Fated Eclipse: The Illegitimate Princess And Her Alpha Suitors

Chapter 288: The Comfort of Silence

Chapter 287: The Comfort of Silence

Lyria’s POV

"I t-told you I could s-stand though," I said, my voice still carrying a note of protest as I looked down at the Duke’s head resting comfortably in my lap.

Duke Valenridge seemed perfectly content, his breathing slow and even, as though he had already begun to drift toward sleep.

"Perhaps you have forgotten," he said, his voice drowsy, "that you have only recently begun recovering. Standing for an extended period would not be wise. You need to conserve your strength."

"My s-shoes are p-padded," I said, trying another angle. "T-they are quite comfortable. I c-could stand for h-hours without i-issue."

He was quiet for a moment, as though considering this. Then he spoke again.

"Padded shoes do not negate the fact that you are still healing," he said. "Your body requires rest, not additional strain. You may feel well now, but pushing yourself too soon could cause a relapse."

"R-raise y-your head," I said instead of acknowledging his words. "So I c-can stand. Then you will b-be more c-comfortable."

He did not move.

Instead, he settled himself more deeply against my lap, adjusting his position. His weight shifted slightly, and I felt the warmth of him through the fabric of my dress.

"I am too tired to stand," he said simply.

"Then you c-can at l-least s-sit up," I tried again. "You c-could lean a-against the back of the b-bench. That w-would still be c-comfortable."

He shook his head slightly, a small, lazy motion.

"Rather than arguing with me," he said, "you should be studying. Julian may not look it, but he is quite strict. He will expect progress when next you meet."

"B-baron Redwick l-looks strict," I said. "He a-always appears q-quite serious."

Duke Valenridge smiled at that.

"That is true," he admitted. "He does. He has a face made for sternness. But beneath that stern exterior, he is quite patient. He would not have offered to teach you if he were not willing to put in the effort."

There was a pause, and then he sighed, a long, contented sound that seemed to come from somewhere deep within him.

"You smell good," he said. "It calms me down. Your scent is quite soothing."

I made a face at that, my cheeks warming.

"That is a s-strange t-thing to say," I said.

"Perhaps," he agreed. "But it is true nonetheless."

"Study," he said, as though he had not just said something entirely inappropriate. "You have a tutor to impress."

I rolled my eyes, but I did as he said. I dragged the book closer, my fingers finding the page where I had left off. The words were familiar now, the shapes becoming easier to recognize with each passing moment.

Time passed in silence.

The light shifted through the tall library windows, casting long shadows across the floor. Dust motes danced in the golden beams, suspended and lazy. The sounds from the training grounds below gradually faded as the men finished their exercises and retreated indoors.

For some reason, I did not feel the slightest discomfort at having Duke Valenridge’s head resting on my lap. It was strange—improper, certainly—but it felt natural.

Minutes, or perhaps hours, passed, and at some point, the training below ended completely.

Duke Valenridge opened his eyes.

I looked down at him, my hand resting on a page.

"Did you r-rest w-well?" I asked.

He smiled, a slow, genuine expression that softened the sharp lines of his face.

"Yes," he said. "It was actually the best rest I have had in quite some time. Perhaps that is because of your scent."

I was this close to asking him what he meant by that.

Earl Hawthorne had mentioned my scent. Baron Redwick had mentioned it too. Even Duke Thorncrest had spoken of it. And now Duke Valenridge was speaking about it as well.

I was wolfless, so I was not supposed to...

I shook my head.

Perhaps he was merely referring to my perfume.

"Did you make progress with your studies?" he asked, changing the subject.

I nodded.

"I recognise m-more words now," I said. "I am a-also getting b-better at p-pronouncing them."

"Tell me some," he said. "It has been a while since I studied anything. I find myself curious."

I paused, somewhat taken aback by his words.

"You will b-be bored," I said.

He shook his head.

"There are few things that bore me," he said. "And you are definitely not included. Tell me some words you have learned. I want to hear them."

I was quiet for a moment, and perhaps he took that for hesitation.

"I am not going to mock you," he added.

"I know," I said. "If you w-wanted to mock me, you w-would have done so f-from the first day w-we met."

He smiled again, and I took a deep breath.

"I may n-not pronounce them w-well," I said, my voice small.

"Do not concern yourself with that," he said. "Just tell me. Besides, I doubt you will pronounce them poorly. You have been working hard."

I remained quiet for a moment longer.

Then I began.

"E-eloquence," I said carefully, sounding out each syllable.

"F-fortitude," I continued, gaining confidence.

"G-g-garrulous."

"M-melancholy."

"P-perspicacity," I said, the word feeling strange upon my tongue.

"T-tenacity."

I paused and looked down at him.

He was very still, his eyes closed, and for a moment I wondered if he had fallen asleep.

"Are you l-listening?" I asked.

"I am," he said. "You are good. Very good, in fact."

I smiled, a small warmth spreading through my chest.

"Baron Redwick t-taught m-me well," I said.

He was quiet for a moment, his expression shifting. Then he opened his eyes and looked up at me, his pale green gaze steady and serious.

"You know," he said, "that if you ever need help, you can come to me, do you not?"

I stared at him.

"What b-brought this on?" I asked.

He shrugged, a lazy motion.

"I simply felt like telling you," he said. "Sometimes I think you carry too much weight alone. You need people with whom you can share it. If you ever require help, even if it is the simplest thing, you may come to me. I will help you in any way I can."

I opened my mouth to respond, to ask him why he would offer such a thing at this exact moment, but before I could speak, I heard footsteps approaching.

Baron Redwick appeared around the corner, his guard behind him. He was still dressed for training, his shirt slightly damp with sweat, his hair dishevelled from exertion.

He stopped when he saw us.

His eyes moved from Duke Valenridge’s head resting on my lap to my face, and his brow furrowed deeply. He adjusted his spectacles, the gesture slow, as though he were trying to make sense of what he was seeing.

"What is going on?" he asked.