The Duke

In a single breath, her heels clacked through the library, and she entered the carriage. The coachman was addled, but she commanded him to return.

"Phew," she breathed out. 

He was a dashing man, she recalled, but that was not the reason she had come to the library—breaking the house rules. She slightly patted her cheeks and read the compilation book while the carriage wheels shook her on the gravel roads. 

Most of the information was futile, but a small paragraph caught her eye. Unlike other paragraphs, it only had the headline written. 

"The Magic Tower's five hundred magicians were slaughtered in one night, and the head mage was brutally exiled." 

Thousands of conspiracies crossed her mind. In the past three years, she has made sure to read every book related to history and magic, and yet, how could she have missed such a pivotal detail? She unintentionally bit her index nail. 

When she reached the mansion, her teacher had already arrived. She hurriedly went to her magic class, where her teacher, who was also a mage at the magic tower, waited. He had very long violet hair, and like always, he had a tired expression. 

He started the lesson with magical abilities. It was said that the abilities of a person were a personification of what was desired. Magic was a vast natural gift that had been categorized into five different types: nature-based magic, divination magic, conjuring magic, psychic magic, and alchemy.

Once the magic class was over, she attended the etiquette classes and a few more, but her mind lingered on the advice given by her teacher. If she needed to know more, she would need to explore more.

In the late afternoon, her lessons were over, and she made her way to the balcony, where she would often have her tea. It was on the third story and gave her a view of the town ahead of their mansion. 

Delia poured the warm ginger tea with a carrot cake on the side. The newspaper from that day was set on the side of the table. She gracefully took a sip while reading the headline of the day.

It read, "THE CORONATION OF THE THIRD PRINCE."

A picture of Empress Gaia, the first prince Hael, the second prince Dmitri, and the third prince Matthew was at the center of the page, to which she paid less attention.

The sound of horse gallops and the vibratory sound of the wheels swayed her attention, and from the corner of her eyes, she could see the duke return. She continued to have the carrot cake and tea as the orange hue of lights touched her face and gave a sun-kissed glow to her olive skin. 

"I would like to retreat," she informed Delia. Her face was slightly arched, and her brown chestnut eyes gleamed like viscous honey. She stood from her chair and entered her chambers. Within an hour, a maid entered the chamber, announcing that the duke had asked for her presence in his room. 

That evening, she changed into a royal blue gown with spaghetti straps and showed off her collarbones. It had an empire waist, and Delia brought a very short coat with puffy shoulders and perfectly buttoned her front for a modest look.

The sun had almost set, and the sky had gotten darker. Luiza walked upstairs, where the duke's office resided. In front of it, she knocked.

"Come in" 

The gruff voice approved, and she gently pushed the door open and entered. Her slender figure bowed to the duke, and she sat on the sofa near his table. 

She sat in a straight posture and held her palms together. They were sweaty and fiddling, but she did not utter a word. Only the sound of the duke's pen was heard. He soon dropped his pen on the table and stood at his work desk. 

Duke Joseph was a tall man. In two strides, he was on the sofa and sat opposite her. His back was straight, and his legs were crossed. 

"Why did you go outside Luiza? Have I not provided everything here? Or did you forget your promises?" He broke the silence with his strict and commanding tone.

"I have not, Duke," she gulped. 

The duke raised his brows and replied, "That's better." 

 His sharp, gawking eyes glared at her. His aura was so strong that it brought a chill to her spine. Despite her strength upfront, her timidity was noticed. 

He gazed at the figure in front of him, his flesh and blood, who shared more resemblance to the one who had gone away—those brown doe eyes and the cascading brown hair, her dainty figure, and the innocent yet determined within herself.

"You are in a hurry to leave the nest, huh?" With a smug face, Duke Joseph rolled his eyes, immediately stood from his seat, flung the door open, and left the room in aggression. 

Duke Joseph entered his chambers. Anger was evident in her stoic face while he sat on the couch, pinched his nose bridge, and drowned himself in reverie. His legs were wide apart, yet the gracefulness still perched through "This girl, she truly resembles you too much, Lora." He had a rather raspy voice. 

"Edward," he called out the butler as if he were right beside him. As if the butler could hear him, he appeared in front of his doorstep in a few seconds. 

"Come in!" Joseph gestured, and the butler graciously bowed. "How may I serve you?" 

"Reply to that child that she may use her mother's maiden name to attend the academy. I shall not have a duel with her. Do not help in any of her chores when she leaves and send only the clothes of the summer."