Chapter 62: Morning After Passion.

Chapter 62

Morning light poured softly through the high, arched windows of the grand master bedchamber, casting long golden beams across the rich velvet drapes and polished stone hearth. Sigrid stirred slowly from her sleep, her body feeling heavy with a deep, lingering exhaustion from the night’s passion. Instinctively, she shifted her legs, fully expecting the cool emptiness of the mattress she had grown accustomed to over the years. Instead, her back pressed against a solid, unyielding chest, and a heavy, iron-like arm remained securely wrapped around her waist, anchoring her to the warm bed. Gasping softly, she tilted her head back to find Duke Soren already awake, gazing down at her with a calm, unreadable intensity.

Sigrid let out a quiet sigh, a soft smile touching her lips as she adjusted herself against his arm. "Good morning, my Duke," she murmured softly.

Soren tightened his grip slightly, his low, velvety voice cutting through the quiet room. "I did not wish to disturb your slumber. Good morning, my Duchess."

Sigrid studied his face for a long moment, noticing a subtle, rare brightness in his icy blue eyes. "For a man who slept so little, you seem to be practically glowing today, Soren."

Soren’s brow furrowed in mild confusion, though he pulled her even closer against his broad chest. "I do not fully grasp your meaning, but I now understand the chatter of my comrades when they speak of consummation. It is remarkably healing, and exceedingly enjoyable."

Sigrid let out a quiet, knowing laugh, her crimson eyes gleaming with amusement. "You certainly possessed impressive skill for a man who claimed to have no prior experience, my Lord."

Soren pressed a firm, lingering kiss to her forehead. "The mechanics were not difficult to calculate, and the elder nobles speak of little else after a victorious campaign."

Sigrid reached up, her fingers gently brushing his cheek. "Well, thank you for making it such an exceptionally delightful night, Duke." Sigrid shifted her weight, intending to sit up, but a sudden, sharp ache tore through her lower back and hips, eliciting a soft gasp as she collapsed back onto the pillows.

Soren’s stoic expression shattered into pure guilt, his posture going rigid. "Did I cause you physical harm, Sigrid?" he asked, his voice laced with genuine panic.

Sigrid shook her head, offering a reassuring smile despite the sting. "Do not fret, my Lord. It is entirely normal after such an intense evening. You are, after all, a remarkably large man."

The tips of Soren’s ears instantly flushed a brilliant, charming shade of crimson at her frank declaration. Clearing his throat hastily, he slid out from the warm covers, tossing a heavy robe over his shoulders. "I shall summon Lilith immediately to assist you."

After he departed down the quiet corridor, Lilith entered the bedchamber carrying a small, polished silver jar, a broad, knowing smirk gracing her lips. Sigrid shot her maid a sharp look, wanting no playful teasing in her present state. "Save the small talk, Lilith. Let us get on with dressing."

Lilith bowed respectfully, setting the jar upon the vanity. "At once, Your Grace. The Duke insisted I bring this herbal salve. He stated it would alleviate your physical discomfort."

Sigrid raised an eyebrow in curiosity. She washed in the warm bath prepared for her, and upon stepping out, she applied the thick, fragrant balm across her lower back. Within moments, the sharp ache completely dissolved into a soothing warmth. Sigrid stared at the container in astonishment, muttering beneath her breath, "A absolute miracle... the North possesses astonishingly potent remedies."

Dressed in an elegant, structured morning gown of deep sapphire velvet, Sigrid descended the grand stone staircase, her maid trailing closely behind. She entered the sunlit dining hall where Soren sat at the head of the long table, reading through a stack of military reports over a warm breakfast spread. Sigrid paused near the threshold, bowing her head slightly. "I shall not be joining you for breakfast this morning, Soren."

Soren set his papers down, his brows knitting into a stern frown. "Why so? Is the food not to your liking?"

Sigrid smiled softly. "I have a sudden craving to purchase fresh pastries and sweets from the Capital, and I am simply not in the mood for a heavy meal."

Soren nodded slowly in understanding. Sigrid stepped closer to the table, her crimson eyes flashing with a touch of sharp mischief. "Furthermore, my Lord, I intend to threaten a few insolent individuals using your name today, and I plan to purchase several exceedingly expensive items or shops if so be it."

Soren offered a rare, subtle twitch of his lips, utterly unbothered. "You bear my surname now, Sigrid. Use my name and authority as you see fit."

Encouraged by his complete trust, Sigrid held out her hand. "In that case, I require direct access to our fortress’s main treasury today."

Without a single second of hesitation, Soren reached into his coat pocket, drew out a heavy, ornate iron key, and placed it directly into her palm. Sigrid blinked in genuine surprise. "You will not even ask what I intend to do with our fortune?"

Soren picked up his teacup, speaking with calm absolute confidence. "Use it as you deem necessary. House Aethermor does not lack for coin."

Sigrid offered a deep, graceful curtsy, clutching the heavy iron key tightly in her hand. "You are most generous, my Lord." Motioning to her maid, she turned on her heel. "Come along, Lilith." As they walked down the wide stone corridor toward the lower vaults, Sigrid could not resist tilting her head back, whispering under her breath, "Is it not truly grand to possess a husband who is both phenomenally wealthy and entirely generous?" Lilith smiled warmly. "It is a rare blessing, Your Grace." Sigrid scoffed quietly, her gaze darkening with bitter memories of her past life. Indeed... far superior to the greedy, controlling worm of an ex-husband I once had to endure.

Pausing near the archive room, Sigrid instructed Lilith to fetch fresh parchment, ink, and a quill. Reaching the iron doors of the central vault, Sigrid unlocked the heavy mechanisms and stepped inside. Her crimson eyes widened in quiet shock as the torchlight reflected off towering stacks of raw gold bullion, cut emeralds, and unrefined jewels resting in massive wooden chests. The sheer volume of raw wealth was staggering, yet it sat entirely dormant due to Soren’s complete neglect of economic trade. "No matter," Sigrid murmured, a cold determination settling into her chest. "I have arrived, and I shall turn this forgotten hoard into absolute power."

When Lilith returned with the writing supplies, Sigrid systematically cataloged every single chest, counting every bar of gold and gemstone with terrifying precision. Her photographic memory recorded the entire ledger instantly, but she handed the official parchment back to Lilith. "Keep this secure in my private desk." Turning to Chester, who stood guard outside the vault, she commanded, "Pack four heavy bars of raw gold. We are making a trip to the royal banking hall in the capital district."

A grand, black-and-silver carriage awaited them in the courtyard. As Sigrid approached the steps, she found Soren standing beside the horses, his dark cloak wrapped tightly against the winter wind. He stepped toward her, his icy eyes searching her face. "Do not tarry too long in the Capital, Sigrid. We have an official evening ball to attend tonight."

Sigrid smiled, smoothing down her furs. "I am well aware, my Lord. As much as I despise it, tonight’s ball will prove exceptionally beneficial."

The carriage journey to the commercial capital was swift and smooth. Upon arriving before the grand marble pillars of the royal banking guild, an attendant in crisp uniform stepped forward to meet them with a patronizing, indifferent air. Sigrid motioned for Chester to set the heavy chest containing the four gold bullion bars onto the front counter. "I require these four bars exchanged into liquid gold currency immediately," Sigrid demanded calmly.

The teller glanced at the raw metal, waving his hand dismissively without looking up at her face. "The bank regulation strictly limits raw bullion exchange to two bars per person, Milady. You must return another day."

Sigrid’s eyes narrowed sharply at the blatant lie. Right beside her counter, a wealthy merchant in rich velvet approached a neighboring teller and effortlessly exchanged six massive bars of raw silver without a single question asked. Sigrid stepped closer to the counter, her voice dropping into a freezing, authoritative tone that caused the surrounding guards to stiffen. "You will address me with the proper reverence and respect I am owed. I am Duchess Sigrid Aethermor. You will process all four of my gold bars this instant, or I shall have my husband, Duke Soren, personally dismantle this establishment and inspect your fraudulent ledgers himself."

The teller’s face drained of all color the moment the Duke’s fearsome name echoed through the hall. Stuttering nervously, he immediately grabbed the four bars, frantically weighing and counting out the coins without another second of delay. "P-pardon my grave error, Your Grace! The exchange comes to a total of four hundred gold coins!"

Sigrid offered a cold, satisfied smile, sliding fifty shiny gold coins back across the counter. "Consider fifty coins a formal donation to your guild... so that you may better educate your staff on proper nobility."

Chester secured the remaining three hundred and fifty heavy gold coins into a leather traveling chest, carrying it back out to the waiting carriage. As the carriage pulled away from the banking hall, Lilith leaned forward, her curiosity finally breaking through her professional demeanor. "Your Grace... where are we heading now with such a massive sum of liquid coin?"

Sigrid leaned back against the silk cushions, a sharp, dangerous smile curving her lips as her crimson eyes gleamed with cold anticipation. "We are going to settle a debt with that arrogant, insolent business owner who dared to publicly disrespect us last week."

Lilith’s eyes widened slightly. "What do you intend to do to his estate, Milady?"

Sigrid chuckled softly, her voice dripping with venom. "Oh, I am not going to touch him directly. We shall let his own greed destroy him."

Before Lilith could ask further, the carriage came to a smooth halt, and the driver called out through the wooden hatch, "Your Grace, we have arrived at the Warwick family manor."

Sigrid smoothed her skirts, her smile widening into a predatory glare. "Excellent. Our retribution begins right here."