Dominic sat in a chair by the bed in Evangeline's bedroom, still in his sleeping robe, his gaze fixed on her peaceful, sleeping form beneath the soft layers of her nightwear. The faint glow of moonlight illuminated the room, casting shadows that danced across his face as he quietly opened an envelope Evangeline had obtained from a bar earlier that night. Inside were documents that could expose critical plans.
"She risked her life for this," he thought, his brow furrowing as he scanned the contents. "The Selding family won't let this slide easily. I'll need to find a way to deflect their retaliation."
He clenched the documents tightly, considering the gravity of what Evangeline had uncovered. They were plotting against the Sarogaths, he realized, brazenly ignoring the wrath of both Claude and Prince George. The evidence here would be more than enough to indict the Seldings, but there was one complication—Evangeline had obtained this information under a Selding identity. He knew that deception alone would paint a target on her back.
He exhaled slowly, eyes flicking back to her. "Thanks to her," he mused, "we can lift some of the burdens we've been carrying. But the Hawrick family… they dared to harass her. They'll need dealing with." His voice was barely a whisper, almost as if sharing his thoughts with the moonlight streaming in from the open balcony. Resolving to handle matters with the Seldings and the Hawricks, he placed the documents aside and lifted his teacup, strolling over to the balcony.
As he stood, bathed in the moonlight, Dominic's thoughts drifted to the history between their families. "The Seldings… so much bitterness remains," he reflected.
Just then, a soft mumble from Evangeline pulled him from his thoughts. Turning back to her, he moved quietly to her bedside, gently brushing a stray lock of hair from her face."Evangeline is in danger at this point" he murmured, a mix of admiration and slight worry in his tone.
His mind wandered to the complex history between the Sarogaths and the Seldings. Decades ago, the Seldings had fiercely vied for the Viceroy's position, their status nearly equal to the Sarogaths in prestige and power. Yet, the Seldings had chosen to betray their loyalty for ambition, double-crossing Claude's father, who had been king at the time. In an artful turn of fate, Claude's father turned the tables on the Seldings, leading them to believe they'd secure the coveted Viceroy's position—only for them to lose it at the last minute to Claude's cousin, Azielle, in a meticulously planned political maneuver.
After that betrayal, tensions boiled into an all-out feud. As punishment, the Seldings were stripped of their noble titles, relegated to mere business dealers when Claude ascended the throne over Verdaselles and Venian. Dominic's father and uncles then established themselves in Verdaselles, competing in the very markets the Seldings tried to dominate, eventually outpacing them because of how intelligent they are in business. Although both families had similar ruthless and criminal backgrounds, the Bruswards had proved themselves shrewder making the Seldings fall behind but still admired the Bruswards .
Dominic sighed, a weary chuckle escaping him. "Sometimes, I can't tell whether my family or the Seldings are the more narcissistic," he muttered, gazing back down at Evangeline's sleeping face, the light from the bedside candle illuminating her delicate features.
Evangeline groaned softly in her sleep, her face contorted as she mumbled, "Frederick… Fred…" Her hands groped for the pillow, which she hugged tightly against her chest. At the sound of his second name, Dominic felt a flicker of surprise, his cheeks warming as he involuntarily gulped. His fingers slipped from the teacup, abandoning it on a nearby table as he made his way to her bedside, curiosity mingling with a hint of mischief in his eyes.
He sat beside her, gently stroking her hair. Her hand reached out and caught his, gripping it tightly even in sleep. Startled by the firmness of her hold, he twitched but quickly settled himself, staying calm as he watched her. Tears escaped from beneath her closed eyelids, slipping down her cheeks, her fingers slowly releasing his hand.
"Frederick…" she murmured again, her voice filled with a quiet, aching need. Dominic leaned closer, studying her face intently. "She calls me again" he thought with a touch of amusement. "And here she is, clinging to me. Tomorrow she'll wake up all dramatic and deny it ever happened."
A small smile formed on his lips as he slipped down beside her, unable to resist the urge to lie next to her. She rolled over instinctively, her arms curling around him, pulling him closer. Dominic could only shake his head, amused as she buried her face against his chest, her breath warm against his robe. He felt her hold tighten, and for a moment, he marveled at her vulnerability for the second time, a side she rarely allowed anyone to see.
"Look at her," he thought with a playful smirk. "Holding onto me as if I'm her safe harbor. Imagine the fuss she'll make in the morning."
Just then, he heard a faint sob. He glanced down, his smile fading as he noticed her clenching his robe with trembling hands. "Frederick… don't leave," she whimpered, her face contorted in a fragile, desperate expression. "Mother… Father…" Her voice broke, soft but laced with fear. "I'm scared…"
Dominic's heart tightened as he watched her. Gently, he reached out, brushing her tears away, his fingers running through her hair to soothe her. He leaned down, his voice a barely audible thought. "It's all right, Evangeline. I'm here."
He sighed, cradling her closer, his hand tracing comforting circles on her back as she slowly relaxed. She sniffled, curling further into his embrace as her sobs softened. "Her body may be recovering, "he thought, frowning as he studied her tear-streaked face. "But her mind… she's still fighting a battle of her own. "He admired her resilience, yet the weight of her struggle saddened him because he couldn't do it in his time.
In the quiet moments that followed, Dominic continued to hold her, his earlier teasing thoughts softened by a new respect. Watching her finally sleep peacefully, he thought with a rare tenderness, "She's stronger than anyone gives her credit for."
The next morning, Evangeline found herself in the midst of a strange dream. She saw a familiar figure standing in the shadows—a man wearing an eye mask, one she remembered vividly from the night before. Her heart quickened as she recognized him.
"Frederick…?" she called out in her thoughts, the figure's masked face blending with the faint outline of another. But as her mind's eye sharpened the image, the mask faded, and she was stunned to see Dominic's face revealed beneath it.
"Dominic?!… Impossible…" she gasped, feeling her heartbeat surge as the vision unraveled. Jolting awake, she opened her eyes wide, breathing heavily and clutching her head. To her utter shock, Dominic was lying beside her in her bed, sound asleep, still wearing his robe.
She flinched, her mind racing. "What on earth is this bastard doing here? And where is Frederick? Was it all just a dream? "she wondered, a mix of confusion and annoyance flooding her thoughts. "Did Dominic come looking for me, or did he somehow… replace Frederick? And sleeping on my bed no less—ugh, the audacity!"
Reaching swiftly for the revolver tucked in the drawer beside her bed, she wrapped her fingers around its handle. Just as she drew it out, Dominic stirred, noticing her sharp breaths. He opened his eyes slowly, and the early morning light caught his face, illuminating his crystal-like gray eyes that seemed to sparkle as they adjusted to the daylight aligning with his beauty . Sitting up, he was about to speak, only to find the revolver's barrel pressed firmly against his forehead.
He raised his hands slightly, more amused than afraid, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips. His expression was calm, nearly mocking, as though he had anticipated this exact reaction.
"Good morning to you too, Evangeline," he murmured, his tone dripping with irony as his eyes met hers, unflinching.
"You're awake, Princess…" Dominic's voice broke the silence, a faint smirk on his face as she pressed the revolver firmly against his forehead.
"What are you doing in my bed?!" Evangeline snapped, her tone icy. Dominic's smirk widened slightly, clearly amused by her fury.
"You didn't warm my bed last night and even went as far as to purchase a doll to take your place. I thought it only fair to return the favor… you've only warmed it once, after all," he chuckled, his voice laced with sarcasm.
Evangeline's glare hardened, her fists tightening around the gun's handle. "I still don't understand why I have to share a room with you, let alone my bed!" She seethed, though she could feel the confusion boiling beneath her anger. "Why haven't I pulled the trigger? she wondered, growing frustrated with herself. Is it because of what happened in the car… when we were under that aphrodisiac?"
A slight shiver ran down her spine, and she tried to push the memory away, but it crept in—the tension, the closeness, the heat between them. Shaking off the thought, she clenched her jaw and glared at him. "Get out of my bed," she commanded coldly.
But Dominic remained unfazed. Ignoring her words entirely, he reached up and swiftly grabbed the gun from her hand, leaving her momentarily stunned. Before she could react, he pinned her down, pressing her into the mattress with a controlled force. One hand held her wrists above her head, the gun trapped between them, while his legs straddled hers, keeping her firmly beneath him.
They locked eyes, an electric intensity sparking between them as they lay inches apart. His voice was calm, yet it carried a dangerous edge. "Don't forget, we're married. Coming to my wife's bed isn't exactly a crime. Besides, didn't you see me naked already? What is there to be embarrassed about… or is it because I'm a Brusward? Does that mean I have no right to access my wife's body, or her bed?"
A flush crept over Evangeline's cheeks, and she glanced away, trying to hide her reaction. Her gaze fell on a faint bite mark, the one she left when she got drunk at the hotel , The sight brought a fresh surge of Embarrassment and she quickly turned her face away breathing heavily as she tries to suppress the emotions threatening to rise again
Dominic tossed the gun aside, gripping both her wrists as she struggled beneath him. With an unbothered calm, he reached out, tilting her chin up so that her gaze met his. "If I wanted to take you, Evangeline, to get between your legs and make love to you, I would… without hesitation." His voice was low and unwavering, almost a whisper against her skin. She froze, feeling his closeness and the press of his groin against her as he leaned on her, heat blooming in her cheeks despite her attempts to stay composed.
"But I'm not the kind of man in a hurry," he continued, leaning in just close enough that she could feel the warmth of his breath. "Once your training is complete, we can divorce—just as you've always wanted. A man like me can't give you children, after all."
The words hit her like a shockwave. Her mind reeled, stunned both by his insight into her thoughts and the startling confession. "How does he know?" Her cheeks flared, not from blush but from anger, infuriated that he could read her so clearly. But before she could demand more, he added in an indifferent tone, "I'm impotent, Evangeline."
Her brows shot up, her shock piercing through her frustration. "What did you say?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
He released her wrists, rising from the bed with a composed ease. Adjusting his robe, he faced away, his tone unbothered and cold. "You heard me Evangeline. The man you married is impotent, unworthy of giving you children. When you're the Duchess of this country—alone, as you've always planned—you can find a suitable man to give you an heir."
Evangeline's hand tightened around the hem of her nightdress, processing the weight of his words. "My marriage, it was all for the sake of the country", she thought bitterly. "Grandmother only married me off to him for alliances and taking over our family house. I'm sure she's hoping for heirs. But she was wrong—there won't be any. Just as I told Richard yesterday… none of this is real. None of this matters." Her mind shifted back to the fleeting memory of Frederick, the man she needed to find.
Dominic strode to her study table, gathering a small stack of records, his movements precise and detached. He approached, dropping them in front of her, his gaze neutral as he folded his arms. "These are the Viceroy's and Duke's records you requested."
She eyed the stack, noting how he had withheld them until now." So he finally decided to hand them over, "she thought with an irritated sigh. "This man never fails to be a thorn on my side "
Dominic turned away , his posture indifferent as he gazed out the window, leaving her alone to race her thoughts and the echo of his revelations.