Chapter Eighteen.

The countryside awoke early that morning, alive with the bustle of travelers preparing to depart for their homes. Carriages creaked under the weight of goods, and the chatter of departing guests filled the air. Among them, Lady Elisabeth had quietly left Lady Victoria's chamber before dawn, her heart content after seeing her son. Hazel, still fast asleep, remained unaware of Lady Elisabeth's departure. Joining her modest entourage with her group, they began their journey back to the village, her only wish being that Garet would read the note she had slipped into his pocket.

The guests who had come from afar left laden with baskets of harvested produce,

gifts from the celebration that would sustain them for weeks.

As the sun rose higher, Hazel stirred from her deep slumber, her senses slowly returning. She found her mother bustling in the kitchen, setting breakfast on the table.

"Good morning, Mother," Hazel greeted, stretching.

"Good morning, my sweet Hazel. Did you sleep well?" her mother replied, smiling.

"I've never felt better," Hazel said cheerily. She glanced around the room and then asked, "Where is Lady Elisabeth?"

"She left early," her mother answered. "She had to catch the carriage back to the village in time. She asked me to send you her regards when you woke."

Hazel nodded thoughtfully as she sat down to eat.

They ate in comfortable silence until Hazel broke it. "I'll be stepping out today, Mother."

"And where, pray, are you off to? I thought you might stay home and rest after yesterday's excitement," her mother said, raising an eyebrow.

"I know I should, but I slept well and feel energized," Hazel replied.

"Very well," her mother sighed. "Just be careful, and don't overexert yourself."

After breakfast, Hazel busied herself preparing for the day. She retrieved a guidebook on martial arts from her shelf, packed a change of clothes, and kissed her mother goodbye before heading out.

---

Meanwhile, Garet was in his room, groggy after the long night of festivities. As he rubbed his temples, he mentally listed his tasks for the day. Chief among them was a visit to the estate of his mother's former mistress. The thought gave him a renewed sense of purpose, and he quickly rose, freshened up, and summoned his butler to his study.

Determined to avoid any prying eyes, especially the lingering guests, Garet was clear in his instructions. When the butler arrived, he greeted Garet with a bow.

"Have you made arrangements for today's outing?" Garet asked firmly.

"Yes, my lord. The carriage will be prepared shortly," the butler replied.

"Good. Ensure no one knows where we are headed. If anyone inquires, whether my father, Delinda, or Edward, you are to say that you're showing me parts of the countryside. If I find out otherwise, you will regret it," Garet warned coldly.

"You have my word, my lord," the butler assured him with another bow.

"Very well. Your Dismissed," Garet said.

Moments later, a maid entered, carrying a pot of tea. She set it down on the table and curtsied before leaving. Garet stared at the tea suspiciously. His distrust of Delinda ran deep, rooted in the stories of witchcraft and potions whispered among the maids. With a grimace, he emptied the tea into the chamber pot. "Prevention is better than cure," he muttered, returning to his desk.

---

By midmorning, the Duke's estate was alive with activity. Guests who had stayed the night gathered for breakfast at the sprawling dining table. Garet descended gracefully, greeting those present with a polite nod. The King and Queen had already departed, but many lesser nobles lingered, eager to form connections with the Duke's heir.

As Garet settled into his seat, the guests bombarded him with questions about his time abroad.

"What was it like, my lord?" one guest asked.

"And what plans do you have for the countryside?" another chimed in, not waiting for an answer.

Garet let them finish their inquiries, his expression calm but distant. "Abroad is vastly different from the countryside," he said at last. "Their technology, fashion, and architecture are far more advanced. As my father has said, I intend to bring some of these innovations here once I assume my role as Duke."

"How noble of you, my lord," said Mr. Fairchild, an ambitious guest. "But did you have any business ventures abroad? Surely such enterprises would struggle in your absence."

Garet's lips curled into a faint smile. "I do have businesses abroad, but they are of a kind that requires little oversight. They flourish whether I am present or not."

A murmur of astonishment rippled through the room. "A business that runs itself? How extraordinary," one woman exclaimed. "The future of wealth, indeed!"

Mr. Fairchild's hopes of aligning his son with Garet's ventures were dashed. He thought he could volunteer for one of his son's to run Garet business for him, while he focused on being Duke. Disappointed but determined, he resolved to find another way.

Despite the flurry of attention, Garet remained guarded, offering only measured responses. Eventually, he excused himself, citing work, and retreated to his study.

The butler soon informed him that the carriage was ready. Garet frowned. "I do not want my father or the guests to see me leave. Is there another route?"

"We could use the back gate, my lord," the butler suggested. "Alternatively, we can wait another hour. Most guests' carriages are already being loaded."

"Then we shall wait," Garet decided.

---

In her chamber, Lady Delinda seethed. Breakfast had been a torment, her bitterness growing as she watched the nobles fawn over Garet. Even his cool indifference seemed to captivate them. "How can they admire someone so cold?" she muttered.

She paced the room, plotting her next move. Should she seek her mistress, the sorceress, for help? It seemed too soon. No, she decided. For now, she would focus on Edward. He needed to rise above his debauchery and prove himself useful. "I'll have him assist the Duke with estate affairs," she mused aloud. "And he must be seen, touring the countryside, meeting the people. That will show them all."

With renewed determination, she swept out of her chamber to confront her wayward son.