Filed to story: Elowen Hale and Duke Cassian Valebourne Book PDF Free
“Father, Brother, all my uncles and ancestors, I am now married into Duskmoor and hold the title of Duchess. Though His Grace remains unconscious, everyone at the manor has treated me with great respect and kindness. I’ve been… well cared for…”
Her voice caught. A lump formed in her throat, and tears threatened to fall.
She always acted carefree, even foolish at times. But truthfully, she missed them deeply.
The pain of their absence was something she carried every day.
Eventually, Elowen came to understand a few things, like why she had clung to Alaric the way she had.
Perhaps she had truly liked him once. Or maybe… he had been her only way to escape the grief.
Elowen swallowed the sob that tried to rise. Her voice grew quieter. “Now, I’m only waiting for His Grace to wake. No matter how long it takes, I’ll wait.”
She set the candle back into its holder, then lowered herself to her knees and bent forward, bowing so deeply that her forehead struck the cold stone floor with a dull, muffled sound.
When she finally stepped outside, she was surprised to find that Alaric and Leonhart were still there. Which meant… they must have heard everything she just said inside.
“Would you like to join us at the House of Hundred Flavors?” Leonhart asked eagerly. “We are going there for breakfast. It’s been ages since the three of us shared a meal.”
Elowen shook her head without hesitation. “No. I’m returning to the manor.”
Leonhart tried again. “Come on. Back then, the three of us would often eat there. It was always such fun…”
“It’s different now,” Elowen said. “We were young then, unmarried. We could do as we pleased. That’s no longer the case.”
Leonhart opened his mouth to argue again, but Alaric interrupted him. “Maerwyn’s birthday celebration is in a few days,” he said abruptly. “You’ll attend, won’t you?”
He emphasized that last part, speaking slowly and deliberately. Elowen remembered that gathering. In her previous life, she and Alaric had just gotten engaged. Naturally, she attended the princess’s birthday banquet.
Even though she knew Maerwyn didn’t like her, Elowen had carefully prepared a gift. After all, she was going to be her sister-in-law.
But something unexpected had happened that day. Her relationship with Alaric grew worse, and she became the laughingstock of all Vanelle.
“You don’t need to be nervous,” Alaric said, eyes fixed on her. “It’s only a small event. Just family, really. My mother has invited a few noble daughters from the capital, nothing more.”
He made sure to stress that last part. The implication was obvious.
The birthday banquet would double as a matchmaking event-his mother’s effort to choose him a bride.
Why say that to her? Did he think she’d be upset?
Elowen smiled faintly. “You’re of age, and it’s only right that you marry soon. If you happen to find someone you like at your sister’s celebration, have your mother arrange it. I’ll be sure to prepare a generous gift for your wedding.”
Alaric’s jaw clenched. Ever since the banquet-ever since she volunteered to marry Cassian-he hadn’t known peace of mind.
He used to hate it when she chased after him. But now that she didn’t, he felt even more irritable.
To make sense of it, he’d found a reason to come here today.
He wanted to see her. And this… this was how she spoke to him?
That calm, patronizing tone was like a proper noble lady lecturing a junior. It grated on his nerves. Elowen turned and walked away.
Leonhart watched her go, then muttered under his breath, “She really has turned into an elder. The way she talks… just like my grandmother back home.”
Alaric let out a cold laugh. “Elowen? Don’t call her that. She’s your elder now, remember? You should say ‘my lady.'”
Leonhart blinked. Alaric’s tone was so bitter, so sharp. He glanced at him and asked, “Are you… upset?”
“Why would I be upset?” Alaric snapped. “I’m thrilled. Just wait till I pick a bride-someone beautiful, with a good temperament. Once she becomes Crown Princess, I’ll be overjoyed!”
Leonhart wanted to say something more, but held back. A worried look flickered in his eyes. If only that’s true…
Elowen returned to Duskmoor Manor.
As soon as she stepped down from the carriage, Gerda hurried to meet her. “My lady, thank heavens you’re back.”
Elowen tensed. “What happened? Is it His Grace?”
“No, no,” Gerda said quickly, trying to ease her concern. “His Grace is fine.”
She lowered her voice. “It’s Vivian. The eldest daughter of Lady Marwen. She’s here again.”
Elowen paused. “Vivian Ashcroft?”
Gerda nodded solemnly. “That’s the one. She’s a year younger than His Grace, and she has always harbored deep feelings for him. When her father was alive, she had tried more than once to marry into this household. But General Ashcroft disapproved and planned instead to marry her off to one of his officers. Lady Vivian threw such a fit the match was eventually canceled. Later on, she married the third son of an earl, as his lawful wife.”
Elowen nodded. “The Earl’s family? That’s a decent match.”
Gerda leaned in and lowered her voice. “So it would seem. But… the third son is frail. Weak in… certain marital matters. Lady Vivian wasn’t pleased. She’s taken up a few men on the side.”
Elowen paused. She asked instinctively, “Did she have someone beat up his husband to vent her anger?”
That caught Gerda off guard.
In Avenlor, before a noblewoman was married, her family would usually make arrangements to teach her the matters of the marital chamber-how to behave with her husband, and how to bear children.
But Elowen’s case was… different.
When her parents were still alive, she was far too young. By the time she reached marrying age, there was no one left to oversee those things.
In her previous life, she had married Alaric, but they had never once shared a bed.
She died without even knowing what such intimacy meant.
There were many things she simply didn’t understand.
Gerda chose her words carefully. “She didn’t lay a finger on her husband. Instead, she’s been spending time with men outside, often sneaking out to meet them-or worse, sneaking them into the house to, well… romp in bed when her husband isn’t home.”
Elowen’s face flushed crimson at the phrasing. Now she understood what those words really meant.
Gerda went on, “After General fell in battle, the young lady began visiting Duskmoor Manor quite frequently. At that time, the Duke was in good health. She would often bring him stews or nourishing broths-clearly hoping to rekindle their old relationship.”
Elowen blinked, startled again.
“There was even one time,” Gerda said, lowering her voice, “she stripped down and climbed into the Duke’s bed, offering herself to him outright. He flew into a rage and banned her from ever returning. Only after the Duke fell unconscious did she dare show up again. And ever since His Majesty issued the royal engagement between you and the Duke, she’s been coming by more and more frequently. She even showed up today. With the Duke unconscious like this…”
Gerda didn’t finish her sentence, but her concern was obvious.
If Vivian tried her stunt again-stripping down and crawling into the Duke’s bed-he wouldn’t even be able to say no this time.
Elowen, however, was unfazed. “No worries. I already took the entry medallion from Lady Marwen. She can’t get into the manor wing anymore. Come on, let’s head back. I’m sure the Duke is just fine.”
At the Rose Hall, Vivian lounged lazily across the couch, her waist curved just enough to accentuate her seductive posture. All ten of her fingers were lacquered with deep crimson gloss, and she was peeling grapes at a leisurely pace.
Marwen sat nearby, glancing from the door to her daughter, clearly growing irritated.
“You mean to tell me the Earl family can’t even afford grapes anymore? Had to run back here to mooch off mine?”
Vivian didn’t even look up. “Mother, you’re fuming because the new Duchess embarrassed you. Don’t take it out on me. I didn’t wrong you. You’re the one who dragged me here on short notice to fight your battles. If you chase me off, who else do you have?”
Marwen flared at the mention of “the Duchess.” “Don’t even say her name! She’s just a girl, barely grown! Only relying on a royal decree, yet dares to threaten me like that-“
Last night, she had summoned Lucien and questioned him. Why did he try to assassinate the Duke?
Lucien had panicked and confessed everything. That little witch Elowen had tricked her!
Lucien wasn’t trying to kill anyone. He’d merely taken a liking to Elowen and had sneaked into her room, hoping to take advantage of her.
Nothing but a minor incident, and yet Elowen had blown it wildly out of proportion.
She’d accused Lucien of attempted regicide, no less! Then, they used it as an excuse to confiscate Marwen’s access medal.
Marwen was furious.
She gave Vivian a sharp push. “Enough grapes! Half the money you use to keep your men fed comes from me! If that little witch truly takes control of Duskmoor Manor, where will you get your money then?”
Vivian’s eyes flickered slightly.
She chewed the grape in her mouth, swallowed, then dabbed her lips with a silk cloth. “Relax, Mother. Everything’s already in place.”
Marwen blinked. “In place?”
Vivian’s smile turned wicked. “I’ve lived like a widow for years. I know how lonely the nights can be. You think I don’t know what Elowen wants? Today, I came prepared-with my trump card. She won’t see it coming. Just sit back and enjoy the show.”
Halfway through the path, Elowen heard a sudden shout.
“You little thief! You dared steal from Lord Lucien? I’ll beat you to death!”
Then came the unmistakable thuds of fists hitting flesh. Elowen followed the voice, stepped through the moon gate, and saw a burly servant kicking a young boy curled up on the ground.
