Chapter 74: The Duke’s Guarded Soul [2]

Chapter 74

Soren remained rooted to his seat, his massive frame radiating an oppressive, suffocating tension that filled every inch of the darkened carriage. Sigrid’s heart hammered against her ribs, her mind racing as she grappled with the sheer shock of his reaction. Never before had anyone sensed the subtle, mysterious thread of her divine sight when she sought to peer into their soul.

In this new life after getting the gift she had used it on a good number of people but all had fallen victim to her quiet scrutiny without ever discerning the magical intrusion. Yet here sat the Duke of the North, meeting her gaze with an intensity so sharp it felt as though he could physically perceive the invisible magic recoiling back into her eyes.

The silence stretched between them, heavy and suffocating, until Soren spoke again, his smooth baritone dropping into a dangerously low register that vibrated through the plush velvet cushions. "Duchess... what precisely do you think you are doing?"

Sigrid forced her features into an absolute mask of composure, suppressing the erratic rhythm of her heart. She tilted her chin upward, closing her eyes for a brief, calculated second to compose her thoughts and absorb the lingering, hot throb behind her brow a consequence of her probing. When her crimson eyes opened once more, she met his piercing blue gaze with solemn, unwavering seriousness, refusing to offer a desperate lie while shielding the full extent of her rebirth. "I was merely searching for answers deep within your eyes, my lord," she stated flatly, her tone even and unbothered.

Soren’s eyes widened by a fraction, a quiet breath escaping his lips as he searched her face for a trace of deceit. "Hmm," he murmured softly, the low sound rumbling in his chest as though her cryptic answer somehow satisfied his immediate suspicion, or perhaps because he recognized the futility of pressing her further in that moment.

His rigid posture softened just a fraction, though his gaze remained locked onto her face. "Did you stare so intensely into the dark that your eyes have begun to water, Sigrid?" he asked softly.

Sigrid blinked in genuine confusion, raising a gloved hand to her cheek only to feel a stray, warm tear trailing down her pale skin—a physical consequence of her magical backfire. "Yes... perhaps I did," she admitted quietly.

Soren reached into his coat, producing a crisp linen handkerchief. Stepping across the narrow space of the carriage, he leaned down and gently dabbed the moisture from her cheek, his touch surprisingly soft despite the prior suspicion that filled his eyes just moments before. "You ought to exercise far greater caution, Duchess," he murmured, his face mere inches from hers. "As the old adage warns, excessive curiosity has brought about the end of many a creature."

Sigrid looked up into his stoic face, noting that while his voice had gentled, his massive body had not entirely relaxed. "Do not distress yourself, my Duke," she replied, her voice steadying. "I am no fragile creature, nor shall I be undone by mere curiosity."

Soren looked down at her for a long beat before pulling back. "Yes," he whispered softly. "Of that, I am well aware."

Before another word could pass between them, the carriage came to a smooth halt, and Commander Orion’s stern voice called out from the driver’s bench. "We have arrived at the fortress, Your Grace."

Soren immediately stepped through the carriage door, offering his broad hand to assist Sigrid down onto the stone courtyard. Once her boots met the ground, he released her fingers and gestured toward the grand entrance. "Go on ahead inside, Sigrid. I have urgent matters to conclude with my commanders before the night ends."

Lilith hurried over from the trailing escort carriage, bowing deeply as she approached. "Milady..." the maid began, her voice trailing off as she watched Sigrid staring intensely at the Duke’s retreating back. Sigrid let out a sharp, dismissive huff, turning on her heel and sweeping toward the grand entrance with an abruptness that left poor Lilith entirely bewildered. Lilith scrambled to keep pace as the Duchess marched through the vaulted corridors, her dark skirts rustling aggressively against the polished stone floors.

Sigrid swept into the master bedchamber she shared with Soren, shutting the heavy oak door behind her with unnecessary force. Without waiting for Lilith’s assistance, she began stripping off her jewels, tossing the diamond earclips onto the vanity before peeling the long velvet gloves from her hands. Her hands trembled slightly as she gripped the edge of the marble table, staring at her reflection in the glass. The ghost of Soren’s gaze burned in her mind—that sharp, glinting blue under the moonlight, shadowed by unhidden, lethal suspicion.

It had been an eternity since she had seen such an expression on his face. In her previous life, as the discarded queen of the empire, she had frequently summoned the feared Northern Warlord to her throne room, burdening him with endless, bloody campaigns to fight to weaken him despite knowing how futile it was. Back then, Soren had always looked upon her with that exact same look of deep, dangerous mistrust. In this second timeline, however, he had offered her tolerance, quiet protection, and even rare glimpses of profound warmth. He had never looked at her with genuine suspicion—not even when she had abruptly proposed their political alliance out of nowhere. To see that cold guard raised against her once more pierced her chest far deeper than she cared to admit.

"Milady," Lilith’s soft voice broke through the suffocating silence, her face etched with quiet concern as she stepped into the chamber. "Would you care for a late evening tray to be brought up to the room?"

Sigrid closed her eyes, exhaling slowly to steady her composure. "No. I require nothing." Turning away from the vanity, she walked out onto the cold stone balcony, resting her hands against the carved railing as the chill night wind swept past her hair. Looking down into the lower courtyard, she spotted Soren standing near the armory torches, surrounded by several high-ranking officers. As if sensing her presence above, several of the officers glanced up, immediately bowing their heads in deep respect toward their Duchess, but Soren kept his piercing gaze locked directly onto her from below.

Sigrid let out a quiet, breathless laugh, pulling back into the shadows of the balcony. "Did such a simple answer truly satisfy you, my brooding Duke, or are you merely biding your time?" she muttered into the dark before turning to retire for the night.

*****

The morning sun rose bright and clear over the Northern Fortress, casting brilliant rays of gold across the manicured courtyard gardens. Sigrid sat gracefully at a wrought-iron table beneath the shade of a flowering tree, her crimson eyes watching the youth seated opposite her. Surprisingly, young Leo had not fled back into the alleyways of the lower districts come morning; whether driven by professional pride or sheer stubbornness, the young journalist had remained precisely where Orion’s mother had housed him.

Lilith stepped forward, carefully placing a delicate porcelain teacup onto the table before the boy, making Leo shift uncomfortably in his seat as he eyed the fine cup with immense suspicion and wariness. Sigrid cleared her throat softly to draw his attention, leaning back against her chair. "While it is perhaps somewhat tardy for formal introductions, propriety demands it nonetheless," she began smoothly. "I am Duchess Sigrid Thea Aethermor. And you, young man?"

The boy swallowed hard, adjusting his satchel strap as he stammered, "I am... Leo. A journalist of the capital press."

Sigrid let out a light, melodious chuckle. "A wonderful introduction indeed."

Sigrid rested her elbows on the armrests, folding her slender hands together. "To begin, I must extend my gratitude to you for refraining from rushing your scoop to the printing presses last night."

Leo puffed out his chest slightly, attempting to look older than his fifteen years. "Well... you asked politely enough, Your Grace. And you promised I would be compensated handsomely for my silence."

Sigrid smiled, a sharp, calculating gleam flashing in her eyes. "Indeed. I require you to withhold the publication of Prince Ragnar’s disgraceful conduct until the exact moment I deem most advantageous. You shall be paid grandly for your patience and obedience."

Leo nodded slowly, though his sharp eyes darted across her face with intense curiosity. "I do not mind waiting for a fortune, Your Grace... but may I ask two questions first?" Sigrid tilted her head, gesturing gracefully for him to proceed. "Why do you not treat me like a foolish child? Or forcefully take my work?" Leo asked blithely.

Sigrid offered a faint smile. "Would you prefer to be treated like a child, or would you rather I confiscate your hard-earned work?" Leo immediately shook his head in violent refusal. "Good. Besides, you stood your ground before the Duke of the North without cowering. Why should I treat someone so remarkably resilient as a helpless youth?"

A bright, proud shine lit up Leo’s eyes at her words, his defensive posture melting away entirely. He leaned forward, dropping his voice into a conspiratorial whisper for his second question. "Are you suppressing this scandalous story to protect Prince Ragnar because you still harbor romantic feelings for him?"

At his absurd query, Lilith gasped softly behind her mistress, her posture stiffening in horror. Sigrid merely stared at the boy, utterly dumbfounded by the sheer ridiculousness of the rumor. "Whatever could possess you to arrive at such a ludicrous conclusion?" Sigrid inquired flatly.

Leo smirked knowingly. "The capital streets are filled with talk! They say you held deep affection for the Golden Prince, but because you realized you had no hope of winning his heart over your saintly step-sister, you meekly surrendered him to Lady Maria."

Sigrid slowly stood up from her chair, her presence casting a cold, imposing shadow over the table as her crimson eyes narrowed into icy slits. "Do not be mistaken, Leo," Sigrid declared, her voice dripping with profound contempt. "I harbor no sweet or loving affection whatsoever for the Imperial Prince. In truth, my feelings toward him are quite the absolute opposite."

Leo’s eyes widened with intense, journalistic fascination as he leaned in further. "Is that so? How fascinating—"

Sigrid let out a quiet, amused laugh, cutting him off before he could pry deeper. "Perhaps I shall grant you the full explanation when the time is right."

Leo immediately pouted, crossing his arms like a disappointed child. Looking down at his childish display, Sigrid thought to herself, To pout so brazenly in my presence... he truly is nothing more than a child after all. Realizing her own hypocrisy after praising his maturity moments prior, she quietly muttered under her breath, "Hypocrite."

Sigrid raised her hand, signaling her head butler who stood waiting near the garden archway. "Chester, arrange for an unaffiliated carriage driver to transport young Leo safely back to his sanctuary. Ensure he wants for nothing."

Turning back to the boy, she offered a commanding nod. "I shall send word when the hour arrives for your article to shatter the capital, Leo." The boy stood up, offering a surprisingly crisp, respectful bow before following Chester out of the courtyard.

Lilith stepped forward, watching the carriage disappear down the driveway. "Milady... what is it that you truly plan to do with the Crown Prince?"

Sigrid’s lips curved into a dark, radiant smile. She gestured to a passing servant, commanding crisply, "Bring me parchment, ink, and my personal wax seal at once." Within moments, Sigrid sat at the table, her quill gliding effortlessly across the heavy paper as she penned a swift, highly calculated missive. Once finished, she folded the parchment and sealed it with the official crest of the Duchess of Aethermor. Handing the letter to a high-ranking ducal guard, Sigrid commanded in an unyielding tone, "This missive must be delivered directly into the hands of Her Imperial Majesty, the Empress. Ensure no intermediate hands—neither the Prince’s nor my step-sister’s—intercept it. I do not care what measures you must employ to see it done."

The guard bowed sharply and departed at once. Lilith looked at her mistress, still utterly bewildered by the sudden political maneuvering. "Milady... what exactly are you attempting to accomplish by contacting the Queen?"

Sigrid stood up, smoothing the front of her dark gown as her crimson eyes glowed with a predatory light. "I am simply setting my trap, Lilith," she whispered softly, her mind already anticipating the coming storm. And now, we merely wait for the foolish fish to swallow the bait whole.