Chapter 110: I promised her father
"Why is Roman so upset today?" Sylvian asked, noticing the boy sitting by the edge of the pond with his knees pulled tightly to his chest.
The boy looked up and offered a small bow before returning to his curled position.
Sylvian lowered himself to the grass beside him and placed a comforting hand on Roman’s head. "What’s wrong, little one?"
"I heard bad words for my mama," Roman whispered, his voice trembling with sadness and lingering anger.
"What do you mean?" Sylvian furrowed his brows in confusion, his expression instantly sharpening. "What kind of bad words did you hear someone say about your mother?"
"Mama’s father, my grandfather, Uncle. He speaks so cruelly to my mama. I felt so angry seeing the tears in her eyes," Roman muttered, staring blankly at the ripples in the pond.
Sylvian grew quiet, his confusion replaced by a grim realization. He had known Wilfred was a greedy man, but he hadn’t imagined he would dare to bring such hostility into the mansion. He felt a surge of sympathy for Eilika, who had clearly been bearing this weight alone for far too long.
"Did you learn to ride the pony yet?" Sylvian asked, pivoting to a lighter topic to pull the boy from his dark thoughts.
"Not yet. Mama said she would take me for lessons this evening," Roman replied, his shoulders slumped. "But now that she is upset, I can’t disturb her," he asserted with a maturity beyond his years.
"Then I can teach you," Sylvian stated, offering a small, encouraging smile.
"But Uncle, I am upset too," Roman murmured, his small face still clouded with resentment toward his grandfather.
"If you start learning now, your mother will be so proud of you when she sees your progress. It might even be the thing that makes her smile again," Sylvian said, reaching out to ruffle the boy’s hair. "Besides, the wedding is in only two days. She will be very busy soon. That is why Uncle Sylvian will teach you today."
As Sylvian stood up, Roman stood up too, his eyes brightening slightly at the thought of making his mother proud. He brushed the grass from his clothes, ready to trade his sadness for the reins.
~~~~~
"Do you feel better now?" Damian inquired, his voice softening as he watched Eilika step out of the washroom, her face still damp from the cool water.
"Yes," she nodded, though a lingering fatigue remained in her eyes.
"Come. The designers have arrived, and I have the wedding dresses to show you," Damian replied, reaching out to guide her toward the dressing chamber.
"I should check on Roman first," she murmured, her maternal instinct overriding her own exhaustion. "He must be wondering what happened to me after that scene."
"He is fine, Eilika. He has his uncles around him," Damian answered.
Eilika nodded, allowing him to lead her toward the dressing chamber. Inside, two magnificent gowns were on display, draped over mannequins like works of art: one for the wedding ceremony and the second for the reception.
Seeing the wedding gown sent a memory through her mind. It pulled her back to that first cold day in the hall when Damian had been absent, leaving her to stand alone. But as she looked at it now, the bitterness faded, replaced by a burgeoning warmth.
Her dream of having a real wedding was finally coming true. It hadn’t been a grand or demanding wish, but like every other girl, she had once pictured a day where her groom would look at her with devotion, take her hand, and chant his vows for her to hear.
Looking at the intricate lace and the soft glow of the fabric, she realized that this time, she wouldn’t be standing alone.
"They are beautiful," Eilika said softly, her fingertips hovering just inches away from the delicate embroidery.
"Why don’t you try them on, Your Grace?" the chief designer suggested with a professional smile, gesturing toward the private alcove. "We should ensure every stitch is perfect."
"Go on. Check the fittings," Damian encouraged, placing a gentle hand on the small of her back and ushering her forward.
Eilika gazed at him for a long moment, a silent thank-you in her eyes, before disappearing behind the heavy velvet curtains with the design team.
As soon as she was out of sight, the warmth in Damian’s expression shifted. He sat back in the upholstered chair, crossing one leg over the other. He leaned slightly toward the assistant standing nearby and lowered his voice to a private whisper.
"Has the jewelry I selected been brought yet?"
"The Dowager Duchess said she would keep them safe and provide them to the Duchess on the morning of the wedding," the assistant replied quickly, bowing their head respectfully.
"Hmm." Damian lifted a design book from the side table, flipping through the pages with a nonchalant gaze, though his mind was far from the sketches.
The wedding must be grand this time. The security needs to be imperable. I will personally inspect the guards later to ensure nothing is compromised.
As he stared at the pages, his thoughts drifted toward the past, to the family of his late wife.
I promised her father that only his daughter would be the only one in my life... Then why am I planning something so magnificent? Is this for Eilika, or for my own sake? Why? Have I not punished myself enough for—
His dark spiral was cut short as the assistant stepped back, signaling Eilika’s return. Damian lifted his head, the breath catching in his throat as he saw her in the wedding dress. The gown flowed around her like a dream, though her hands were clasped tightly and nervousness etched her features.
"I told them the fitting was perfect," Eilika murmured, her voice small as she avoided his direct gaze. "But they insisted that I must show it to the Duke."
Keep a straight look, Damian said, "Indeed, it is perfect on you." He then rose to his feet, and without uttering another sentence walked out.
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