Jewelry Box

Ch. 8 A Secret

Alexander

I kept my hood low, the night wind scattering leaves across the forest floor. The silence here was absolute, thick, unsettling, the kind that made men shift uncomfortably and listen for shadows.

My men followed behind me, wordless, disciplined. We were far outside the city walls, in the kind of place only thieves or desperate men wandered.

“Welcome,” a familiar voice cut through the quiet.

I smiled faintly beneath the hood and stepped closer. Taking a seat near the fire, I looked up to find Carlo waiting, his ever-watchful green eyes meeting mine.

“It’s been a while, Alexander,” he said with a knowing grin.

“I know.” My voice was even. “Why call me out here?”

He scanned the trees, cautious as always. My men kept their distance, standing guard in the dark.

“They’re trustworthy,” I told him, sensing his unease. “Now speak.”

Carlo’s grin sharpened.

“Word is, you’re getting married to the daughter of the Lombardy family. Quite the catch.”

“Yes.” I leaned back. “But I assume you didn’t drag me out here just to gossip.”

“I’ve heard the Lombardys are searching for gems. Not ordinary stones, Alexander.” His eyes gleamed with curiosity, and something darker.

I raised a brow.

“And?”

He smirked.

“I just want to know why. Why her? Why now?”

“Carlo.” My voice dipped in warning. But he’d never been the type to back down.

“Circumstances,” I muttered at last, bracing my elbows on my knees.

He studied me in silence, sharp as ever. “Are you planning to hurt her?”

My gaze lingered on the fire, flames writhing against the wind. I didn’t answer, not at first. The truth wasn’t something I cared about.

“I have a plan,” I said finally. “I can’t promise she won’t get hurt. Maybe she will.” My lips curved. “But I need more information on those gems. Get it for me.”

Carlo nodded, though his eyes were hard. As I turned to leave, I heard him murmur, just low enough for me to catch it.

“Don’t hurt her. Love her.”

***

Later that night, sleep wouldn’t come. I sat upright in bed, fingers raking through damp hair, eyes fixed on the chandelier’s heavy drapes. The house was silent, too silent, pressing in around me.

I sighed, rubbing a hand over my face, and reached for the jug of water at my bedside. Empty. With a growl, I rose and slipped into the quiet halls.

The kitchen was just as still, the air heavy with the scent of stone and firewood. I leaned against the table, staring into nothing, thirst gnawing at me more than the absence of sleep.

“Duke?” a soft voice whispered.

I turned. The head maid, Bee, stood in the doorway, surprised to see me.

“Hi,” I said simply, setting my empty glass aside. “I’ll head back now.”

But her voice followed me as I moved past.

“Would you join me for tea?”

I paused, sighing. She meant well. I wasn’t in the mood for conversation, but her persistence had weight.

“It might help you sleep,” she coaxed gently.

A reluctant smile tugged at my lips.

“Fine.”

She busied herself at the stove, boiling water, placing a plate of scones between us.

My eyes drifted to my hands drumming the table, but my mind, inevitably, wandered back to Victoria. Her face, her blush, her voice. It was infuriating how she crept into my thoughts unbidden.

“Your favorites,” Bee said, sliding the plate closer.

Memories stirred. The taste, the scent, she’d been baking these since I was a boy.

“It’s been a difficult year, my Duke,” she said softly, pouring tea. “But don’t forget, you’re not alone. And soon, we’ll have a duchess here with us.”

The word pulled at me.

Duchess.

My lips curved in the faintest smile.

“How long have you been here, Bee?” I asked.

“Twenty years,” she chuckled. “Since you were five.”

I nodded, sipping the cinnamon tea. Its warmth seeped into me, loosening muscles I hadn’t realized were tense.

“It seems you’ll finally get your wish then,” I said quietly. “Serving someone other than me.”

Her laugh was light.

“Oh yes, I can’t wait to meet her. Tell me, is she kind?”

Her eyes were full of hope. I couldn’t bear to crush it.

“Yes,” I murmured. “More than you can imagine. She’ll be here in two days.”

“Then we’ll have everything ready,” she promised.

When I left the kitchen, the silence no longer weighed so heavily.

I collapsed back into bed, but this time my thoughts didn’t circle aimlessly. They went straight to Victoria, her blush, her smile, the fire she carried.

For the first time in years, the thought made me restless in a way that felt almost… alive.