The Duchess

chapter 6

Chapter 6: Whispers in the Courtyard

The estate was quiet that evening, the hum of the battlefield replaced by the gentle rustle of wind through the garden trees. Hanna walked along the gravel paths, her hands brushing against the cool petals of roses. She needed this-space to think, to plan, and to forget the storm of emotions that Allen had stirred in her.

But the peace didn't last.

"I see your estate is as beautiful as the stories say," a familiar voice echoed softly behind her.

Hanna spun around, her heart leaping before she scolded herself. Standing in the shadows, dressed in plain, unassuming clothes, was Prince Allen. Or rather, the Northern King.

"You shouldn't be here," she hissed, glancing around to see if anyone had noticed his arrival.

"I came because I had to," he replied, stepping closer. His usual smirk was gone, replaced by a serious expression. "I couldn't leave things the way they were."

She crossed her arms, trying to steady herself. "You're trespassing, Allen. And I don't have time for your games."

"This isn't a game." His voice softened as he held her gaze. "I came because I don't want to be your enemy, Hanna. I came because I can't stop thinking about you."

Hanna's breath hitched. His words were a dangerous temptation, but she refused to let him sway her so easily. "You think you can just waltz in here and-"

"Yes," he interrupted, a flicker of his usual charm returning. "Because I know you're thinking about me, too."

She glared at him, but the intensity of his gaze made her falter. "Say what you came to say and leave."

Allen gestured toward the garden pavilion, its arches glowing softly in the moonlight. "Walk with me. Just for a moment."

Against her better judgment, she followed. The pavilion overlooked the estate's pond, its surface shimmering with the reflection of the stars. Allen leaned against one of the columns, his face turned toward the water.

"You hide it well," he said after a moment, his voice low. "The weight you carry. The loneliness."

Hanna froze. "You know nothing about me."

"I know enough," he said, turning to face her. "You're strong, fearless, and you lead with your heart. But I see it in your eyes-there's a part of you that's tired of fighting."

Her throat tightened. His words struck too close to the truth, and she hated him for it.

"Why are you really here?" she asked, deflecting.

"To show you that there's another way," he said simply. "I don't want war. And I don't want to lose you to it."

The vulnerability in his tone caught her off guard. For a moment, she saw not the king of an opposing nation, but a man carrying his own burdens.

Allen stepped closer, daring to take her hand. Hanna tensed but didn't pull away. His touch was warm, grounding.

"You don't have to trust me yet," he murmured. "But give me a chance to prove myself to you."

Her walls cracked, just a little. "You're asking for the impossible," she whispered.

"I'm asking for hope."

To her surprise, he smiled and tugged her gently toward the center of the pavilion. "Let me show you what peace could feel like," he said, his voice lightening.

Before she could protest, he placed a hand on her waist and guided her into a slow, easy dance. The night air was cool, the faint chirping of crickets their only music.

Hanna resisted at first, her mind screaming at her to step away, but the rhythm of their movements lulled her into silence. She hated how natural it felt, how safe.

"Don't think this changes anything," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I wouldn't dream of it," Allen replied, his smirk returning.

For a brief moment, the rest of the world melted away. But the sound of hurried footsteps shattered the spell.

"Hanna!"

Her steward appeared at the edge of the pavilion, his face pale with concern.

Allen released her immediately, stepping back into the shadows. "Until next time," he said softly, his voice tinged with regret.
Hanna watched him disappear into the night, her heart a tangled mess of emotions.
Back in her chambers, she sat by the window, staring out at the moonlit garden. She told herself she couldn't trust him, that his words were just another ploy.
But deep down, a tiny, treacherous part of her hoped that they weren't.