~LAYLA~
"Done," Dr. Thornhill said, putting the swab into a tube and sealing it.
"And ours," Axel’s hired dic said, doing the sa with his kit. He put the tube into a tal briefcase that was handcuffed to his wrist. "These will be in the lab within the hour, Mr. O’Brien."
"Good," Axel said, watching Julian.
Julian rubbed his cheek where the swab had scraped him. "Well, that was fun. Can we go back to our lives now? I have a tee ti in the morning."
Isabelle didn’t answer. She just watched over the rim of her teacup with cold, calculating eyes. There were no verbal threats or telling, just a dismissive silence that said she expected to be gone by sunset tomorrow.
Pennyworth cleared his throat from the doorway.
"The Duke is awake," he said quietly. "He’s asking for you, Mrs. O’Brien."
My heart jumped. "Now?"
"If you’re ready," Pennyworth said.
I looked at Axel. "I’m coming with you," he said imdiately.
"Actually," Isabelle said coldly, setting down her cup. "The Duke is recovering and shouldn’t be seeing visitors. The doctors themselves said ’Family only’."
"I am family," I said.
"Allegedly," Julian muttered.
"The Duke was very clear," Pennyworth interrupted. "He wants to speak with you privately. Your husband may wait here."
"You may decide to wait here. Or perhaps in the garden, if you want the fresh air," Isabelle contributed with a strained expression that was supposed to be a smile
Axel’s jaw tightened. I could see him trying to decide if he should fight this.
I touched his arm. "It’s okay. I’ll be fine."
Axel looked at , then at Isabelle.
"I’ll be right outside the door," he said loudly. "If anything happens, anything at all, I’m coming in."
"How very protective," Isabelle said with a fake smile. "Though one wonders what you think an eighty-year-old bedridden man is going to do to her."
I ignored her and turned to Pennyworth. "Lead the way."
—
I followed Pennyworth out of the drawing room and down a long hallway. The walls were covered in oil paintings, my ancestors probably. There were n in wigs, and won in stiff corsets; all of them looked unhappy, like they were judging .
We stopped at a heavy wooden door at the end of the hall.
"He’s very weak," Pennyworth said quietly with his hand on the golden knob. "The stroke affected his speech, so please, be patient with him. And don’t be alarmed by the machines."
"I will," I promised. "Thank you, Arthur."
Pennyworth knocked once, then opened the door.
The room slled like lavender and dicine. A fire burned low in the fireplace, and on a four-poster bed, propped by a mountain of pillows, was an old man.
The Duke.
He was small, shrunken by age and illness. His skin was pale, showing a map of blue veins. His hair was wisps of white. But his sharp, intelligent, and startlingly blue eyes locked onto the mont I walked in.
"Victoria," he whispered.
My throat got tight as I walked closer to the bed. "No, sir," I said gently. "I’m Layla. Victoria’s daughter."
He blinked, and it was as if the fog cleared from his eyes. "I know," he breathed. "You... you look just like her."
The Duke reached out a shaking hand, and I took it. His skin was cold, and his grip was weak.
"I was so cruel to her," he whispered, tears gathering in his eyes. "To Victoria. I forbade her from marrying Michael. I threatened to cut her off. I... I drove her away."
"She loved him," I said softly. "She chose love. And from what I’ve heard, he was happy, sir. They loved each other until the end."
"And I never forgave her for it," he said, crying now. "I was too proud, too stubborn. I thought I had ti. And then... the accident. She was gone. I never got to tell her... I was wrong."
I squeezed his hand. "She knew you loved her. I think she always knew."
He looked at desperately. "Do you... do you forgive ? For losing you? For not finding you sooner?"
I thought about it, about my life. Growing up, the struggles in trying to fit in as the perfect daughter for Charles. But also, I thought about the strength I’d built, the empire I’d created. If I’d grown up here, in this cold castle with Isabelle and Julian, who would I be?
"There’s nothing to forgive," I said honestly. "I’m here now. That’s what matters."
The Duke smiled, a real smile, and for a mont, he didn’t look so small. "Stay," he whispered. "Please. Stay with ."
"I will," I promised. "I’m not going anywhere."
He closed his eyes, still holding my hand. His breathing got slower, more even. He was at Peace.
He closed his eyes, still holding my hand. Soon, his breathing evened out as exhaustion took over.
I stayed there for a long time, just holding his hand.
—
I had no idea how long I sat there, maybe an hour or two.
I studied his face, trying to see my mother in him. Tried to imagine what she’d looked like as a child, running through these halls.
The door opened quietly.
Pennyworth stepped in. "Mrs. O’Brien? Perhaps you should rest. You’ve had a long journey."
"I told him I’d stay," I said.
"And you have," Pennyworth said kindly. "But he’s sleeping now. He’ll sleep through the night. The dication is quite strong."
I looked at the Duke, and he did look peaceful.
"Okay," I said and carefully pulled my hand away.
The Duke didn’t wake.
I followed Pennyworth back into the hallway. Axel was there, pacing. The second he saw , he stopped. "You okay?" he asked.
"Yeah," I said. "I’m okay."
He pulled into his arms, and I let myself lean against him, breathing in his familiar sll and grounded myself.
"How was it?" Axel asked.
"Sad," I said. "He’s old, sick and regretful. He misses her."
"Do you believe him?" Axel asked.
"I don’t know," I admitted. "But I think he’s genuine. I think he really does want to make peace."
"Good," Axel said. "That’s good."
Pennyworth cleared his throat politely. "Dinner will be served in the dining room at eight. Lady Isabelle expects you both to attend."
I looked at Axel. "Do we have to?"
"Unfortunately, yes," Pennyworth said. "It would be rude to decline."
"Can’t have that," Axel muttered.
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