Chapter Nine– A Promise of Friendship

The grand dining hall of Rosewood Castle was aglow with the warm flicker of candlelight, casting dancing shadows upon the opulent furnishings and intricate tapestries that adorned the walls. The table was set with an array of delicacies, each dish more sumptuous than the last, while the air was filled with the tantalizing aroma of roasted meats and freshly baked bread.

As the hour of dinner approached, the Duchess found herself bustling about the expansive dining hall, overseeing the final preparations with a sense of nervous anticipation. Her gown shimmered in the soft candlelight, its intricate embroidery catching the eye of all who beheld her.

With a graceful flourish, she signaled to the servants to bring out the first course, her heart aflutter with excitement. Tonight's dinner was more than just a meal—it was an opportunity to cement the budding friendship between herself and her husband's nephew, to bridge the gap that had once seemed insurmountable.

The doors to the dining hall swung open with a soft creak, and the boy entered, his eyes widening in wonder at the sight before him. "Wow," he breathed, his voice barely above a whisper, as he took in the lavish spread laid out before him.

Amelia smiled warmly at him, her heart swelling with pride at his reaction. "I'm so glad you could join us," she said, her voice soft and inviting. "Please, take a seat."

As the boy settled into his chair, the Duke entered the room, his presence commanding and regal. He took his place at the head of the table, his eyes sweeping over the assembled guests with a cool detachment.

Conversation flowed freely as the meal progressed, the sound of laughter and light-hearted banter filling the air- or simply not. The Duchess made a point of engaging the boy in conversation, drawing him out of his shell with gentle encouragement and genuine interest.

"So, tell me," she said, leaning in closer to him with a conspiratorial smile. "What do you enjoy doing in your spare time?"

The boy hesitated for a moment, his eyes darting nervously around the table. "I like to read," he admitted, his voice barely audible above the din of the dining hall.

Amelia's eyes lit up with excitement. "Ah, a fellow book lover!" she exclaimed, her enthusiasm infectious. "We'll have to swap recommendations sometime."

As the meal continued, the atmosphere grew increasingly relaxed, the tension of earlier days slowly melting away. The Duchess found herself laughing and joking with the boy, their conversation flowing effortlessly as they discovered shared interests and common ground.

Suddenly, a hushed silence fell over the dining hall as a servant accidentally knocked over a bowl of steaming hot soup, sending it cascading towards the boy's lap. In a split second, Amelia sprang into action, reaching out to shield him from the scalding liquid with her own body.

The soup splattered against her gown with a loud splat, the sound echoing through the hall like a thunderclap. The boy gasped in shock, his eyes wide with fear as he watched the scene unfold before him.

Amelia winced as the hot liquid seared her skin, a sharp hiss escaping her lips. She could feel the heat radiating through the fabric of her gown, but she refused to move, determined to protect the boy from harm.

The Duke stared in stunned disbelief, his eyes locked on Amelia's smoldering gown. For a moment, the air was thick with tension, the silence broken only by the crackling of the flames in the nearby hearth.

Then, without warning, the boy burst into tears, his shoulders shaking with sobs as he buried his face in his hands. "I'm sorry," he cried, his voice muffled by his tears. "I didn't mean to ruin everything."

Amelia's heart broke at the sight of his distress, her own pain forgotten in the face of his overwhelming emotions. With a gentle hand, she reached out to comfort him, her touch light and reassuring.

"It's okay," she whispered, her voice soft and soothing. "Accidents happen. You're safe now, I promise."