Chapter 54 - Sweet Lies and Dangerous Truths

Chapter 54 - Sweet Lies and Dangerous Truths

The day before the Winter Ball, the duchy was a whirlwind of preparations. Servants ran from hall to hall, polishing floors, arranging flowers, and ensuring the Duke and Duchess's carriage was nothing short of dazzling. Verbena, however, was finding it hard to focus on anything other than the man currently pinning her against the library shelves.

"You're supposed to be in your office," she whispered, though her voice lacked any real conviction.

"And you're supposed to be choosing your jewelry," Theodore murmured back, his lips dangerously close to her neck.

"If we both fail our duties, the staff will think we're… doing something improper."

"Let them think." His fingers traced her waist, slipping just under the edge of her blouse. "It's not like they'd be wrong."

Verbena's breath hitched, but she managed to push him back—just a little. "What happened to the cold and distant Duke? The terrifying Hellgrave?"

He smirked, wicked and irresistible. "He married a troublemaker."

"Excuse me!"

"Am I wrong?"

She couldn't argue. Between the fake amnesia, fake illness, and fake seduction plan that was spiraling into real feelings, 'troublemaker' was almost too soft a word for her.

Still, she needed to focus. "The ball is important. It's our first official appearance as a 'loving couple' since the gossip started. We need to look perfect."

He stepped back, just enough to let her breathe, but his eyes stayed locked on her lips. "Fine. I'll behave."

"Promise?"

"No."

Her glare only made him chuckle.

---

By afternoon, Verbena finally had a moment of peace in her dressing room, where the maids fussed over her hair, her shoes, and the countless accessories they insisted she needed.

"Your Grace, these earrings would compliment the neckline of your gown beautifully," one maid chirped.

Another held up a delicate sapphire choker. "But this would draw attention to your collarbones."

Verbena stared at them blankly. "...What if I just wear my usual necklace?"

The room fell silent.

"The plain silver chain?" one maid whispered, horrified.

"It's comfortable," Verbena defended weakly.

The head maid stepped in, shaking her head. "Your Grace, you're the Duchess of Hellgrave. The empire's most feared man's beloved wife. You can't show up looking like a country girl."

Beloved wife.

Those words shouldn't have made her heart flutter—but they did.

"Fine, the choker."

The maids beamed and got to work. But before they could fully fasten it, the door creaked open. Theodore leaned casually against the frame, arms crossed, eyes dark with something that sent a shiver down her spine.

"Out," he said, voice low.

The maids fled like mice before a cat.

"Now what?" Verbena sighed, still half-dressed. "If you ruin this gown after all that fitting torture, I'll kill you."

"Relax." He stepped in, closing the door behind him. "I came to deliver a gift."

"A gift?"

From behind his back, he revealed a small velvet box.

Curious, she opened it—and gasped.

Inside lay a delicate bracelet, silver and engraved with tiny symbols she didn't recognize, but they shimmered faintly, as if enchanted.

"This belonged to my mother," Theodore said quietly. "She always said Hellgrave women should wear it at their first palace ball."

Verbena's heart ached. Not from sorrow, but from the unexpected gentleness in his voice.

"It's beautiful." She slid it onto her wrist, surprised to find it fit perfectly. "Thank you."

His fingers brushed over hers, lingering for just a second too long.

"Wear it tomorrow," he said. "So everyone knows you're mine."

The possessiveness in his tone should have annoyed her. Instead, it made her stomach flip.

---

That night, Verbena lay awake in bed, staring at the bracelet under the moonlight. It sparkled faintly, like it held secrets from generations of duchesses before her.

She wasn't supposed to care about things like this. Her whole plan—her whole reason for survival—was to fake her way to divorce and freedom. Yet here she was, treasuring a bracelet like it was a love token.

"What are you doing to me, Theodore?" she whispered to the empty room.

There was no answer—only the soft rustle of the wind outside.

But somewhere in the manor, a certain Duke was also lying awake, fingers tracing his lips, remembering the taste of his troublemaker wife.

---

End of chapter