Filed to story: Elowen Hale and Duke Cassian Valebourne Book PDF Free
The scent of her perfume, soft and clean, washed over Elowen. It brought her back to her childhood days in Hale Manor, where she used to follow her aunt around, tiptoeing to see how the dough was kneaded.
She used to watch, wide-eyed with wonder, as strange ingredients were transformed into warm, fragrant pastries.
“Wow…” she would whisper in awe. Those memories now felt like a distant past.
“Aunt,” Elowen said quietly, “Do you think… maybe I’m just not someone worth loving?”
Isobel gently took her hand. “Elowen,” she said, “You’re more than worth it. You’re young, bright, confident, and kind. Anyone who’s ever met you can’t help but like you. If someone doesn’t, then the problem isn’t you. It’s them. They’re petty, or jealous, or both. But you? You’re the kind of girl anyone would be lucky to love.”
Warmth blossomed in Elowen’s chest. She nodded.
“No point feeling sad over Alaric,” she murmured. “Just like there’s no point feeling happy because of him.”
If she no longer cared about him, he couldn’t affect her anymore.
She took a bite of her aunt’s new pastry, and her eyes lit up. “This is incredible! Teach me how to make it!”
Isobel smiled. “Of course. I’ll show you.”
Elowen jumped to her feet. “Let’s go to the kitchen!” Her aunt chuckled and followed.
Together, they headed to the back. Elowen’s eyes widened at the sight of all the fresh produce.
“Where do you buy all these?” she asked.
“An old farmer lives near the southern end of Cloudmere Lane,” Isobel said. “He’s been growing vegetables for decades. My father used to buy from him, and I still do. He even brings in goods from neighboring villages.”
Elowen nodded thoughtfully. “What about wine? Where do you get the best?”
“From the Windmill Tavern, of course,” her aunt said. “Don’t you remember? Back at Hale Manor, we always-“
She trailed off. It had been years since she’d been part of the manor.
Elowen tilted her head with a smile. “Once my aunt, always my aunt. I wasn’t wrong.”
Isobel’s gaze softened with affection. She smiled back.
They spent the afternoon baking pastries and packing them neatly into boxes. Once everything was loaded into the carriage, Elowen gave her aunt a tight farewell hug and left to place orders for vegetables and wine.
The payments were agreed upon, but the contracts still needed to be signed.
Her sister-in-law had drilled it into her early that nothing counted until it was written down and sealed. Without that, anything could still be undone.
By the time Elowen returned to the manor, it was nearly dusk.
She handed the pastry boxes to Mira. “Distribute these to everyone in the manor.”
Alaric returned to the Crown Prince’s Wing only to be met with a fierce scolding from Queen Isla.
She berated him over the palace’s ongoing financial troubles-saying that though she held the royal seal, even she was constantly scrambling to make ends meet. And yet here he was, her grown son, throwing around money as if it were nothing.
This time, Isla was truly furious. She didn’t even wait for the attendants to leave before lashing into him, not sparing him an ounce of dignity in front of the servants.
Humiliated and cornered, Alaric clenched his jaw and muttered, “…It was because of Elowen.”
The moment the name left his lips, Isla paused.
He seized the chance to tell her about Elowen’s supposed scheme-though, of course, he conveniently left out the part where he had added fifty to the price himself.
By the time he finished, Isla’s fury exploded. She hurled a cup to the floor, shattering it. “I knew it! That wretched girl is nothing but bad luck. Nothing good ever happens when you cross paths with her! We’re already scraping by in the palace, and now this-another absurd expense!”
Alaric let out a breath of relief. At least she had stopped blaming him.
Isla took a moment to calm herself, though her tone was still sharp. “…Did you know Cassian has awakened?”
Alaric looked surprised. “Uncle Cassian woke up?”
“It was only briefly, from what I’ve heard. The details are still unclear. But your father wants you to visit Duskmoor Manor and check on him. The trouble is, Elowen’s there. Today, she tricked you into spending all that money, and I suspect it’s because she still hasn’t let you go. If you go to the manor now, she’ll likely think you’re doing it for her.”
A slow smile tugged at the corner of Alaric’s mouth. The Queen was right. Elowen probably did still have feelings for him. That would explain all her games and petty schemes.
He considered for a moment, then said, “Mother, if it’s Father’s command, I can’t exactly refuse. But I don’t have to give Elowen the time of day.”
Isla sighed. “There’s no helping it then. You’ll just have to endure the discomfort.”
After all, her son was simply too outstanding.
Handsome, capable, and the heir to the throne-how could a little enchantress like Elowen possibly forget him?
Back at Duskmoor Manor, that evening, Elowen washed her hair. She dried it for a while, but didn’t bother to get it completely dry.
She was simply too tired today.
She missed the days when she was little, when she could just throw herself onto the bed, lay her head off the edge, and let her hair fall freely.
So that’s what she did now-sprawled across the mattress, head tilted back toward the edge, her damp hair cascading in waves toward the floor.
Cassian was lying straight on the bed, so when Elowen lay down beside him, a bit of physical contact was unavoidable.
But they were married now, weren’t they? Sharing a bed or leaning on one another shouldn’t matter.
With that thought in mind, she eased herself down, letting her legs rest loosely across his thighs.
If her hearing had been sharper, she might have caught the sudden quickening of his heartbeat. But Elowen was entirely unaware. She simply felt comfortable.
No wonder, she thought, recalling how her mother used to drape her legs across her father at night. This was just nice.
Gazing up at the gauzy canopy overhead, she began to murmur about the day’s events, “…I can’t outbid him, not with my money or my status. After all, Alaric has a throne to inherit.”
Cassian remained silent.
Two hundred? That was nothing more than pocket change to him. And as for lineage, Alaric wasn’t even the most capable of the King’s sons. His claim wasn’t as secure as he believed.
“But,” Elowen’s voice shifted, gaining a light, amused tone, “I came up with a little business venture with the shopkeeper…”
She described it in detail.
By the end, she chuckled softly. “It was just a bangle. It wasn’t worth more than thirty, fifty at most if someone’s feeling generous. Two hundred? Three hundred? That’s just idiotic. Money doesn’t grow on trees.”
Cassian smiled to himself in the dark. She hated being cheated.
After she finished, she lay quietly for a while, then reached up to feel her hair-mostly dry now. She sat up and, as usual, started to move to the inner side of the bed to sleep.
As she passed Cassian, her loose hair brushed lightly across his face. Soft and scented, it tickled his skin-and, somehow, his chest.
His breath hitched. Elowen lay down again, but something felt unusually warm.
“Did the temperature rise?” she mumbled.
She sat up, glancing over.
Cassian lay under a thin brocade coverlet. The weather had indeed warmed, and she thought perhaps it was better to pull the blanket down a bit, so he wouldn’t sweat too much and develop a rash.
With that in mind, she gently tugged the quilt down to his waist. And then, her gaze dropped.
Under the soft glow of moonlight and candlelight, a noticeable bulge was very… apparent.
She blinked. “What’s that? A rash? A really big bump?”
Cassian was speechless. What kind of military household doesn’t teach basic anatomy?
Elowen, curious, poked it twice.
Cassian was about to lose it. Still unaware, she tugged the blanket a bit farther, pulling open his tunic. A loud gasp tore through the room.
As if she’d stumbled upon a viper or some feral beast.
Flustered, Elowen scrambled to pull the blanket back over him. Her cheeks flushed crimson, heart pounding in her chest. She sat frozen for several moments, unable to move or look at Cassian-or at that spot.
The image, unfortunately, was now etched deeply into her memory. Eventually, she lay back down, but this time far from him, facing away, her back rigid.
Cassian found the whole thing equal parts amusing and exasperating. Was it really that shocking? Didn’t all men have one?
When he recovered fully, someone ought to teach her properly.
No. He would teach her.
Elowen had a nightmare that night. In it, she happily went to the market, only to find all the stalls filled with massive, monstrous mushrooms. Towering, grotesque, absolutely terrifying.
She turned and ran, but she tripped. Looked down-another mushroom.
