Page 74 of Duke of the Sun

Four days ago, Michael took his leave from Solshire.

On the first day, Cordelia remained in her chambers, stuck to the window. She watched him leave on horseback, watched as he took a final look at the life he left behind, his gaze looking up where she stood - though she believed it to be a trick of the eye. Without a moment to lose, Michael sped off, the horse kicking up dirt with how fast it went. He was gone within an instant. Despite his immediate disappearance, Cordelia found herself to be stuck to the window. Even if she wanted to, her feet remained still, the only movement coming from her insistent heartbeat.

When it came time for lunch, a knock came from her door, and familiar footsteps echoed through the bedroom. And yet, Cordelia hardly had the strength to look over her shoulder, to leave her spot in the rare case that Michael returned over the horizon.

“Your Grace,” Mrs. Bellflower cooed from behind her. “It has been quite some time since you’ve eaten, or even taken a seat.”

Cordelia remained there still, all the words she wished to say trapped behind her tightly shut lips. The housekeeper stepped closer to her, the woman’s short reflection slowly appearing on the window. Concern was etched onto her face, undeniable pity lacing her eyes, visible even in the muddled reflection.

Mrs. Bellflower treadded closer. “Won’t you eat something as simple as crackers, your Grace? A few sips of tea?”

“I cannot,” Cordelia breathed, her voice unrecognizable. “Do not make me.”

The housekeeper let out a sad sigh. “I wouldn’t dare to, your Grace.”

And, without another word, Mrs. Bellflower took her leave, making sure to gently shut the door behind her. From where she stood, Cordelia watched the sunset. Perhaps her head met the pillow at some point, but she could hardly remember. Maybe she leaned against the wall and slept, or curled up alongside the windowsill, waking up every hour to peer outside, each time hoping to see Michael appear at Solshire’s front steps. The disappointment sunk so deep into her that the hunger or thirst she must have felt went unnoticed. There was only a growing sense of despair, the realization that her life was returning to a period of solitude too much for her to sanely bear.

On the second day, it was Hunters who entered her bedroom. He remained at the threshold, his hands held behind his back. Cordelia noticed him, suddenly, in the window’s reflection, entirely unaware that he even opened the door. She glanced at herself within the window, noticing how there were dark circles beginning to creep beneath her eyes, a hollowness taking over her normally round and pink cheeks.

“Your Grace,” Hunters called out to her, “Perhaps a trip to the orangery would do you some good.”

The moment he saidorangery,Cordelia flinched, the memory of Michael’s lips upon her own rattling her to the core. She clutched onto the curtain, afraid that her legs might give out from beneath her.

“Do not speak to me of the orangery,” she whispered, her voice hoarse and scratchy from a lack of water. “Do not.”

Hunters remained there for a few moments, merely watching her. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Cordelia watched him bow in the window’s reflection.

“As you wish, your Grace,” he murmured, before leaving, and shutting the door behind him.

There was not much more that she remembered happening during her dark days. Cordelia remained beside the window for as long as she could, till Michael’s absence stretched onto the fourth day. She allowed herself a few moments of a reprieve, leaving the windowsill to rest her legs or change the old dress she wore. In the end, she always returned to the spot, refusing to leave it for something to eat or drink. Even when her dog, Silas, yipped at her feet, desperate for some attention, she turned the yorkshire terrier to one of the members of staff instead.

On the fourth day, when the sun was high in the sky, a distant storm creeping over the horizon, bringing a sharp chill to the air, Cordelia’s bedroom door snapped open once more.

“Good Lord, Cordelia!”

She flinched at the familiar voice, surprised at her siblings' sudden arrival. Cordelia turned away from the window, her eyes falling upon Irene and Duncan within the threshold of her bedroom. Behind them, Mrs. Bellflower lurked before disappearing down the hall. Though Cordelia wondered what the staff might’ve told them about her recent attitude, she was not bothered enough to ask. Her gaze slowly slipped back towards the front lawn of Solshire.

“What has happened to you?” Irene asked, her voice gentle but dripping with a deep concern. “Our correspondence went flat, so I insisted Duncan come along with me for a visit.Thiswas the last thing I expected to find.”

Duncan stepped into the room after her, his dark brow sharply furrowed as he looked around. “Gracious, Cordelia, you look as if you haven’t slept in days.” He stormed forward, one hand grabbing a hold of her wrist to pull her away from the window. “You looked like a downright ghost in that damned window when our carriage arrived.” Duncan investigated her face closer, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. “Irene, fetch a servant. I demand an audience with the Duke of Solshire!”

Cordelia shook her head. “You will come up as empty handed as I have.”

“What on earth do you mean?”

“Michael no longer resides in Solshire,” she whispered, barely having enough energy to raise her voice. “He left days ago.”

Irene stepped forward. “Dear sister, what has happened?”

As Cordelia recounted the events that drove Michael far from her side, she allowed Duncan to guide her towards a chair, unable to deny how gracious she was to let her legs rest for a moment or two. Seeing her beloved siblings was a wonderful change towards staring out into the front of Solshire, though she felt quite adamant about returning to her position the moment she could.

Irene took a seat beside Cordelia, letting her arm drape across her shoulders, pulling the youngest sibling into a tight embrace against her bosom. “I can hardly understand what madness struck the Duke for him to leave in such a sudden way.”

“Who cares about understanding his reasons?” Duncan was pacing in front of the sofa in which his sisters sat, his hands clenched into tight fists on either side of him. Duncan’s heavy breathing filled the air as his anger grew. “I ought to seek the man out and demand a duel themomentI lay my eyes upon him! To deliver such disrespect to a Celeston, a sibling ofmine,it drives me more up a wall than anything else!”

Cordelia suddenly shot up from her seat. “You will do no such thing!” The sudden movement swayed her head slightly, the room spinning for a moment. “Duncan, do you hear me?”

He paused in his pacing, eyeing her over his shoulder. “You can hardly stand, Cordelia.”

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