"I have never seen a woman treating her wounds lightly. They may leave a scar on your body." he frowned but she only raised a brow. She had never heard this kind of bullshit before.
"I can see a few scars on your hands and face. You are doing just fine." she smiled but he could see how she was irked as if he was babbling nonsense.
"But you are a.." woman! Suddenly, the word sounded wrong and he did not have the confidence to say it without earning mockery from her. But then… Why did he care about her opinion? He was only being kind to her.
"If you say so." he shrugged and looked away but her golden eyes kept staring at her as if she was still waiting for him to add something. "What is it?" he snapped, his voice came cold and irked. But she did not seem to mind it. She was no less than a ruffian thug, he deduced. She did not care about any insult or injury. He had only seen this kind of nature in knights and assassins.
"You are avoiding a question, my lord. What do you need from me." before he could reply, she added. "We both know that it is not as simple as marrying me. So save both of our time and speak the truth. I may not know what my mother was hiding but I know she was hiding something and I have ways to know that." she lied as she leaned on the chair and looked at him with a confident face. The first rule of lie was.. Make them real and they would leave others thinking about their reality.
The man's expressions changed. His gaze fell on the file he was holding earlier and after some reluctance, he passed it to her.
There was a couple in the painting holding a small child. The woman had golden hair and blue eyes but the man in the painting had fiery red hair and golden eyes. For some reason, she felt an uncanny resemblance from him. And the child..
"The picture is of the deceased duke and duchess of Lancaster Wildfire. The duchess died three days after giving birth while the duke passed away a few months ago. '' he started as she touched the picture. Her eyes had strange emotions in them.
Perhaps it was true that blood calls for blood. She looked heartbroken just like she had looked when she cried for that woman. He shifted in his seat. His chest felt heavy.
"Where is the child now?" she asked after a pause. The way she blinked her eyes. It was clear that she wanted to cry.
"It was a girl but she was lost a long time ago." when her gaze flickered and she stared at his face in confusion, he felt his chest tightening. This was the moment he was trying to evade. He had made all kinds of excuses for this moment.
Her clear golden eyes looked at him for answers. Her eyes searching for words that should change her life.
"She is the one and only heir of the dukedom. But since no one knows about her existence, the duchy leaves her and since i am a distant relative.." he tried but she understood it well. Since no one was here to claim the position. It was going to fall in his hands.
"Then you are one lucky bloke. But what do you want from me." uneasiness raised in her chest as she felt bad for the couple. Losing their newborn child would be heart wrenching but she did not know them. Their pain had nothing to do with her.
"Yes, I am lucky. But there are few who did not want me to be so lucky." she nodded, ignoring the bitterness of his voice. It was only natural for people to fight for wealth and that duke looked rich. The place was full of expensive things.
Only a part of that wealth would be enough for her to buy a new house and live an idle life. He waited for her to ask more questions but when she decided to shut her mouth at this crucial moment, his blood boiled and he felt frustrated.
"That is where I need your help." he spat those words out coldly. She must have realized that the child was her and she wanted him to beg her. But if she thought that she could claim her position and inheritance without his help, then she was wrong.
No one would believe that she was the lost princess. He meant, who would have known her when she stood in the bar as a harlot.
He was the one who had brought her here. And she would need him. All he wanted was her to marry him and he would handle all the troubles and bring her inheritance to her. All she needed was to share.. To share! And she would. He reminded himself when he saw her eyes widening. She looked at him and then at the picture again.
He felt the tightness of his clothes. Suddenly he was aware of the stitches of the shirt that touched his skin. The soft breeze that ruffled an unruly strand of his hair. He was aware of the sound of the fly when it flapped its wings.
He would trade everything to know what she was crossing through her mind when she looked at the picture and then at him with furrowed brows and then it dawned on her.
"You want me to pretend to be the lost child." huh!?
"Huh!!"