Chapter 46: Defending my Wife

Nathaniel's presence was a chill that sucked the heat from the corridor. Everyone instinctively stepped aside, parting a path for him.

"What did you say about my wife?" Nathaniel asked calmly. Too calmly.

Emilio blanched. "Cousin...I was merely saying she was..."

"I heard you." Nathaniel's jaw flexed as he walked slowly forward, gaze never wavering. "You insulted your Duchess. In my house. After laying hands on her maid."

Lady Rosalind tried to interject, a nervous trill in her voice. "Surely we can settle this privately..."

"No," Nathaniel cut in without even glancing at her. "There will be no sweeping this under a rug."

He stopped a few paces from Emilio, who looked suddenly very small.

"If you ever touch another woman in this manor again, servant or not," Nathaniel said, voice low and lethal, "I will personally break every bone in your body and feed you to the hounds. Do you understand me?"

Emilio didn't answer.

"Do you understand me?" Nathaniel's voice dropped even further, laced with quiet rage.

"Yes," Emilio choked out.

"Good." Nathaniel turned slightly, his eyes now flicking to Evelyn and something unreadable flickered there. Pride, perhaps or something deeper.

Then, to the servants gathered, he said curtly, "Return to your duties."

And to Lady Rosalind, he gave a single warning glance.

She said nothing. Only bowed her head slightly, lips tight.

Nathaniel extended a hand to Cora, who looked shaken. "Come."

She hesitated, then walked toward him. He placed her behind Evelyn gently and nodded once. "See that she's escorted safely to her room."

With that, the corridor emptied, leaving only tension in the air.

And a silence that said things would never be the same.

Later in her chamber,

Evelyn sat on the edge of the bed in her private chamber, the fire behind her flickering low in the hearth. The warmth did little to soothe the cold weight still sitting in her chest.

Cora was curled beside her, her eyes puffy, cheeks stained with dried tears. Her hair had come loose from its neat braid, and she clutched a handkerchief Evelyn had given her.

"I'm so sorry, Cora," Evelyn whispered softly, brushing a loose strand of hair from her maid's face. "I should have had someone with you. I should have watched you more closely. I was neglectful."

"No, my lady, don't say that." Cora's voice trembled. "You...you saved me. You stood up for me when no one else would have. I've seen girls like me get thrown away for less. And you..." her voice cracked again, "you risked everything."

Evelyn gently pulled her into a hug, stroking her back as she buried her face against her shoulder.

"I promised your father I'd look after you, remember?" Evelyn said, her voice heavy with emotion. "Even if I'm a duchess now, that hasn't changed. I'll protect you with everything I have."

Cora nodded silently, her arms clinging tightly to her mistress. The innocence of their shared past, the trust that once existed between lady and handmaid, returned in that small embrace.

"I was so scared," Cora whispered. "He looked at me like I wasn't human."

Evelyn's arms tightened around her. "He'll never touch you again. I swear it."

They sat like that for a while, two women in a world that often forgot their strength, their bond a quiet fortress against the cruelty they faced.

Emilio's Chambers

Glass shattered against the stone fireplace. A silver goblet clattered loudly to the ground, rolling in maddening circles.

Emilio stormed about his room like a tempest grabbing ornaments, vases, and books from shelves and hurling them in every direction. The heavy oak chair by the window was overturned with a crash. A mirror cracked from the impact of a thrown lamp.

"That arrogant bastard!" he shouted. "He dares humiliate me...me...in front of those lowly rats? I'm of his blood! I should be the one with the title, not him!"

The door banged open, and in swept Lady Rosalind, not with her usual softness, but with ice in her eyes.

"Emilio," she hissed, striding toward him.

He was mid-rant, pacing like a lion in a cage. "I won't be treated like this anymore. I won't! He thinks I'm nothing... he'll see, I'll..."

Her palm cracked across his face before he saw it coming. She slapped hard.

Emilio staggered back from the impact, stunned. "M-mother?"He stammered.

"You fool!" Lady Rosalind's eyes flared with fury. "You utter, insufferable fool! I told you to keep your head down. I told you not to touch anyone. But you can't keep your filthy hands to yourself, can you?"

Emilio's face turned scarlet, his breath heavy. "She's just a servant..."

"Exactly!" she snapped. "And yet you managed to make a scandal out of it. You think the Duke doesn't already suspect us? Do you think we have leverage left if he decides to crush us? You were given a seat at his table, and you spat on it!"

She stalked toward him, pointing a sharp finger into his chest.

"I have spent years building our place in this manor. Years, Emilio. Your father was a miserable mistake, your existence a tolerated secret only because the Duke chose to be merciful. That mercy is not infinite."

Emilio's face twisted, lips trembling with frustration. "He treats me like dirt!"

"He treats you exactly as you deserve right now," Rosalind hissed. "You want power? Earn it. Use your brain, not your fists and lust-addled idiocy. Or else you'll drag us both into the grave."

He turned away, breathing hard.

She stood behind him, cold and composed again.

"Clean yourself up. And stay out of that Duchess's path. From this moment on, you do nothing without my approval. Understand?"

Emilio said nothing.

"I said, do you understand?"

"Yes," he spat through gritted teeth.

Lady Rosalind exhaled sharply and swept from the room, slamming the door behind her. The broken glass and cracked mirror were the only witnesses to the rage that still simmered behind Emilio's eyes.