The Duke's Unwa Chapter 91: Indifferent to his own life?

Chapter 91: Indifferent to his own life?

"What happened so suddenly?" Eilika asked, her fingers pausing against the silk of his waistcoat.

"It is for safety," Damian replied, his voice dropping to a low, protective register. "I have enemies, Eilika. I will not allow my son to be harmed, and I have no desire to see you hurt, either."

Eilika nodded slowly, processing the weight of his words. "Have you found any leads regarding the motorcar incident? And what kind of enemies could you possibly have that make it too dangerous for me to even step outside?" she asked, her gaze dropping to the floor for a moment.

Damian reached out, his hand briefly covering hers to still her trembling fingers. "The investigation is ongoing, but it was no accident. As for my enemies, they are not always men with swords. They are men with bruised egos and greed. They see my family as my only weakness, and they will use any means to find leverage."

Eilika nodded as Damian dismissed her to change, watching as he headed toward the washroom.

"He isn’t telling me everything," she murmured to herself, lingering in the center of the room. She felt a restless curiosity, but before she could dwell on it, the door opened.

Damian stepped out a few moments later. He hadn’t put on a shirt yet, his broad shoulders and the lean, powerful build of his torso catching the dim light of the chamber. The tattoo on his chest had started to fade too.

"You didn’t leave," he noted as he walked toward the large, carved cupboard.

"I thought I should collect your discarded clothes for the laundry," Eilika stated, trying to keep her gaze steady despite the sudden intimacy of the room.

"The servants can handle that. Do not trouble yourself with such chores," Damian answered. He pulled a crisp white silk shirt from a hanger and shut the cupboard doors.

He turned back to her, the fabric draped over his arm. "Is there something else on your mind, Eilika? You look as though you’re waiting for a confession."

"You didn’t tell me if you found any leads," Eilika persisted, her voice tight with worry. "I heard those men were trying to take your life. This isn’t just greed, they want you dead."

Damian paused as he glanced at the wall clock. "Don’t fret. Nothing will happen to me," he said as if he were discussing a minor clerical error rather than an assassination plot. "Did you and Roman have lunch yet?"

"No. We decided to wait for you," Eilika replied, though her mind was still fixed on the danger he was ignoring.

"Then we will eat together in the private dining room," Damian decided.

"It wouldn’t be right to let your mother eat alone in the Great Hall," Eilika suggested gently. She stepped toward the door, pausing to look back at him. "You should tuck your shirt in. I’ll bring Roman to the hall."

She gave him a brief nod and walked out, her footsteps echoing softly in the long corridor. She couldn’t shake the image of his calm demeanor.

"He acts like none of this matters," she murmured to herself, a cold knot of anxiety tightening in her chest. "How can he be so indifferent to his own life?"

~~~~~

After lunch, Roman’s eyes grew heavy, and he retired to his chambers for a nap. Eilika followed Georgia, as her mother-in-law was eager to discuss the preparations for Roman’s upcoming fifth birthday.

"Dear, I originally wanted to throw a lavish reception to celebrate your and Damian’s wedding, but he strictly refused it," Georgia affirmed, her tone indicating she still disagreed with her son’s decision. "However, Roman’s birthday is different. This event will be the moment you are officially revealed to the people as their Duchess."

Georgia paused, looking at Eilika with a discerning but kind gaze. "It is not just a party for a child; it is a political statement. The nobility and the citizens need to see the unity of the Ducal house. We must ensure everything is perfect, from the guest list to your attire. You will be the center of attention alongside Roman."

Eilika felt a spark of nervous tension. The idea of standing before the entire region as the Duchess was daunting, especially with the threats Damian had mentioned earlier.

"Will Damian agree to a large event this time?" Eilika asked.

"Of course!" Georgia said with a smile. "He always celebrates Roman’s birthday. And given how much their relationship has improved because of you, I believe Damian will celebrate it with much more enthusiasm this year."

Georgia reached out, placing her hand gently over Eilika’s. Her expression softened, turning maternal and sincere. "Dear, I am sorry for how Damian treats you at times. He has a cold exterior, but I assure you, once he opens his heart to you, he won’t hesitate to give you the world. I know that path is difficult, but it will happen eventually."

Eilika felt a lump form in her throat. She wasn’t sure if Damian was capable of such a transformation, but seeing the hope in Georgia’s eyes made it hard to disagree.

"Liliana is etched too deeply in his heart," Eilika murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "I understand why she matters to him so much. They were the same age; they grew up together. That kind of history isn’t easily replaced."

Georgia’s expression softened with a touch of sadness, but her gaze remained steady. "Eilika, it is true that he and Liliana shared a bond that ran deep. It was a lifetime of shared memories," she stated, patting Eilika’s hand reassuringly. "But in the present, you are his wife. Damian is a man of duty, and he knows that better than anyone. The way you have handled things so far, the way you have reached Roman and brought life back into this home, is remarkable."

~~~~

Damian ran his hand through his son’s soft hair, watching as Roman’s eyes fluttered open. Though the boy looked tired from the day’s excitement, a bright spark returned to his gaze the moment he saw his father.

"Father, you are here!" Roman whispered, his voice small and drowsy. "Mama bought so many clothes for me. She made sure I stayed under the shade of the umbrella the whole time. She loves me so much."

Damian felt a rare, genuine smile pull at his lips. "I am glad you and your mother are getting along so well, Roman."

"Father..." Roman’s brow furrowed slightly as a memory surfaced. "My aunt tried to enter the shop. But for safety purposes, the guards stopped her. Who is my aunt? I asked Mama, but she said she would tell me later."

The warmth in Damian’s expression vanished instantly, replaced by a cold, sharp stillness. His hand paused in Roman’s hair. The mention of Rosaline, especially her attempting to approach his wife and son in a public market, sent a jolt of ice through his veins.

"Your mother will definitely tell you about her when the time is right," Damian stated, his voice softening to a low murmur.

"Father... Do you still think about my birth mother?" Roman asked, rubbing one eye as sleep began to take a firm hold of him. "One day, the teacher was telling us a story. The moral was that we have to move on," he murmured, his small voice trailing off. "Can Father not live happily? I will be happy to see you smile, too."

Damian paused, the weight of his son’s innocence striking a chord he usually kept tightly guarded. The shadow of Liliana was always there, but looking at Roman, who was so desperately wishing for his father’s joy, made the silence in the room feel heavier.

"Roman, Father is trying to do better. Give me some more time," Damian said, gently caressing the boy’s head.

Roman’s breathing leveled out, and his eyes slowly closed as he drifted off into a deep sleep. Damian stayed there for a moment longer, watching the rise and fall of his son’s chest. The boy’s words echoed in his mind—move on. It was a simple lesson from a schoolroom, yet the hardest one for a Duke to master.

He stood up quietly, adjusted the duvet around Roman’s shoulders, and stepped out of the room.

Damian walked straight to Eilika’s quarters, his mind fixed on the security breach Rosaline represented. Upon reaching the outer room, Joanna stepped forward with a quick bow.

"I will inform the Duchess of your arrival, Your Grace," Joanna said, already moving toward the inner door.

"No need," Damian interrupted, his voice firm. He waved her away and pushed open the heavy oak doors to the bedchamber himself.

He stopped short. Eilika was standing by the large arched window, the afternoon light catching the rich, deep hue of a wine-colored silk shirt she held in her hands. She was smoothing the fabric with a tenderness that made him pause, her expression soft and thoughtful.

The anger he had been nursing regarding Rosaline flickered for a moment, replaced by a sudden curiosity.

"What’s that?" he asked.

Eilika jumped, nearly dropping the garment as she whirled around to face him.

"Your Grace! You... you should have knocked," she gasped, instinctively trying to hide the shirt behind her back, though it was far too late.