Chapter 89: The Missing Piece

Chapter 89: Chapter 89: The Missing Piece

For several moments, neither man spoke.

Cassian appeared content to wait.

Which somehow made Duke Valmort more suspicious.

Most people became nervous during important conversations.

Cassian looked like a man who had spent the entire night preparing for one.

An alarming trait.

Particularly under the circumstances.

Finally, the Duke folded his hands atop the desk.

"Very well."

His voice remained calm.

Measured.

"Lady Marian is a rather broad subject."

Cassian inclined his head slightly.

"That’s true."

The answer was so reasonable that it immediately irritated the Duke.

"Then perhaps you would care to be more specific."

Cassian paused briefly.

Then chose his words carefully.

"I realize this conversation may come as a surprise."

"An accurate observation."

For the first time, something that might have been understanding appeared in Cassian’s eyes.

"If Lady Marian has not already spoken with you, then I owe you an apology for what follows."

Silence.

The Duke stared.

Because that was a very interesting sentence.

Very interesting indeed.

And suddenly he found himself wondering exactly how much Duke Ashford expected him to know.

"She has."

The answer came before he could stop himself.

Cassian went still.

Only briefly.

Yet the Duke noticed.

Of course he noticed.

Because for the first time since entering the room, Duke Ashford looked relieved.

Not dramatically.

Not enough for most people to catch.

But enough.

Interesting.

Very interesting.

"I see."

Cassian’s voice remained steady.

Yet somehow the room felt different afterward.

As though a burden had become slightly lighter.

The Duke disliked that immediately.

"Then perhaps we can dispense with misunderstandings."

The Duke leaned back.

Studying him.

"Continue."

Cassian nodded.

"I understand the position this places Lady Marian in."

Interesting.

"I understand the consequences."

"The political implications."

"The personal implications."

"The effect upon House Valmort."

"The Imperial Family."

"The Crown Prince."

The Duke remained silent.

Listening.

Waiting.

Because this no longer sounded like an ordinary conversation.

It sounded increasingly like a declaration.

And Duke Valmort was beginning to suspect he knew exactly what kind.

"I did not come here lightly."

Cassian finished.

The Duke stared.

Then slowly asked:

"And why did you come?"

A simple question.

A direct question.

The sort of question that demanded a direct answer.

For the first time since entering the room, the atmosphere shifted.

Subtly.

Yet unmistakably.

Because both men understood they had finally reached the heart of the matter.

Cassian’s gaze remained steady.

Unwavering.

"I came because I care for Lady Marian."

Silence.

Absolute silence.

The Duke did not move.

Did not speak.

Did not blink.

Because suddenly—

Very suddenly—

The missing pieces began falling into place.

The hunting retreat.

Marian.

The engagement.

The Crown Prince.

Cassian.

One piece.

Then another.

Then another.

And with each one, the picture became clearer.

The Duke’s headache evolved into something far more serious.

"Oh."

The word escaped before he could stop it.

A single syllable.

Yet somehow it contained an entire conversation.

Because now—

Now he finally understood.

Or at least understood enough.

"You."

Cassian did not flinch.

Did not deny it.

Did not look away.

Which was unfortunate.

Because guilty men were often easier to deal with.

"You care for my daughter."

The statement hung between them.

Cassian answered without hesitation.

"Yes."

The Duke closed his eyes briefly.

Only briefly.

Because after twenty-four hours of searching for explanations, he had finally found one.

And unfortunately—

It explained far too much.

For several moments, silence filled the study.

Neither man seemed eager to break it.

The Duke stared at the young man seated across from him.

Twenty-three years old.

A decorated war hero.

One of the most powerful dukes in the Empire.

A man respected by nobles, soldiers, and commoners alike.

Under any other circumstances, Duke Valmort would have considered him an excellent match.

An excellent match.

The thought nearly made him laugh.

Under any other circumstances.

Unfortunately, these circumstances involved the Crown Prince.

A significant complication.

"You understand that she is engaged."

The statement was flat.

Not a question.

Cassian nodded.

"Yes."

"And you understand who she is engaged to."

"Yes."

The Duke’s fingers tapped once against the arm of his chair.

A dangerous sign.

"Yet here you are."

Cassian did not look away.

"Yes."

The Duke stared.

Then stared a little longer.

Because the boy—no, not a boy anymore—the man had the audacity to answer honestly.

The Duke found that both admirable and irritating.

Mostly irritating.

"You realize," he said carefully, "that if anyone else were sitting where you are now, I would assume they had lost their mind."

A faint smile appeared in Cassian’s eyes.

Not on his face.

Only in his eyes.

Which somehow made it worse.

"A reasonable assumption."

The Duke pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Stop agreeing with me."

"Yes, Your Grace."

That answer was immediate.

The Duke disliked it on principle.

For a brief moment, he understood why Adrian occasionally looked as though he wanted to strangle his cousin.

An enlightening experience.

Not a pleasant one.

The Duke exhaled slowly.

Then leaned back.

Studying him again.

More carefully this time.

Because now that he knew what he was looking at, certain things became obvious.

The hunting retreat.

The timing.

Marian’s sudden decision.

Cassian’s appearance here.

Individually, each piece meant little.

Together, they formed a very uncomfortable picture.

"When did this happen?"

The question escaped before he could stop it.

Cassian understood immediately.

The Duke saw it.

Of course he did.

The man was too perceptive not to.

Yet surprisingly, Cassian did not answer immediately.

Which told the Duke more than an instant answer would have.

Finally:

"I don’t know."

The Duke blinked.

That was not the answer he expected.

Cassian looked faintly dissatisfied with it himself.

"I know when I realized it."

The Duke remained silent.

Listening.

"I don’t know when it began."

For some reason, that answer felt more honest than anything else Cassian could have said.

Which was unfortunate.

Because honest answers were difficult to dismiss.

The Duke frowned.

"And Marian?"

A pause.

Then:

"You would have to ask her."

Interesting.

Very interesting.

Because that was not a man trying to claim ownership of someone else’s feelings.

Nor was it a man speaking for her.

The distinction did not escape the Duke.

Unfortunately.

The Duke preferred simpler problems.

This was rapidly becoming a very complicated one.

Another silence settled between them.

Then the Duke asked the question that truly mattered.

"Does Adrian know?"

This time there was no hesitation.

"Yes."

Of course he did.

The Duke had known the answer before asking.

Still—

Hearing it aloud made everything feel more real.

"And?"

Cassian held his gaze.

The room seemed strangely still.

Then:

"He doesn’t agree."

The Duke barked a laugh.

A short sound.

Entirely devoid of humor.

"No."

His voice was dry.

"I imagine he wouldn’t."

For the first time, something very close to mutual understanding passed between the two men.

Brief.

Unexpected.

Almost absurd.

Because neither needed further explanation.

Neither needed details.

Neither needed clarification.

Of course Adrian didn’t agree.

Why would he?

The Duke stood and crossed toward the window.

The gardens stretched below.

Beautiful.

Orderly.

Peaceful.

Unlike his life.

Behind him, Cassian remained silent.

Giving him space to think.

The Duke appreciated that.

A little.

Not much.

Just enough.

After a long moment, he spoke without turning around.

"Do you have any idea what happens if this becomes public?"

The question hung in the air.

Cassian’s answer arrived quietly.

"Yes."

The Duke almost laughed again.

Because that answer was impossible.

No, you don’t.

No twenty-three-year-old understood the full consequences of this.

No one did.

Not even him.

Yet when he turned around, he found no arrogance in Cassian’s expression.

No confidence.

No recklessness.

Only determination.

Which was somehow more alarming.

"Then tell me."

The Duke folded his arms.

"Tell me exactly what you think happens next."

And for the first time since entering the study, Cassian looked less like a man confessing his feelings.

And more like a duke preparing for battle.

--

To be continued...