A Touch of Shadow: The Duke's Obsession

Chapter 47: Hidden Past

"Commander Thorne has come today regarding the matter of Yvy’s—of Yvaine’s former case. Remain here and attend," Dorian said evenly.

Caelith inclined her head in acknowledgment. She stepped toward the tea table, lifting the porcelain teapot with steady hands, and poured a fresh cup for Rhaegar.

Rhaegar’s gaze rested upon her.

At once, he sensed something amiss.

Though her cheeks bore a faint bloom of rouge, it could not conceal the pallor beneath. There was a fragility to her composure that had not been there before.

Had she... been shaken by last night?

Before he could dwell further, Dorian spoke again.

"Commander Thorne, since you have come in person, has there been any new development in the investigation?"

Rhaegar set his cup down with measured calm.

"The case remains under inquiry. I came today merely to ask whether Lady Yvaine might recall any overlooked details from that day—or whether she noticed any suspicious persons."

Dorian’s brow furrowed faintly.

"She was greatly frightened that day. I fear her memory may be unreliable. Perhaps it would be better for Commander Thorne to send someone another day to inquire?"

"It is of no consequence," Rhaegar replied lightly. "Today’s visit is but a casual inquiry. Should Lady Yvaine recall anything further, she may report directly to the Shadow Guard. We shall see the matter thoroughly investigated."

"You have my thanks, Commander," Dorian said with a courteous nod.

Rhaegar gave a faint wave of dismissal, then turned his gaze once more toward Caelith.

"The Lady of the house appears somewhat unwell. Your complexion is lacking its usual color."

Caelith stepped back half a pace, lowering her gaze with composed restraint.

"The affairs of the household have been somewhat taxing of late. I am merely a little fatigued. I thank Commander Thorne for his concern."

Yet even as she spoke, her eyes betrayed her.

They drifted—slowly, almost involuntarily—toward his waist.

She remembered.

That jade pendant... he always wore it close.

And yet, each time she had seen him before, her thoughts had been too easily scattered by his presence to observe it closely.

Now...

Now she had to see it clearly.

Rhaegar noticed.

The corner of his lips curved faintly.

Without a word, he lifted his hand and adjusted his belt ever so slightly—just enough to reveal the pendant at his waist.

And in that instant, Caelith saw it.

Her breath stilled.

The carving... the lines... the unmistakable pattern—it was identical.

The very same as the broken half now hidden within her chamber.

Not merely similar—it was the other half.

A matched pair.

A twin-flower jade—one bearing the bottom leaves, the other the top petals—meant to be joined as one.

Her mother’s hidden relic...

And the pendant Rhaegar carried close to his person, they had once been whole.

A single piece.

A faint tremor passed through her fingertips.

What was the meaning of this? What bond lay hidden between her mother... and him?

Or rather... Between her past... and the man before her?

Rhaegar, having seen that she understood, lowered his hand once more, tucking the jade back beneath his belt.

Only then did Caelith come to herself.

She quickly averted her gaze, feigning composure as she adjusted her sleeve, though her heart was anything but calm.

All of this did not escape Dorian’s notice.

His eyes flickered between them, a trace of suspicion rising.

"What were you looking at?" he asked suddenly.

Caelith steadied herself and replied without hesitation, "I was merely thinking—it is nearly time for the evening meal. I wondered whether Commander Thorne might remain and dine with us."

Dorian, hearing nothing amiss, turned to Rhaegar.

"In that case, Commander Thorne, why not stay and join us for dinner?"

Rhaegar gave a low, amused chuckle, his gaze sliding back to Caelith with a hint of teasing depth.

"There is no need. I have other matters to attend to. I shall take my leave."

"Very well," Dorian said, not pressing further. "Then I shall not detain you."

"Please, there is no need for the lord to see me off," Rhaegar said as he rose.

Dorian immediately stood as well, offering a polite bow. "Commander Thorne is burdened with affairs of state. On another day, I shall host you properly."

"Very well." With that, Rhaegar turned and strode out without further ceremony.

Caelith watched him go, hesitation flickering in her eyes.

She had to ask him about the jade pendant.

Drawing a steady breath, she turned to Dorian. "My lord, the estate paths are winding. Allow me to escort Commander Thorne to the gate."

Dorian gave a slight nod, unsuspecting. "Very well. See him to the entrance—do not neglect proper courtesy."

"Yes."

Without delay, Caelith turned and followed, her steps quickening as she hurried after Rhaegar along the covered corridor.

On either side of the passage, slender birch trees swayed gently, their leaves whispering in the evening breeze, while clusters of crabapple blossoms stirred faintly in the fading light.

Ahead, Rhaegar slowed his pace.

As though... he had been waiting.

Caught off guard, Caelith nearly walked straight into him. She halted abruptly, lowering her gaze.

"Commander Thorne..."

A trace of amusement flickered in his eyes.

Before she could speak, he reached out and seized her wrist. She instinctively tried to pull away—but his grip was too firm.

The distance between them vanished in an instant.

He leaned slightly closer, his gaze dark with playful provocation. "Why were you stealing glances at me just now?"

Color rose swiftly to her cheeks.

"I... I was not—" Her denial came too quickly, too weak to convince.

Rhaegar’s smile deepened, clearly unconvinced. He leaned nearer still, his voice dropping to a low, teasing murmur beside her ear:

"You were not? Then why did your eyes linger at my waist? Hmm... were you thinking of me?"

His breath brushed against her ear, warm and dangerously intimate.

A shiver ran through her.

She wished to refute him—but the words caught in her throat, refusing to form.

His hand rose, fingertips grazing lightly over her earlobe.

That single touch was enough.

A tremor passed through her entire body, her strength seeming to melt away beneath the faintest caress.

Just then, footsteps approached from the far end of the corridor.

"It’s getting dark—we should light the lamps soon," came the chatter of a few passing maids.

Panic flashed across Caelith’s eyes.

She raised her hand to push him away—if they were seen in such proximity, rumors would spread like wildfire, and the consequences would be disastrous.

But Rhaegar did not release her.

Instead, with a swift motion, he drew her aside, behind one of the walls.

The wall concealed them at once, but the space beyond it was narrow—far too narrow.

They stood pressed together, bodies nearly touching, their warmth colliding.

Caelith was held fast within his embrace, her back against the cool surface of the wall, her cheek resting against his chest.

She could hear it—the steady rhythm of his breathing.

And her own heartbeat... echoing wildly in response.