Chapter 62; Royal Luncheon

The corridor was silent as they walked side by side, the playful ease from dinner replaced by something heavier—something neither wanted to name.

Verbena clutched her skirt, aware of every breath, every brush of Theodore's sleeve against her arm.

When they reached her bedroom door, she expected him to bid her goodnight. Instead, he followed her inside.

She raised an eyebrow. "Are you planning to tuck me in now?"

He smirked, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "If we're going to sell this love story, perhaps we should start sleeping in the same room."

Her heart thudded painfully. "You mean…actually sleep?"

"Of course," he said, though the slight rasp in his voice suggested he hadn't entirely thought this through. "Just sleep."

Verbena turned away, hiding her flushed face. "That's unnecessary. We'll convince them without—"

"Are you scared?" he interrupted, stepping closer.

She spun around to glare at him, but the distance between them was gone, leaving her breathless. "Of you? Never."

His hand came up, fingers brushing a loose strand of hair from her cheek. The touch was too tender for her heart to handle.

"Good," he murmured. "Because I'm not a monster, Verbena."

"No," she whispered. "You're not."

For a heartbeat, the world narrowed to just the two of them. His gaze dropped to her lips, and she knew—if she swayed even a little closer, he would kiss her.

But her fear wasn't of him—it was of herself. Of how badly she wanted that kiss.

She stepped back, clearing her throat. "Goodnight, Your Grace."

His smile was bittersweet. "Goodnight, my dear wife."

And just like that, the spell broke.

She closed the door behind him, leaning against it, heart racing wildly.

This was all pretend. A game. A lie.

So why did it feel so heartbreakingly real?

The next morning dawned far too quickly. Verbena sat before her vanity, fingers trembling as the maids pinned her hair into an elegant twist.

"This is your first formal appearance as Duchess," Mrs. Clover fussed, smoothing the embroidered sleeves of Verbena's gown. "You must dazzle them."

"No pressure," Verbena muttered, staring at her reflection. The woman who stared back looked poised and graceful—nothing like the panicked bakery girl from her past life.

But inside, she still felt like that girl.

Theodore arrived minutes later, resplendent in deep navy with silver embroidery that matched her dress perfectly.

"You look…" His words faltered for the briefest moment. "Beautiful."

Her heart flipped. "And you look tolerable."

He laughed softly, offering his arm. "Shall we, my dear wife?"

They arrived at the palace gates to the sound of whispers and soft gasps. The cursed duke and his mysterious duchess, arm in arm, perfectly matched—like they'd stepped straight from a romance novel.

Verbena's smile was effortless as they entered the grand hall, where nobles lounged over tables laden with delicate pastries and crystal goblets of sparkling wine.

"Act natural," Theodore murmured, guiding her toward the Queen.

"Natural as in accidentally tripping into your arms, or natural as in blushing every time you breathe?" she whispered back.

He grinned. "Surprise me."

The Queen, a woman of refined beauty with eyes sharp as daggers, stood with her court—dozens of glittering ladies who lived for scandal.

"Your Grace," the Queen said smoothly, her gaze flicking between Theodore and Verbena. "What a pleasant surprise to see you…together."

The implication hung heavy in the air.

Verbena didn't flinch. She placed her hand delicately on Theodore's arm, leaning into him just enough to make the Queen's brows rise.

"It's our first appearance as a married couple," Verbena said sweetly. "We wanted to honor Your Majesty with our presence."

Theodore squeezed her hand, a silent signal of approval.

The Queen smiled like a cat eyeing a mouse. "How charming."

Just then, a cluster of noble ladies gathered nearby erupted into hushed giggles.

"Did you hear?" one whispered. "The Duke spent the night in the Duchess's chambers!"

"I heard from my maid—her cousin works at the Hellgrave estate," another added, eyes wide with glee.

Verbena's cheeks burned, but she kept her smile steady.

"Oh?" the Queen's smile sharpened. "It seems you two are…very close."

Theodore's arm slid around Verbena's waist, drawing her flush against him. "My wife prefers I sleep beside her," he said, voice low and intimate. "She's quite…affectionate."

Verbena's nails dug into his sleeve in warning, but she played along, resting her head on his shoulder.

"What can I say," she sighed dramatically, "I'm hopelessly in love with my husband."

The ladies sighed in envy. The Queen's smile froze.

And just like that, the game began.

Want me to continue with the royal luncheon chaos in Chapter 64, or do you want some dramatic jealousy when Estella shows up?

The corridor was silent as they walked side by side, the playful ease from dinner replaced by something heavier—something neither wanted to name.

Verbena clutched her skirt, aware of every breath, every brush of Theodore's sleeve against her arm.

When they reached her bedroom door, she expected him to bid her goodnight. Instead, he followed her inside.

She raised an eyebrow. "Are you planning to tuck me in now?"

He smirked, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "If we're going to sell this love story, perhaps we should start sleeping in the same room."

Her heart thudded painfully. "You mean…actually sleep?"

"Of course," he said, though the slight rasp in his voice suggested he hadn't entirely thought this through. "Just sleep."

Verbena turned away, hiding her flushed face. "That's unnecessary. We'll convince them without—"

"Are you scared?" he interrupted, stepping closer.

She spun around to glare at him, but the distance between them was gone, leaving her breathless. "Of you? Never."

His hand came up, fingers brushing a loose strand of hair from her cheek. The touch was too tender for her heart to handle.

"Good," he murmured. "Because I'm not a monster, Verbena."

"No," she whispered. "You're not."

For a heartbeat, the world narrowed to just the two of them. His gaze dropped to her lips, and she knew—if she swayed even a little closer, he would kiss her.

But her fear wasn't of him—it was of herself. Of how badly she wanted that kiss.

She stepped back, clearing her throat. "Goodnight, Your Grace."

His smile was bittersweet. "Goodnight, my dear wife."

And just like that, the spell broke.

She closed the door behind him, leaning against it, heart racing wildly.

This was all pretend. A game. A lie.

So why did it feel so heartbreakingly real?

---

Chapter 63 - The Royal Luncheon Begins

The next morning dawned far too quickly. Verbena sat before her vanity, fingers trembling as the maids pinned her hair into an elegant twist.

"This is your first formal appearance as Duchess," Mrs. Clover fussed, smoothing the embroidered sleeves of Verbena's gown. "You must dazzle them."

"No pressure," Verbena muttered, staring at her reflection. The woman who stared back looked poised and graceful—nothing like the panicked bakery girl from her past life.

But inside, she still felt like that girl.

Theodore arrived minutes later, resplendent in deep navy with silver embroidery that matched her dress perfectly.

"You look…" His words faltered for the briefest moment. "Beautiful."

Her heart flipped. "And you look tolerable."

He laughed softly, offering his arm. "Shall we, my dear wife?"

They arrived at the palace gates to the sound of whispers and soft gasps. The cursed duke and his mysterious duchess, arm in arm, perfectly matched—like they'd stepped straight from a romance novel.

Verbena's smile was effortless as they entered the grand hall, where nobles lounged over tables laden with delicate pastries and crystal goblets of sparkling wine.

"Act natural," Theodore murmured, guiding her toward the Queen.

"Natural as in accidentally tripping into your arms, or natural as in blushing every time you breathe?" she whispered back.

He grinned. "Surprise me."

The Queen, a woman of refined beauty with eyes sharp as daggers, stood with her court—dozens of glittering ladies who lived for scandal.

"Your Grace," the Queen said smoothly, her gaze flicking between Theodore and Verbena. "What a pleasant surprise to see you…together."

The implication hung heavy in the air.

Verbena didn't flinch. She placed her hand delicately on Theodore's arm, leaning into him just enough to make the Queen's brows rise.

"It's our first appearance as a married couple," Verbena said sweetly. "We wanted to honor Your Majesty with our presence."

Theodore squeezed her hand, a silent signal of approval.

The Queen smiled like a cat eyeing a mouse. "How charming."

Just then, a cluster of noble ladies gathered nearby erupted into hushed giggles.

"Did you hear?" one whispered. "The Duke spent the night in the Duchess's chambers!"

"I heard from my maid—her cousin works at the Hellgrave estate," another added, eyes wide with glee.

Verbena's cheeks burned, but she kept her smile steady.

"Oh?" the Queen's smile sharpened. "It seems you two are…very close."

Theodore's arm slid around Verbena's waist, drawing her flush against him. "My wife prefers I sleep beside her," he said, voice low and intimate. "She's quite…affectionate."

Verbena's nails dug into his sleeve in warning, but she played along, resting her head on his shoulder.

"What can I say," she sighed dramatically, "I'm hopelessly in love with my husband."

The ladies sighed in envy. The Queen's smile froze.

And just like that, the game began.

---

End of chapter