Chapter 36: The Lucky Star

Chapter 36: Chapter 36: The Lucky Star

His hair was still damp from the bath.

Dark strands fell loosely over his shoulders, droplets trailing down the strong line of his neck before disappearing beneath the collar of his robe.

The moisture softened some of the sharpness in Cassiel’s features, making him appear younger than usual.

Elysia found herself staring.

Then, unfortunately, she remembered the feel of his arm beneath her hand.

Strong.

Solid.

Warm.

Her ears immediately grew hot again.

She couldn’t understand it.

A man like Cassiel was handsome, powerful, respected across the kingdom, and possessed a physique most women would lose their senses over.

So why was everyone convinced he had some beloved hidden away somewhere?

Was there truly something wrong with him?

Some strange flaw no one knew about?

A bizarre secret?

"What are you thinking?"

Cassiel’s voice pulled her from her thoughts.

Elysia nearly choked.

She certainly couldn’t answer, I’m wondering if you have some terrible hidden vice.

Instead, she smiled politely.

"I was wondering whether you’re hungry."

Surely food wasn’t a dangerous topic.

"Would you allow me to prepare something special? A small feast to celebrate your recovery."

Cassiel studied her for a moment.

During his months of unconsciousness, he had overheard enough conversations to know one thing.

Elysia’s cooking was apparently exceptional.

"Yes."

Relief flashed through her.

"Do you have any preferences? Anything you dislike?"

"I’m not picky."

Cassiel leaned back in his chair.

"You decide."

"Alright."

Elysia nodded and hurried from the room.

The moment she left, Bran slipped inside.

Cassiel was still dressed only in his inner robes.

Bran quickly fetched a heavier outer garment and began helping him dress.

"How has the manor been?" Cassiel asked.

The question immediately brightened Bran’s face.

"Everything’s running smoothly, Your Grace. Better than that, actually."

He adjusted Cassiel’s sleeve.

"Her Grace is remarkable."

Cassiel said nothing.

Bran took that as encouragement and continued enthusiastically.

"Lady Melissa tried every trick she could think of to keep hold of the estate accounts. Pretended to be ill. Refused to hand over the ledgers. Claimed nobody else understood how things worked."

A grin spread across his face.

"Her Grace solved it all in a single morning."

Cassiel’s lips twitched faintly.

Bran continued.

"She increased wages for the servants, improved the kitchens, stopped several dishonest suppliers from overcharging the estate, and every afternoon, she has chilled pea soup distributed to the servants because of the heat."

He chuckled.

"The staff adore her."

Cassiel raised an eyebrow.

"Do they?"

Bran nodded vigorously.

"They’ve started calling her the manor’s lucky star."

Lucky star.

The phrase lingered in Cassiel’s thoughts.

Unexpectedly fitting.

Just then Bran remembered something.

"Oh. The palace heard about your recovery."

Cassiel’s expression sharpened.

"The palace?"

"Yes, the Crown Prince visited the manor to check on you."

Cassiel’s gaze immediately hardened.

"And?"

"Her Grace received him."

A brief silence followed.

Bran wisely continued before that silence became dangerous.

"Don’t worry, she didn’t give him an inch."

Grinning, he recounted the entire encounter.

Vaelen’s assumptions.

Elysia’s responses.

The way the Crown Prince eventually left in a fit of temper.

Throughout the story, Cassiel remained silent.

Only the slow tapping of his fingers against the armrest betrayed his thoughts.

Bran leaned closer.

"I may have helped a little."

Cassiel glanced at him.

"A little?"

Bran looked entirely too pleased with himself.

"I might’ve mentioned that you think highly of Her Grace."

Cassiel raised a brow.

"Might’ve?"

"And that you intend to treat her well."

The corner of Cassiel’s mouth twitched.

"You’ve become rather crafty."

Bran puffed up proudly.

"Years of serving you have taught me a few things, Your Grace."

Cassiel gave a quiet hum.

Then his expression became serious.

"Have you received any news from the army?"

Bran’s smile vanished.

The shift was immediate.

"Not good."

He lowered his voice.

"Without you, the commanders can’t agree on anything. There have been reports of disputes between officers and fights among the troops. The northern tribes have also started testing the borders again."

Cassiel listened silently.

After a long moment, he spoke.

"Send orders."

Bran straightened.

"A council of all commanding officers, three days from now at the Northern Garrison."

His gaze sharpened.

"Mandatory attendance."

Relief flooded Bran’s face.

"Yes, Your Grace."

Not long afterward, Elysia returned.

Servants followed behind her carrying tray after tray of food.

Only when the fourth tray arrived did Cassiel realize this was not simply dinner.

She had truly prepared a feast in honor of his awakening.

The moment the lids were lifted, the room filled with rich, mouthwatering aromas.

Even Bran looked tempted.

Elysia directed the servants as each dish was arranged on the table.

Then she began introducing them.

"Minced venison and currant pies."

She pointed to the next dish.

"Cider-braised duck with orchard fruits."

Another.

"Spiced pear tarte."

Finally, a small porcelain bowl.

"And hazelnut sage cream for dessert."

Her smile softened.

Cassiel sampled the first dish.

Then the second.

Then the third.

By the fourth, even Bran could tell he was impressed.

The food was extraordinary.

Rich without being heavy.

Elegant without being pretentious.

Comforting in a way Cassiel couldn’t quite describe.

No wonder Miriam constantly boasted about her mistress’s cooking.

Cassiel found himself reaching for second servings.

Then thirds.

A memory surfaced.

He remembered hearing that Elysia had learned from Aunt Imogen.

He also remembered overhearing countless conversations about pastries and meals being delivered to the Crown Prince’s Wing.

For years.

Meaning Vaelen had eaten food like this regularly.

Cassiel’s expression darkened slightly.

Lucky bastard.

He took another bite.

With considerably more force than necessary.

"Oh."

Elysia suddenly remembered something.

"My lord?"

Cassiel looked up.

"What is it?"

"Princess Sylrienne’s birthday banquet is in three days. The invitation arrived while you were still unconscious."

She hesitated.

"I accepted on behalf of Draevenor Manor."

Cassiel looked mildly surprised.

Then he shook his head.

"You are the Duchess. Receiving invitations and responding to them falls within your authority. There is no need to ask permission."

Relief crossed Elysia’s face.

"Will you attend?"

Cassiel lowered his spoon.

"I have military matters to resolve that day."

The disappointment that flashed across her face was brief.

But he still noticed it.

After a moment, Cassiel added casually,

"If my business concludes early..."

His gaze settled on hers.

"...I’ll join you."

Elysia blinked.

Then smiled.

The expression was small.

Genuine.

And unexpectedly bright.

For some reason, Cassiel found himself looking forward to the banquet a great deal more than he had a moment ago.