The Duke's Reluctant Bride

Chapter 31: What Remains Unspoken

The cobblestone roads of Wintermere met the carriage wheels with a steady rhythm, cutting through the quiet afternoon. Sunlight poured through the glass panes, casting fractured light across the interior. Inside, the air was still—too still.

Adeline sat beside Lucien, her posture composed yet withdrawn. They had chosen to sit side by side, not across from one another—a decision made more for appearances than comfort. To any watching eyes, they were a united front. But within the confines of the cabin, an invisible wall stood between them.

She hadn't spoken a word since they had stepped into the carriage.

Lucien noticed.

Her gaze was distant, fixed on the passing landscape. Her hands rested in her lap, fingers intertwined—too tightly. Something weighed on her mind, that much was clear.

Lucien turned his attention to her, his thoughts far from the scenery beyond the window.

He had felt it—the shift in her demeanor after he had given her the letters.

One had been about the bridge, that much he knew. The other... he hadn't dared to open. The seal was unfamiliar, worn at the edges, as though it had traveled a long way. He could have asked about it. He could have read it himself—he had every right, after all.

But he hadn't.

He valued privacy. Even in a marriage of political convenience, there were lines he chose not to cross unless necessary. If the letter was personal—something from her past—it wasn't his place to pry.

Nevertheless... the change in her was undeniable.

He considered the possibilities. Perhaps it was a family matter. News from home? Something personal from her house?

But the timing gnawed at him.

Her sudden silence. The flicker of guilt and reluctance in her eyes when she looked away.

His thoughts turned, briefly, to the idea of her having a lover. It wasn't unthinkable. Their union wasn't born of affection—it was a calculated alliance, forced on him by the emperor. He had no claim on her heart, nor had he ever demanded it. 

If she had someone... it would be understandable. Given the nature of their union, he couldn't fault her for it.

He exhaled slowly, hiding the thought behind a calm facade.

Even if it were true, he wouldn't interfere. Not unless it posed a threat—something that might bring instability to his House or Wintermere. In that case, he would have no choice but to act.

If the time ever came when people expected him to consummate the marriage for an heir, it would only bring more harm than good—especially to her. And even then, he knew deep down it would never come to that. If his suspicions were correct now, there would be no need to worry about succession. He still had Clara as his heir. She was more than enough. 

If this were Veridonia, many would question her succession as the next Duchess of Wintermere—simply because she was born a woman. But Lucien knew the Emperor would let it slide; after all, the founder of House Valenhart had been a woman, too.

Even so, something in him resisted the idea.

Adeline wasn't careless. She wouldn't let sentiment endanger the responsibilities she now carried. He had seen her show genuine kindness to Clara, and the fact that he was saved by her from being corrupted, instead of taking advantage of letting him die there to get away from this union.

If there was something behind her silence, it probably wasn't betrayal. Not unless he proved it.

A sudden jolt broke the stillness and his thoughts.