"Well, well, well. And here I thought we had a thief," Lorena's voice dripped with scorn as she and Ashlyn stepped fully into the room, the two guards standing at attention by the door. She stared at the compromising shadows on the bed curtains, her expression a perfect mask of outrage. "It turns out Her Grace was simply… entertaining a guest."
Ashlyn rushed forward, her hands clasped together in a performance of sisterly shame and desperation. Her voice was pitched to sound apologetic, as if she were trying to smooth over a terrible scandal.
"Miss Lorena, please, you must understand," she pleaded, her voice loud enough for the guards to hear every word. "My sister… she stayed in the commoners' part of the kingdom for some time in the past. She must have been terrified of being laughed at by society, arriving here a bride without consummation on her wedding night. She must have panicked and made this… this terrible mistake."
The excuse was skillfully crafted, painting Marissa as a desperate, low-class woman, driven by fear to commit a sin of the flesh.
Lorena scoffed, playing her part to perfection. "She fears being ridiculed? What about us? What about the Thompson family's reputation, which she now carries?" Her gaze hardened as she looked at the silent, curtained bed. Her voice dropped its polite pretense and became a sharp, disrespectful command.
"Marissa!" she said, daring to use the Grand Duchess's name without her title. "Make that bastard get off your bed. Now!"
She strode forward, her hand reaching out to rip the curtains aside and expose the scandalous scene for all to see.
But just as her fingers brushed against the sheer fabric, a pale, slender hand shot out from a gap in the curtains and seized her wrist. The grip was strong.
Lorena gasped, trying to pull back, but the hand held her fast. Then, a voice, cold and imperious came from behind the curtain.
"His Grace is here. Who dares to misbehave in his presence?"
The words hung in the air, a shocking, impossible declaration. Ashlyn's eyes widened. Pretending? She's still pretending?
"Sister," Ashlyn said, her voice taking on a soothing, pitying tone. "Stop this foolishness. You've been caught. Apologize to Miss Lorena for your rudeness. Beg her not to report this to the Dowager Duchess. Otherwise, you know you will be thrown out of this house."
Lorena, having wrenched her hand free, was now shaking with fury at being touched, at being defied. "Pretending will do you no good!" she snarled. "Guards! Tie these adulterers up and present them to the Dowager Duchess! We will see what she has to say about this filth!"
The two guards took a hesitant step forward, their faces grim. This was a dirty business, but an order was an order.
But then, the bed curtain was pulled back, just a few inches. It was just enough.
In the dim lamplight, the guards saw a sight that made their blood run cold. There on the bed, pinned beneath the new Grand Duchess, was their master, the Grand Duke Derek Thompson. A white silk cloth was tied tightly around his mouth as a gag, and his hands were bound together with the sash from Marissa's wedding dress. His eyes, wide and furious, glared at them over the gag.
One of the guards made a choked sound. The other's face went completely white. They had not just interrupted a Duchess's affair; they had barged in on the private, and clearly very strange, bedroom games of the notoriously volatile Grand Duke himself. They had been ordered to tie up their own master. This was a mistake that could cost them their lives.
"It's… it's the Grand Duke," one of them stammered, his voice trembling. He immediately dropped into a low, terrified bow. "Your Grace! Forgive us!"
"Let's leave!" the other hissed. Without waiting for a dismissal, they turned and practically fled the room, their heavy boots thudding down the hallway in their haste to escape.
The room fell into a deathly silence, leaving only Lorena and Ashlyn standing frozen in place.
Ashlyn stared, her mind unable to process what she was seeing. Her perfect, foolproof plan had shattered into a million confusing pieces. "How could this be?" she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Why… why is His Grace here?"
On the bed, Derek let out a muffled groan of pure annoyance and rolled his eyes, turning his face away to stare at the far side of the bed. He was clearly disgusted and embarrassed with the entire situation.
Lorena was trembling, the color completely drained from her face. Her authority had evaporated, and terror had taken its place. "What… what did you do to the Grand Duke?" she squeaked, her voice small and weak.
With a slow movement, Marissa slid off the bed and stood before them. Dressed only in her simple silk nightgown, her dark hair unbound, she looked ethereal and untouchable. She completely ignored her furious husband and fixed her cold eyes on the household manager.
"Our bedroom affairs," Marissa said, her voice dangerously soft, "are none of a servant's business."
She took a step forward, and Lorena flinched back. Marissa kept advancing until Lorena, stumbling backward, tripped over a rug and fell to the floor in a heap. Marissa did not offer a hand. Instead, she crouched down, bringing herself face-to-face with the terrified woman.
"Lorena," she said, her voice a silken threat. "A moment ago, you were shouting. Asking who the adulterer was. Asking who the loose woman was. Did you not?"
Lorena shook her head frantically, tears welling in her eyes. "I-I didn't mean it that way, Your Grace! I swear! I didn't know it was the Grand Duke! It's all just a small misunderstanding!"
Marissa chuckled, a low, humorless sound that sent a shiver down Lorena's spine. "A small misunderstanding?" she repeated. "You brought armed guards and barged into my bedchamber in the middle of the night. You interrupted me and my husband during our consummation, shouting insults like you own this place."
She reached out and, with a smile on her face, gave Lorena a light, stinging slap on the cheek.
TAP.
Then another.
TAP.
They were not hard, but they were infinitely more humiliating than a real blow.
"Do you want to be the Grand Duchess too?" she whispered, her smile never fading as she leaned closer to Lorena's ear. She could feel the woman shaking. "Is that it? Or is it something more personal?" Her voice dropped even lower, a serpent's hiss. "Do you have feelings for Derek?"