Chapter 351: Heart softens soon

By the afternoon of the following day, Damian accompanied Eilika to the border of the Northern Region.

The motorcar came to a slow halt as both Maurice and the driver stepped out at Damian’s instruction.

"Damian, how will you return now? I told you a simple carriage would have been fine for me," Eilika stated, looking at him with concern.

"I have a horse prepared, and a squad of soldiers will escort me back," Damian replied. He took her hand in his and gently pressed a kiss against her knuckles. "Everything will be fine. Do not let yourself be overwhelmed by stress. I know how difficult this moment is for you," he whispered, lifting his hand to softly rest against her cheek.

She hummed in agreement and closed her eyes, pulling him into an embrace. "Thank you for making arrangements for my return to Varos."

"Never thank me for that. It is my duty as your husband," Damian pronounced, patting the back of her head with steady warmth. "My only regret is that I cannot accompany you today. I must conclude the affairs here first. But trust me, the moment my work in the region is finished, I will return to Varos."

Eilika pulled away gently and said, "You need to begin your journey back before the sun sets. Do not worry about me. I will be fine."

Damian leaned down and pressed a deep kiss onto her lips, reluctant to pull away, but eventually forcing himself to part from her. "Take care of yourself. Write to me as soon as you arrive," he whispered, planting a soft kiss in the middle of her forehead.

He opened the heavy door of the motorcar and stepped out, shutting it firmly behind him.

Eilika watched through the window as he spoke to Maurice in low, quiet tones. A few moments later, the driver climbed back inside, followed by Maurice. Eilika lowered the glass and leaned out slightly.

"Damian, take care of yourself. Do not drink or eat anything cold in this weather, and keep yourself warm," she urged, her eyes filled with genuine concern.

"I will," he promised softly.

The motorcar began to roll forward, its wheels kicking up dust as it accelerated. Eilika waved to him from the window, and Damian raised his hand, waving back as his feet moved on their own, walking a few steps along the road to follow the departing vehicle.

Once the motorcar was completely out of his sight, he turned around and walked toward his waiting mount, swinging easily into the saddle. Pulling on the horse’s reins, he turned the stallion and set off toward the cottage, with a guard of soldiers riding close behind him on their own horses.

~~~~~

August marched into the local police station and struck the inspector in whose custody he had left Flynn the previous night, the blow sending the man stumbling back into his desk.

The junior officers present did not dare step forward to intervene; they remained frozen in place, keeping their heads bowed in silence.

"Didn’t I command you to keep your eyes open until my return, Stephan?" August snarled, stepping in to grip the inspector’s collar tightly in his fists. "You are shielding the conspirators, aren’t you?"

"I am not, Your Highness! I swear it," the inspector gasped out, clutching at August’s arms as he fought to breathe. "I have no knowledge of how a poisoned blade came into Flynn’s possession while he was in a cell!"

August shoved him backward with brutal force, pointing a sharp finger at the trembling official. "Now, you will accompany me to find every witness connected to this case, or you and your family will answer personally for your treasonous negligence. Because of your failure, I was forced to order the release of men who should never have walked free!"

"I will do as you command, Your Highness," Stephan gasped out, steadying himself against his desk. "But please, trust me, I had no hand in this."

"Then you will prove it," August spat, his burning gaze sweeping over every man standing in the room. "Every single officer employed under this roof will present real, undeniable evidence that they had no part in his death. Because if my investigation reveals that even one of you aided in Flynn’s murder, you will go straight to the gallows."

As he made that declaration, the officers looked at each other in worry.

~~~~~

"Prince Sylvian sent Iliana back to her home before returning to the palace," Georgia began, blowing gently over her steaming teacup.

"Yes, Aunt. Father was immensely pleased that I have finally chosen the woman I love," Sylvian said, a thoughtful expression softening his eyes. "Ciaran and Angelina are entirely occupied with the little princess now, but they were remarkably welcoming to Iliana as well. She asked for a brief period to settle her personal affairs before returning. She is sacrificing a significant part of her life to step into this world for me."

Georgia lowered her teacup onto the saucer with a soft clink, raising a hand to dismiss the maidservants standing near the walls.

"Iliana made that decision for herself, Sylvian. I am certain she weighed every consequence before giving you her answer. To gain lasting happiness, some sacrifices must inevitably be made," Georgia remarked gently. "Besides, you mentioned yourself that she could continue running her bakery even after stepping into her role as your wife in a new province. The only difference is that she will be doing so as a Duchess."

"Hmm. I still wonder how she will manage it all. I only hope she never feels trapped," Sylvian pronounced, looking down at his hands. "She will remain free to pursue her own choices, of course. Though in certain matters, she will still be expected to adapt—the customs and etiquettes that are expected from a noblewoman. I don’t wish her to learn anything though. She’s fine as she is."

Georgia smiled warmly. "Iliana will learn eventually. She needs no artificial lessons. She already possesses a humble heart, and that is what matters most."

"You are right, Aunt Georgia," Sylvian replied, unable to hold back a widening smile.

"Have you informed your mother?" Georgia asked suddenly, her eyes searching his face.

The smile slowly faded from his lips. "No," he said, a cold shadow falling over his gaze as a bitter resentment surfaced. "She does not deserve to know anything about my life."

Georgia said nothing in response, simply offering a silent nod.

Just then, August strode into the drawing room, his face twisted in frustration. He offered a curt greeting to Georgia before taking a seat, entirely ignoring Sylvian’s presence across the couch. Sylvian, maintaining his composure, greeted his brother nonetheless.

"Everything is under control now," August declared.

"Did something happen?" Georgia asked, concern lacing her voice. She reached over and rang the brass bell beside her, summoning a maidservant to her side. "Fetch a glass of fresh water for Prince August immediately," she instructed.

"It was related to my work. I ended up infuriating both the city’s nobles and the merchant guilds," August replied, rubbing his temples.

"What? How could that happen?" Georgia asked, her expression turning from confusion to deep concern.

"It is complicated, Aunt. I made a decision that ultimately backfired on me," August stated, opting to keep the grim details of the murder to himself.

The maidservant returned carrying a silver tray, placing a silver glass on the table beside him. August picked it up immediately, draining the water in long gulps to cool his temper.

"I do not pretend to fully understand the nature of your duties, Prince August, but pray be cautious. Turning the nobility against you will leave a lasting stain on your standing. They are quick to mark a man as their enemy," Georgia advised gently.

"I will keep that in mind, Aunt," August replied, his tone curt as he set the empty glass back on the table. He stood up, adjusting his dark coat. "If you will excuse me, I shall retire to my chambers for some rest." He offered a brief bow to Georgia and walked out without another word.

"Are the two of you still on such ill terms?" Georgia asked softly, turning her gaze back to Sylvian.

"I believe so," Sylvian replied with a quiet sigh. "August harbors deep resentment toward my brother and me. You, more than anyone, understand the root of his bitterness, Aunt."

"He is striving to mend his ways, Sylvian. Try to bear with him," Georgia urged, her eyes filled with sympathy. "I truly believe it was the absence of love and affection that shaped him into the man he is today."

"That is true," Sylvian agreed softly. "Perhaps one day August will find it in his heart to forgive us. My brother and I never imagined that our own mother would become the source of his misery," he murmured, a shadow of deep regret falling across his features.

"I pray his heart softens soon then," Georgia stated gently, reaching across the table to pat his hand.