Chapter 52 - The Morning After and the Trouble to Come

Verbena stirred awake to the soft touch of fingers tracing lazy circles on her bare back. Her eyes fluttered open, and for a moment, she forgot where she was—or rather, who she was with.

Theodore lay beside her, his dark hair gloriously tousled, his chest bare and still lightly marked with her nails from the night before. The sight made her face flush, but instead of pulling away in embarrassment, she stretched like a cat, curling into him with a satisfied hum.

"Morning, Duchess," he said, voice rough from sleep.

"Morning, my Duke." Her fingers drew invisible patterns on his chest, her heart oddly calm despite everything they'd done. She had expected awkwardness, maybe regret, but all she felt was... warmth.

"You didn't sneak away," he teased, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

"I thought about it," she admitted shamelessly. "But then I remembered you sleep like a dragon guarding treasure. One wrong step and you would've caught me."

He chuckled, the deep sound vibrating under her cheek. "Smart choice."

They lay in comfortable silence for a moment, the golden morning light spilling through the curtains. For once, there was no scheming, no pretending, just a husband and wife sharing a bed. Verbena could almost believe they were an ordinary couple—almost.

Then reality came knocking. Loudly.

"Your Grace! Your Grace! There's urgent news!"

The pounding on the door made Verbena jolt, instinctively pulling the covers up to her chin. Theodore groaned, burying his face in her hair. "They have the worst timing."

"I'll hide," she whispered, eyes wide with panic.

"What? Why?"

"It's embarrassing!"

Theodore arched a brow. "After last night, you want to play shy now?"

Before she could argue, the door creaked open just a sliver, and the head maid's voice floated in—full of barely restrained excitement. "Apologies, Your Grace, but… the nobles at the palace have caught wind of your, uh, newfound marital bliss."

Verbena's heart stopped. "What?"

The maid coughed delicately. "It seems someone overheard certain… sounds echoing through the hallways last night."

"Oh my god," Verbena groaned, burying her face in her hands. "I'm going to die."

Theodore, ever the devil, smirked. "Let them talk. It's about time they knew who you belong to."

"Don't say things like that!" She smacked his shoulder, but her blush only deepened.

The maid continued, oblivious to her mistress's suffering. "And that's not all. The Duchess Estella has arrived at the estate. She's demanding an audience with both of you."

Verbena froze.

Estella. The ex-fiancée. The very woman who believed Theodore was her destined love and that Verbena had somehow stolen him away. And after last night, the duchy's walls practically radiated with proof of their "passionate love."

"Well," Theodore said lazily, "this is going to be awkward."

"You think?" Verbena hissed. "I need clothes! Proper clothes! And—oh god, what if she smells you on me?"

Theodore, shameless as always, leaned in to kiss her neck, right where a very bold mark lay. "Let her."

"Are you trying to kill me?"

"No, my love. Just enjoying my wife's adorable panic."

Verbena scrambled out of bed, draping the sheet around her body like a makeshift gown. "This is all your fault."

He stretched out on the bed, completely unrepentant. "And you loved every second of it."

"Not the point!"

In record time, Verbena was dressed (with the help of her giggling maids, who couldn't hide their knowing smiles), her hair pinned up to hide the worst of Theodore's handiwork. By the time she entered the sitting room, Estella was already seated, her sharp gaze scanning every inch of Verbena's appearance.

"Good morning, Lady Estella," Verbena said with forced politeness.

"I see married life is… treating you well," Estella said with a tight smile, her eyes narrowing at the barely-hidden love bite near Verbena's collarbone.

Verbena wanted to crawl into a hole.

Theodore entered a moment later, perfectly composed, and greeted Estella with the barest of nods. His hand found the small of Verbena's back, his touch both possessive and comforting. She wasn't facing this alone.

"Shall we get to the point?" Theodore said, his tone all Duke now—cold and formal.

Estella's gaze flicked between them, something dark flickering in her eyes. "Very well. I came to deliver a message from the palace."

"The palace?" Verbena frowned.

"The Emperor is summoning both of you to attend the upcoming Winter Ball." Estella's smile turned brittle. "And His Majesty expects you to arrive together—as the perfect couple everyone's been whispering about."

Perfect couple.

Verbena's stomach flipped. The Winter Ball was the grandest event of the year, attended by every noble family. If they weren't convincing enough—if even a hint of her past schemes slipped—her reputation and Theodore's standing would crumble.

And worst of all? Estella would be watching. Waiting.

"Oh," Verbena whispered. "This is going to be a disaster."

Theodore squeezed her waist, leaning in just enough to whisper in her ear, "Then let's make sure it's a disaster they'll never forget."

Verbena swallowed hard. With her husband beside her, the whole empire watching, and a jealous ex-fiancée waiting to pounce, this was no longer just a marriage.

This was war.

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End of chapter