Page 7 of Duke of the Sun

“The man you regard so casually is the Duke of this estate!”

“Does that give you the right to barge into my chambers, unannounced?”

The Duke barely looked at her as he paced, his hands unable to stop moving at his sides. He shook his head, lips moving as he muttered under his breath.

“Am I not owed an answer to your intrusion?” Cordelia asked, her voice raising. Not once did she allow herself to be reprimanded in such a manner, Duke or not. “I have done nothing to earn such an unwarranted response, your Grace!”

The Duke spun, suddenly marching towards her with his shoulder hunched like an animal stalking its clueless prey. “I will regard you in any such manner I please,” he snarled. “And as this is my estate, I have no qualms going wherever, even if it means your chambers. Have I made myself clear?”

Cordelia glared. Deep down, fear rumbled in the pits of her stomach. The way he loomed over her was frightening. The word didn’t seem to cover the exact feeling that began to smolder within her chest. Despite it, she kept her head held high, unwilling to succumb to his authoritative tactics.

“I am my own woman,” she replied. “I have boundaries that demand to be respected, even by a Duke. Have I mademyselfclear, your Grace?”

The Duke’s lips pressed so hard together they turned a shade of white.

Her eyes glanced down to a flutter of movement at his sides. His large, scarred hands could not stop trembling, as if he dove his hands into an icy cold lake.

“Why do you shake like that?” she asked. “Like you are afraid?”

The Duke’s eyes widened in surprise. At his sides, he clenched his hands together, forcing the trembling to hide beneath his skin. Even when he held in his fury, it remained obvious in his dark gaze.

“You will sleep,” he hissed. “You will sleep and leave me be.”

“I haven’t done a thing wrong!”

The Duke stormed towards the bedroom door, not bothering to turn when he said, “Goodnight!” His hand tightened around the knob and slammed as he pulled it shut behind him.

Cordelia ran forward, her hand just inches away from opening the door and yelling after him. She remained there for a few moments, staring at the door and hesitating. The frustration never ceased, not even when she released a heavy sigh and fell into her bed. Everything she felt was clouded by confusion and questions. The Duke was, in fact, a beastly man, but to be so hateful without anything to cause it? It felt outrageously ridiculous, and it happened to be the rest of her life.

Burying her face within the pillows, Cordelia squeezed her eyes shut, trying to imagine the geese from Darkenhill Manor and forget of the dark future she found herself falling into.

* * *

When morning came upon Solshire, Cordelia opened her eyes to a dark and twisted reality. Birds cawed outside the window, but all she craved was to remain within the sheets, refusing to acknowledge the life she found herself in. Even when she tried to tell herself it couldn’t have been all that bad, the moments from the previous evening came rushing back to her, and there was no use in trying to convince herself of otherwise.

“Perhaps,” she said to herself when she finally rose, looking through her trunks for a dress to wear, “I might start anew.”

It didn’thaveto be a nightmare. The marriage could’ve been a new beginning, a mutual partnership of freedom. If the Duke regarded her so lowly, perhaps she might spend her time engaged in her art, or whatever else she pleased.

Hope strung within her as she left the bedroom and entered the eerily quiet halls. It was a beautifully gothic manor, something she never experienced before. Not that it was her preferred style, but it felt like she wandered through one of the books she used to read. Even with the addition of the glowering Duke, it felt even more fantastical.

As Cordelia made her way through the halls, peering into rooms, she gathered her spirits up to talk to the Duke.

“I would like to begin anew,” she murmured to herself, practicing the words she wished to proclaim. “I recognize our union can be…is…perhaps a burden, but that does not have to…”

Cordelia turned into a dining room. The round table in the center was delicately decorated, with a single place set up for someone to dine. She stepped within the warm room, glancing around curiously.

“Your Grace.”

She spun around to see an older gentleman standing on the threshold. He dressed as any butler would, with a tidy coat and shined shoes. The man’s face twisted in a sour way, though she didn’t assume him to be a grouchy man. There was something inherently gentle about the way his eyes watched her, but Cordelia blamed that on her ignorant naivety.

“My name is Philip Hunters,” he continued, bowing his head deeply as he pressed further into the room. “I have been the head butler at this estate for quite some time.”

“It is a pleasure, Hunters,” Cordelia replied. “You are the Duke’s butler, then?”

“When he blesses us with his presence, your Grace.”

Cordelia crossed to one of the windows, pulling back the dark curtain to peek outside. “Might you fetch the Duke, then? I would like to speak with him as soon as possible.”

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