Chapter 4: The Cold Embrace of Duty

Chapter 4: The Cold Embrace of Duty

Morning light, sharp and unforgiving, pierced through the gaps in the heavy drapes, illuminating the unfamiliar grandeur of her new chambers. Seraphina stirred beneath the silken sheets, the remnants of a restless sleep clinging to her like a shroud. The events of the previous night played out behind her eyelids—the ruined halls of Evernight, the chilling encounter with Adrian, the arrival at this imposing manor that now held her captive.

She was Duchess of Valemont now, a title that felt more like a brand than an honor. Wife to the man who had orchestrated her family's downfall, the man whose touch sent shivers down her spine, the man whose secrets she was determined to uncover.

A sharp knock startled her, followed by the creak of the heavy oak door swinging open. A young maid, her eyes wide with apprehension, stood in the doorway, her head bowed. "My Lady," she stammered, "the Duke requests your presence for breakfast."

Seraphina sat up, the silken sheets pooling around her waist, her gaze fixed on the maid. "And if I refuse?" she challenged, her voice still laced with the remnants of sleep and a lingering defiance.

The maid hesitated, her fingers fidgeting with the edges of her apron. "The Duke instructed that you should not be disturbed further if you choose not to attend, My Lady."

Seraphina's lips twisted into a humorless smile. It was a calculated move, a subtle display of power disguised as courtesy. Adrian Valemont was a master of such tactics, she realized. He offered the illusion of choice, making it seem as if she were the one conceding, when in reality, he was already maneuvering her into his web.

She swung her legs over the side of the bed, the cool marble floor a stark contrast to the warmth of the silken sheets. "Very well," she conceded, her voice laced with a hint of challenge. "Prepare me."

The maid, clearly relieved, moved with a practiced efficiency, assisting Seraphina into a gown of deep emerald green, its intricate golden embroidery a testament to the wealth and power of the Valemont name. As the maid's nimble fingers braided her hair into an elaborate updo, Seraphina's gaze drifted towards the window, her thoughts swirling with a mix of apprehension and determination.

She was a prisoner in a gilded cage, a pawn in a game played by men who held her fate in their hands. But she would not be a passive player. She would learn the rules of this game, she would decipher the motives of those around her, and she would find a way to break free.

Descending the grand staircase, Seraphina followed the enticing aroma of freshly baked bread and spiced tea towards the dining hall. The room was bathed in the warm glow of the morning sun, its rays filtering through the tall windows and illuminating the polished mahogany table where Adrian sat waiting.

He was already engrossed in a stack of parchments, his brow furrowed in concentration. He wore a simple dark vest over a crisp white shirt, his hair slightly tousled as if he had only recently risen. Yet, despite the casual attire, there was an air of authority about him, a quiet power that radiated from his very presence.

"Good morning, wife," he greeted, his gaze lifting from the documents to meet hers, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his silver eyes.

Seraphina took the seat across from him, her posture straight, her expression carefully neutral. "Your Grace," she acknowledged, her voice cool and composed.

He gestured towards the lavish spread of food before them—fresh fruits, warm pastries, roasted meats, and a variety of steaming beverages. It was a feast fit for royalty, a stark contrast to the meager fare she had grown accustomed to in the aftermath of her family's downfall.

"Are you attempting to win me over with luxury, Your Grace?" she inquired, her voice laced with a sardonic edge.

Adrian's lips curved into a smirk. "Would it work?"

"No," she stated flatly, meeting his gaze with a challenge.

He chuckled, a low rumble in his chest, before setting his cup down. "Then consider it a simple courtesy. I would not want my Duchess to starve."

His Duchess. The words echoed in her mind, a constant reminder of her new reality. She was bound to this man, tied to him by invisible chains that were far more restrictive than any iron shackles.

Seraphina ignored the way the words pricked at her, the way they made her skin crawl. She picked up her fork, her gaze fixed on the food before her. As much as she wished to reject everything about this place, about this man, she would not give him the satisfaction of seeing her weakness.

A tense silence settled between them, broken only by the clink of silverware against porcelain. Then, without warning, Adrian spoke, his voice cutting through the quiet. "I will be leaving for the King's court tomorrow. You will remain here."

Seraphina's gaze snapped up to meet his. "And what if I wish to accompany you?" she challenged, her voice laced with a defiance she could no longer contain.

Adrian's silver eyes gleamed with amusement. "Do you?"

"Perhaps," she retorted coolly. "It would be interesting to see the world beyond these walls. The world you and the King have created."

His smile vanished, his gaze hardening as he leaned back in his chair, his voice low and dangerous. "Stay out of my business, Seraphina."

The use of her given name was a deliberate move, a calculated display of dominance. It was a reminder that she was now his, that he had the right to control her, to command her.

But Seraphina was not a woman to be controlled. The spark of defiance in her eyes flared into a full-blown blaze as she met his gaze without flinching.

"Or what?" she challenged, her voice laced with a newfound steel.

Adrian's expression remained unreadable, but a dangerous glint had entered his eyes. He rose from his chair, his movements deliberate, predatory, as he leaned towards her, his voice a low whisper that sent shivers down her spine.

"Or you will find out just how far my reach extends, wife."