The Duke’s Proposal
815 Words
Chapter Six
The night did not quiet down after her declaration.
If anything, it sharpened.
The banquet had dissolved into nervous laughter and whispered speculation, but Camila—Elisha—felt none of it touch her. She had already won the first battle. The court had seen her alive. Seen her unbroken. Seen her unafraid.
Now they watched her like a blade laid on velvet — admired, feared, and terribly misunderstood.
She slipped from the hall beneath thepretense of exhaustion, her body still weak, but her will ironclad. For some reason, the banquet was extended more than usual. Moonlight lined the corridor windows in pale silver, bathing the marble floor in ghostly glow.
“You walked into a den of vipers and smiled.”
His voice came from behind her.
She did not turn immediately. She already knew it was him.
“And yet,” she replied, “none dared strike.”
Footsteps approached, steady, unhurried. Duke Adrian Blackwell came to stand beside her, his dark presence a counterpoint to the faint moonlight spilling over her pale figure.
“You unsettled them,” he said. “Even the prince.”
“That was the intention.”
His gaze lingered on her face, unreadable as ever, but sharper now — as if trying to carve the truth from her very bones.
“You are provoking a battle you can not yet win,” he continued. “They will move against you.”
She finally turned to him, her expression calm and infuriatingly serene. “Good. I would hate for them to grow complacent.”
A quiet sigh escaped him — frustrated, impressed, intrigued, perhaps all at once.“You intrigue me more with each reckless word, Lady Camila,” he murmured.
“And you watch me with alarming interest, Your Grace.”
A beat of silence.
Then his voice lowered, controlled yet intent. “I did not defend you in that hall merely out of amusement.”
Her brow arched faintly. “Then why?”
“Because power aligns with clarity,” he said. “And yours is… awakening.”
A breath passed between them, heavy with restrained tension.
“I propose an arrangement.”
That caught her attention.
“An arrangement?” she echoed.
Adrian stepped closer, not invading her space, but enough that the air between them tightened.
“You are vulnerable,” he said, honest to the point of brutality. “Newly awakened, politically isolated, and surrounded by enemies wearing silks. You will need protection — not of the sword alone, but of influence.”
“And what do you gain from this protection?” she asked smoothly.
His gaze darkened. “Access.”“To what?”
“To the storm you are becoming.”
A faint smile curved her lips. “And here I thought you disliked chaos.”
“I dislike stupidity,” he corrected. “You are not stupid. You are deliberate — and dangerous. Such things deserve direction.”
“Or ownership?” she challenged.
A subtle edge of amusement flickered in his eyes. “Do I strike you as a man who cages what he respects?”
There it was again.
That careful, unsettling word.Respect.
Elisha studied him — the rigid posture, the sharp intellect, the man the court whispered of in fear. A fox in noble garb. A wolf with the patience of stone.
“And this arrangement?” she asked quietly.
“I will offer you my alliance,” Adrian said. “My name. My influence. My presence in your shadow when the court dares turn against you.”
“And in return?”
“You will allow me to stand at your side,” he said simply. “Publicly. Privately. Strategically.”
A dangerous closeness pulsed between them now. Not attraction alone — but recognition. The kind two predators shared before deciding whether to hunt together… or against one another.
“You play a bold game, Duke Blackwell,” she murmured.
“I prefer winning games,” he replied. “And you, Lady Camila, are the most intriguing board I have yet seen.”
Her laughter was soft and brief, like the whisper of silk.
“Very well,” she said at last. “An alliance.”
“But understand this,” she added, gaze sharpening. “I do not belong to anyone. Not my parents. Not the prince. And certainly not you.”
His lips curved faintly. “I would be disappointed if you did.”
He offered his hand.
After a heartbeat’s pause, she placed hers in it.
His touch was warm. Firm. Unyielding.
A pact forged in moonlight and danger.
From the shadows of the corridor, unseen eyes watched — jealous, fearful, calculating.
And as Adrian’s fingers tightened subtly around Camila’s hand, the unspoken truthtrembled silently between them:
This was no longer mere revenge.
This was the beginning of a reign.
- Writer
