Filed to story: Elowen Hale and Duke Cassian Valebourne Book PDF Free
Back then, Alaric had been beside himself, gripping her hand, sweat beading down his temples.
“I’ll take care of you forever,” he had vowed.
When had that changed?
When had warmth turned into distance… and distance into disdain?
She couldn’t remember.
In her previous life, she had chased that answer relentlessly-crying through endless nights, wearing herself thin.
In the end, her injured knee ached without cease, and her vision deteriorated. In dim light, the world blurred into shadows.
This time-she let it go.
There was no need to understand.
In this world, aside from life and death, everything else was trivial.
–
As the wedding approached, preparations engulfed the palace, Duskmoor Manor, and Hale Manor alike. Golden silk and gilded ornaments bloomed everywhere, impossible to ignore.
Living in the Crown Prince’s Wing, Alaric found himself surrounded by it.
Day after day, his irritation mounted.
At last, he stepped out for air.
Just then, a visitor arrived.
His cousin-Leonhart Valebourne, eldest legitimate son of Duke Roland.
They met in the study.
“You’ve come with a purpose?” Alaric asked lazily.
Leonhart grinned, unabashed. “Well-Uncle Cassian is getting married, isn’t he? Her Majesty wants to appoint someone from the royal family to escort the bride from Hale Manor…”
A faint twitch pulled at Alaric’s brow.
With his uncle still unconscious, unable to perform the ceremonial escort, someone else had to take his place.
And if Elowen had been given the choice-
She would have chosen him without hesitation.
At least, that was what he had always believed.
He knew her too well.
Admiring my uncle? Wanting to marry him out of sincerity?
Please.
It was nothing more than another performance-another calculated move to circle back to him, to force his attention.
It must be her who arranged Leonhart’s visit for that very reason. Afraid he might refuse outright, she had sent someone first to soften his stance.
And Leonhart… well, he had once liked Elowen.
Mostly because of the sweets she baked-but still.
None of it mattered.
Alaric had no intention of escorting her.
A maid entered quietly and placed two cups of steaming tea on the table. Leonhart picked his up, blew across the surface, and took a cautious sip.
When he remained silent, Alaric’s patience thinned. “Has no one else in the royal family been considered? I don’t have the time-or the inclination.”
Leonhart blinked, caught off guard. “But-“
Alaric cast him a sharp glance. “What?”
Leonhart hesitated, scratching the back of his neck before choosing his words carefully. “Her Majesty did think you’d be the most suitable… since you’re not married.”
A short, dry laugh escaped Alaric. Exactly as expected.
“But,” Leonhart added quickly, “Elowen said it wouldn’t be appropriate to trouble Your Highness. So Her Majesty summoned me instead. She said I could go in your place.”
Alaric stilled.
…She refused me?
He had been nothing but irritated at the idea of being dragged into her wedding.
Yet hearing that she had rejected him outright brought no relief.
Only a vague, unwelcome irritation stirred in his chest-tight, unnameable.
Leonhart watched him closely, catching the subtle shift. Trying to ease the tension, he forced a grin. “She probably just figured you’re too busy. Escorting a bride would be a hassle. Unlike me-I’ve got nothing going on. I’m free every day.”
Alaric said nothing.
Silence settled over the study, thick and uncomfortable. The tea in Leonhart’s hands suddenly felt scalding. He shifted in his seat, then stood abruptly.
“Alaric-I’ve got other matters to attend to. I’ll be going.”
Alaric gave a low, indifferent hum, not even bothering to rise.
Leonhart took a few steps toward the door-then stopped.
Something tugged at him.
He turned back, voice quieter this time.
“Alaric… about what happened back then. Elowen really wasn’t at fault. You’ve blamed her all this time, but it’s not fair. Things have come this far, and you’re clearly not happy. She-“
“Leonhart.”
Alaric cut him off.
His brows drew together, his voice low, edged with warning. “Didn’t you say you had somewhere to be?”
Leonhart lowered his gaze. “…Yes.”
The rest of his words died in his throat.
He turned and left the Crown Prince’s Wing.
–
The wedding day arrived.
The first thing Elowen did upon waking was walk to the window.
Sunlight poured from a clear, open sky. The air was bright, crisp-no trace of rain.
She let out a quiet breath.
A good day.
Truly.
She rose, bathed, dressed, and took her place before the vanity. Maids moved around her in a soft flurry of silk and whispers, adorning her piece by piece until every detail was perfected.
Perhaps because she had already lived through a wedding once before-she felt nothing at all.
No nerves. No anticipation.
Only calm.
This was merely a ceremony.
By the time Leonhart arrived, everything was ready.
Tradition dictated that a bride be led from her home by a male relative. But Hale Manor had long since been stripped of its men-lost to the battlefield, one after another.
The only one left… was a five-year-old boy.
