The room was hushed, bathed in the soft glow of candlelight. Imogen, the young child who had brought an unexpected bond between Helena and Kayden, slept soundly, her breathing steady and peaceful. Kayden couldn't help but be drawn to the sight of Helena tenderly caring for the slumbering girl.
Raphael observed Kayden from the corner of the room, his young mind filled with curiosity and a touch of mischievousness. He had picked up on the way Kayden's gaze seemed to soften when it fell on Helena. And so, the question that danced at the tip of his tongue finally found its way into the stillness of the room.
"Duke Kayden," he began, his voice barely above a whisper, "do you like Her Grace?"
The question hung in the air, and for a brief moment, a look of sheer astonishment crossed Kayden's face. The Duke hadn't expected such an inquiry from the observant child. He blinked, as if searching for the right response. "No," he replied tersely, almost too quickly.
