Chapter 1 A Marriage She Cannot Refuse
Three years ago, everyone in Eldermere City knew the same truth. The noble heir Adrian Vale, a man of elegance and untouchable grace, had married an orchard laborer and made her his duchess consort.
Three years later, everyone in Eldermere City knew it still. The same Adrian, who once cherished his duchess consort above all else, now intended to take a lotus picker as his secondary consort.
Elaine Hart's gaze fell on the hand Adrian had draped around Lydia Marlowe's waist.
"Adrian, I do not consent to this marriage."
Adrian sighed, his expression laced with restrained impatience. "Elaine, Lydia is a fragile girl. She has lost her memory, and now that spring has come, there are no lotus blooms to harvest. She has no means to survive. You once made your living picking leaves yourself; how can you show so little compassion?"
Elaine lowered her eyes, her voice quiet, steeped in sorrow. "If you only wish to help her, there are other ways. You could grant her a residence, provide her with coins, or find her a suitable husband…"
At the words "a suitable husband," Adrian's expression darkened abruptly. "Elaine!" His voice turned sharp. "I am informing you, not asking for your approval. In three days, Lydia will enter this household."
"Then… please grant me a decree of dissolution." Elaine spoke so softly it was almost a whisper, yet to Adrian, it struck like thunder.
A cold, unfamiliar cruelty flickered in his eyes as he stared at the obedient woman before him. "Elaine. Have you forgotten? Your mother still relies on costly medicines every single day."
With a flick of his sleeve, he stepped aside. Behind him, several servants carried a frail woman on a stretcher. Her eyes were closed, the creases at their corners damp; she had clearly been crying.
Elaine's breath caught. She rushed forward, her trembling fingers brushing against her mother's face. Tears slipped down her cheeks, but she bit back her sobs, refusing to speak.
Adrian had clearly prepared for this. "If you leave me," he said coldly, "what will you use to keep your mother alive?"
Elaine lifted her tearful gaze. "I can work… I can pick coffee cherries…"
"The few coppers you earn?" he cut in, impatient. "Not even enough to buy a bowl." He waved dismissively. "That's enough. Stop this childish defiance. Lydia will only be the secondary consort. Your position as duchess consort will remain untouched."
Lydia looked up with wide, glistening eyes, like a frightened fawn. "Elaine… I only admire Lord Adrian. I have no other intentions…"
Adrian's gaze softened instantly. His voice turned gentle as he led Lydia away to select her bridal chambers.
Elaine's mother was carried back to the garden house within the manor to recover, leaving Elaine alone at the gates, her figure dim and solitary.
She knew this well. Once Adrian made a decision, nothing in this world could make him turn back. She had learned that truth all too personally.
Three years ago, when Adrian passed by the coffee plantation, he saw Elaine picking ripe cherries beneath the morning sun.
Her eyes were clear as spring water. Her fingers moved with effortless grace, dancing among the branches.
He had smiled at her then, refined and gentle, with a faint trace of distant coolness. "Miss, is there any particular method to harvesting at dawn?"
Startled, Elaine froze. A blush crept across her cheeks before she realized he was speaking to her.
That morning, she spent hours explaining everything, from selecting the ripest cherries to laying them out for drying and processing them into a refined product.
She spoke with quiet dedication. He listened, utterly captivated. From that day on, he would travel dozens of miles before dawn, just to see her.
They picked coffee cherries together. They dried them beneath the sun. They waited side by side for the simple meals her mother brought.
Her mother would always worry whether such plain fare suited a nobleman of his standing. He would always smile and say that nothing was more comforting than the taste of an ordinary home.
