The Duke's Reluctant Bride

Chapter 20: A Duchess Defiant

💫Adeline🪄

The manor was no longer a haven. The sanctuary of gardens and winding stone paths had become a battlefield. I had to admit—these five assassins were formidable opponents. Their presence electrified the air with violence, a sharp contrast to the serenity that once reigned here. The gardens lay in ruins, shattered pots and trampled flowers painting the ground in chaotic hues. The stone paths, once solid and unyielding, now lay cracked beneath the weight of destruction.

They weren't just seasoned killers—they wielded dark magic as well.

I couldn't shake the feeling that others beyond these five had already infiltrated the estate. The oppressive silence in the manor told a grim tale; others had likely already fallen.

My throat tightened as a terrible thought struck me. Even Quentin? It couldn't be.

I should have known better. I had failed to protect them.

I shook my head sharply, dispelling the guilt that threatened to overwhelm me. This wasn't the time for self-recrimination. No one could have foreseen this, but if Lucien had and failed to tell me, I would be deeply disappointed.

One of them darted toward me, moving like a phantom. His blade gleamed, aimed with chilling precision for my vital points. These assassins knew exactly how to kill. A shield of light erupted before me, glowing brilliantly and blinding him. His blade struck the barrier, the force of the blow absorbed before he was sent flying backward, gasping for breath.

Another lunged before I could recover. I spun sharply, a staff of light materializing in my grip. Its radiant hum filled the air as I swung it in a clean arc. The weapon struck his side, sending him sprawling to the ground, his weapon slipping from his grasp.

Without hesitation, the remaining three attacked, their movements perfectly in sync.

"You've been trained well," one of them sneered, his voice dripping with mockery. "Marcus Wycliffe would be proud."

The sound of my father's name sent a jolt through me, but I refused to let it show. My jaw tightened, though my voice remained calm and steady.

"How do you know my father?" The light in my palm shifted, swirling like a restless flame.

"It wasn't hard to know him," the man replied, his grin widening. "One of the viscounts trusted by the Emperor—a man like that makes quite a name for himself." His smirk curled cruelly. "I'm not surprised he taught you to defend yourself. But I wonder... how would he feel knowing his only daughter will die tonight?"

I met his taunt with an unflinching stare. "I admire your confidence." I replied coolly.

Someone—anyone—needed to know what was happening here. Lucien's remaining vassals in Wintermere had to be alerted.

The light in my palm flared brighter, responding to my resolve. I slammed my hand to the ground, causing the tense air to reverberate. A glowing circle of light spread outward, forming an intricate sigil across the earth.

The circle expanded, its radiance stretching further until it reached the manor's bell tower. When the edges of the circle touched the bell, a resonant chime shattered the silence—an urgent call for aid. The light continued to spread, engulfing the entire manor and its gardens.

Within the circle, its healing energy began to take effect. The Circle of Solace couldn't revive the dead, but it could mend wounds and restore strength to those who were still clinging to life—except my enemies.

If anyone in this estate is still alive, let this light reach them.

Realizing what I had done, one of them sneered. "Even if the lords figured out what's going on here, it'll take time for them to arrive. More than enough time for us to finish this." His smirk sharpened. "And all your subordinates are dead by now. So tell me, Duchess—what are you fighting for? Why are you still being stubborn?"