I'll Give Him A Chance

The Duke stood outside Darina's chambers, the cold air of the hallway biting into his skin.

He hesitated for a brief moment before pushing the door open. Inside, the room was bathed in soft candlelight, the warmth of the fire casting long shadows across the walls. Darina sat near the hearth, her pale, unseeing eyes fixed ahead, as if she could sense his presence.

"You're late," Darina's voice was soft, almost melodic, but laced with a hint of tiredness. "Your Grace."

The Duke let out a sigh, closing the door behind him. "It couldn't be helped. I had to deal with Valac."

Darina's lips curved into a slight smile as she tilted her head in his direction. "Ah. How is he? Still as stubborn as ever?"

The Duke crossed the room in a few long strides, stopping beside her chair. He looked down at her, his expression unreadable. "He's… different. Not quite the boy you remember."

Darina reached out a hand, and the Duke gently took it, guiding her fingers to his face. She traced the familiar lines of his jaw, her touch delicate but sure. "You sound troubled," she observed quietly, her fingers lingering on his cheek.

He stiffened under her touch, but didn't pull away. "It's nothing," he muttered, though the tension in his voice betrayed him.

Darina chuckled softly. "You can lie to others, but not to me. What did Valac do now?"

The Duke remained silent for a moment, his gaze fixed on the flickering flames. 

Finally, he spoke, his tone measured. "He's decided to change. Claims he's quitting alcohol, wants to make amends for his past mistakes."

Darina's eyebrows rose in mild surprise. "And you don't believe him? Do you also believe our son is cursed?"

"It's not that I don't believe him," the Duke replied, his voice low. "I just don't know how long he'll last. He's been a disgrace for years, Darina. You know that. And, curses can be undone. I've never been worried about those stupid notions."

Her hand dropped from his face, and she turned slightly towards the fire, the warmth playing against her pale skin. 

"I'm glad you think so," she said softly, her voice carrying a note of melancholy. "I believe in him."

The Duke let out a harsh breath, running a hand through his hair. "I cannot say I believe in him entirely. But, the breakfast was nice. It's impossible for people to change their hearts until their souls are swapped."

Darina shook her head, her expression. "People change, Thorne. You changed. Valac has been through a lot, more than you or I can understand. He just needs someone to believe in him."

The Duke's jaw tightened, his frustration simmering just beneath the surface. "I've given him chance after chance. And every time, he's thrown it away, Darina. You know it too. Protecting him even when things were his fault."

Darina reached out again, this time taking his hand in hers. "Perhaps this time will be different," she whispered, her voice gentle but firm.

The Duke stared at her, his gaze softening slightly. 

For all her frailty, Darina was still as sharp as ever. She had a way of seeing through the walls he built, cutting straight to the heart of things. It was both infuriating and comforting.

He squeezed her hand, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. "You've always had more faith in him than I have," he admitted quietly. "Is it because a mother's love is greater than that of a father's?"

Darina smiled, her sightless eyes glistening in the firelight. "Not exactly. It's because you wish to see a capable heir in both of your sons. That's why you come off as harsh. Mother's love is like a sweet paradise. While, father's love is like a harsh reality."

The Duke frowned, his thoughts racing. 

Darina's words struck a chord deep within him, stirring something he'd long buried. He glanced away, his gaze falling to the intricate patterns woven into the rug beneath their feet.

"You speak as if it's that simple," he murmured. "But we both know he hates us for being called illegitimate. The heir selection ceremony is in two days. If Valac is to have any chance of surviving… he'll need to pass for at least a small part of the fief."

Darina's grip on his hand tightened ever so slightly. 

"Then help him," she urged, her voice firm. "Guide him, as you did with Christian. Don't let him face this alone."

The Duke looked back at her, his expression conflicted. "You don't understand, Darina. Valac is weaker than Christian. I can't train him like I train Christian."

"He'll learn," Darina said softly. "But he'll only fail if you refuse to give him the chance to learn."

The room fell into a heavy silence, the crackling of the fire the only sound between them. 

The Duke's mind whirred with thoughts of the past… of all the times Valac had disappointed him, of the years wasted in debauchery and rebellion. But Darina's words gnawed at him, forcing him to reconsider the boy he'd written off so long ago.

Finally, he sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. 

"I'll assign him another guard loyal to me," he said, his voice quieter now. "But I won't make it easy for him. If he's serious about changing, he'll need to prove it. The first test of heir selection is only sword pulling. It's just luck who the sword selects as its master. Rest, I'll give him chances like I give to Christian. I've never been biased between them."

Darina nodded, her smile returning. "That's all I ask."

The Duke bent down, pressing a brief kiss to her forehead. "You always know how to get what you want," he muttered, a trace of affection in his voice.

Darina chuckled softly, her hand resting against his cheek once more. 

"It's because I know you better than anyone else, Thorne. You may be the cold, heartless Duke to others, but to me, you're still just the man I married."

He smiled, a rare, fleeting expression that softened his stern features. "And you're still the most stubborn woman I've ever known."

Darina's laughter was light and airy, filling the room with a warmth that rivaled the fire. 

"You wouldn't have me any other way."

The Duke straightened, casting one last glance at her before turning towards the door. "I'll see to Valac," he said over his shoulder. "But don't expect miracles. He's still Valac. You never know when he'll relapse. And, I'm perfectly sure he still hates us. Me more than you probably."

"Sometimes, Thorne, miracles come when you least expect them."