began, his voice light and conversational. "And the only one with any sense, or so my mother often reminds me. My brothers are scattered across the continent - one is a scholar in some distant university, another a knight who prefers battles to banquets. My sisters... Well, they have always been more interested in balls and court gossip than anything else."

I hadn't known that about him. In truth, I hadn't bothered to find out. I had only met him a handful of times before this, always at grand balls or formal dinners where we exchanged no more than pleasantries. His reputation was solid - a respectable duke, charming enough, with a mysterious air that drew many a young lady's eye. But I had never been one of those ladies.

He continued, "I suppose you know my father died when I was quite young, leaving me with responsibilities most men don't shoulder until much later in life."

He glanced at me, perhaps to gauge my reaction. I offered a small, encouraging smile.

"And what about you?" he asked, turning the tables. "I know so little of your life, Lady Arabelle. Besides, of course, your reputation for being quite the dancer with words."

I laughed, the sound surprising me. "You give me too much credit, Your Grace. Dancing with words is hardly a talent worth mentioning."

"On the contrary," he said with a grin. "You play with words with such... determination."

I raised an eyebrow, feigning offense. "Determination? Is that meant to be a compliment?"

He chuckled, his laughter warm and genuine. "Absolutely. Determination is a fine quality. Perhaps one of the finest."

Our banter was easy, almost natural, and I found myself relaxing. Perhaps this marriage wouldn't be so bad after all. His charm wasn't overbearing, and his company was... pleasant. There were worse fates than being married to a man who could make me laugh.

We paused by a stone bench beneath an ancient oak tree, the shadows of the leaves dancing in the dappled sunlight. Damien gestured for me to sit, and I obliged, smoothing my skirts as I did. He took a seat beside me, his expression turning more serious.

"Lady Arabelle," he began, "I understand this arrangement may seem... sudden. And you may wonder why I have chosen you, of all the eligible ladies in the kingdom."

I nodded, holding my breath. This was it - the moment I might finally understand his true intentions.

"You see," he continued, "I have no interest in marrying for love. Love, I believe, is a fickle thing - too easily swayed, too unreliable. I have seen too many marriages crumble under its weight. What I seek is a partnership, a union of minds and purposes."

I tilted my head, intrigued despite myself. "And you think we could have that?"

He nodded, his gaze steady. "I do. You are intelligent, capable, and from what I have observed, not easily swayed by frivolous emotions. You have a clear sense of duty and loyalty - qualities I value above all else. I believe we could build something meaningful together, something that benefits us both."

A partnership. It was an unusual proposition, certainly. Most men wanted beauty, obedience, or an heir. But Damien spoke of something more substantial - respect, perhaps even equality. It was a tempting offer, one that stirred a part of me I had long since silenced.

"And what do you gain from this, Your Grace?" I asked, my curiosity getting the better of me. "You speak of benefits for us both, but what do you stand to gain?"

He smiled, a slow, knowing smile that hinted at secrets he was not yet willing to share. "That, my dear Arabelle, is a story for another time."

I frowned, but before I could press him further, he rose from the bench, offering his hand to me. "Shall we continue our walk?"

I took his hand, letting him pull me to my feet. His touch was firm, his grip warm. I wondered what kind of man hid behind that charming facade. He was clearly intelligent, but there was a guardedness about him, a veil he kept firmly in place. I decided then that I would unravel the mystery of Duke Damien, one thread at a time.

As we resumed our stroll, he continued to speak of his family, his responsibilities, and the expectations placed upon him as the head of his house. He spoke with ease, his voice smooth like honey, and I found myself relaxing further in his company. He made small jokes every now and then, teasing me gently, and I laughed, g

enuinely amused.

Maybe marriage to him wouldn't be so bad after all.