A Touch of Shadow: The Duke's Obsession

Chapter 53: Petty Schemes

On this day, Caelith personally went to the kitchens to prepare a nourishing broth. Rhaegar had said her body was weakened, and at great expense had procured a thousand-year ginseng root to restore her strength.

He had consulted the best healers in the Empire and it cost him quite a lot of gold to get it delivered from the Eastern border.

When the broth was ready, she carried it carefully in her hands, Dolly following close behind, as they walked along the winding garden path. Just as they reached the rockery, Yvaine appeared ahead, accompanied by Charlotte.

At the sight of the steaming bowl in Caelith’s hands, a calculating glint flashed through Yvaine’s eyes.

She quickened her pace, moving straight toward her. Caelith, noticing, shifted slightly aside—but before she could avoid her, Yvaine suddenly lunged forward and collided with her.

Caught off guard, Caelith lost her grip. The bowl slipped from her hands, and in an instant, the scalding broth spilled across her dress.

Yvaine staggered back, feigning alarm. "Oh! Sister, I am terribly sorry—my footing slipped just now, and I lost my balance. I did not mean to knock over your broth... nor to spill it upon you."

Yet as she took in Caelith’s disheveled state, a flicker of satisfaction stirred within her. She had been certain Caelith would endure the insult in silence—that was precisely why she had dared such a move.

But Caelith only looked at her from under her brows.

Her gaze was cold—so cold it seemed to freeze the very air.

Not a word passed her lips.

The servants had never seen their lady thus. The gentle, composed mistress they knew was nowhere to be found; in her place stood someone entirely different.

"Sister, I truly did not mean it," Yvaine continued, adopting a pitiful tone. "If you are angry, you may scold me as you wish..."

She had barely finished speaking when Caelith’s hand rose and struck her across the face.

The sound rang sharp and clear.

Yvaine staggered, stunned beyond belief. One hand flew to her cheek as she stared at Caelith, eyes wide with shock.

She had never imagined—never—that Caelith would dare to strike her in public.

"You... you dare to hit me?"

Caelith flexed her wrist lightly, her voice calm yet edged with frost. "That strike was to teach you the meaning of propriety. As a concubine, you ought to show due respect upon seeing the lady of the house. And yet you deliberately collided with me, overturning the broth—do you truly think I cannot see through your petty schemes?"

She stepped forward, her gaze locking onto Yvaine with unyielding intensity.

"Should you dare act so brazenly again," she said quietly, "I shall ensure my husband learns in full what ’fine deeds’ you committed before ever entering this household."

Yvaine’s face drained of all color in an instant. If Caelith truly revealed those past affairs to Dorian, she would have no place left in the household—no ground upon which to stand.

She knew, with chilling certainty, that Caelith was not merely bluffing. She must have grasped some fragment of the truth already. And if pressed too far, there was no telling what she might do.

"Return to your courtyard," Caelith said coldly, her voice leaving no room for defiance. "And reflect well upon yourself."

Yvaine bit down hard upon her lip, fury blazing within her chest—yet she dared not remain. Turning sharply, she fled in disarray, Charlotte hurrying after her.

The surrounding maids stood stunned. Never had they imagined that the gentle and composed Caelith would, before all eyes, strike Yvaine without hesitation.

"My lady," Dolly hurried forward, concern etched across her face. "Are you hurt? Let me take you back to change your clothes."

Caelith gave a small nod and allowed herself to be guided away.

Back in her courtyard, Dolly reached at once for her garments. "Let me see how badly you’ve been burned. If blisters form, it will be troublesome."

"It is nothing," Caelith replied, shaking her head lightly. "Only a pity... that bowl of broth is lost."

"My lady has been scalded, and yet still thinks of the broth?" Dolly frowned. "No matter how rare it was, it cannot compare to your well-being."

"It was a thousand-year ginseng," Caelith said softly, a faint sigh escaping her. She slipped out of her outer robe and changed into the fresh garments Dolly had prepared.

What she did not say aloud was this: that it had been a gift from Rhaegar, and thus she had been reluctant to waste even a single drop.

When she had finished dressing, she sat in thought for a long while. At last, she instructed Dolly to bring forth a sachet she had embroidered days before. It had been made in idle hours, with no intended recipient—but now, she found it most fitting for one man.

"I will go out tomorrow," she said quietly. "You need not follow me."

"Yes, my lady."

***

The following day dawned bright and clear.

Avoiding the notice of all within the Dorian estate, Caelith made her way silently to Firefly Lane.

Within the courtyard, beneath a blossoming pear tree, stood Rhaegar.

Today, he wore no official robes—only simple attire. Yet as his sword moved, light flashed along its edge, and petals drifted through the air like falling snow, stirred by the elegance of his motion.

At the sight, something within Caelith faltered once more.

Once, she had merely thought him handsome—but now, he seemed like a figure stepped out of a painting, unreal and arresting.

She stood there, momentarily lost, until he drew his blade to a stop and their eyes met.

"You have come today?" Rhaegar set the sword aside, his tone touched with mild surprise. "The three-day mark has not yet arrived. Have you come again to learn self-defense?"

A faint warmth rose to her cheeks. She turned her gaze away, suddenly aware of herself. "I did not come to learn."

"No?" He arched a brow, a hint of mischief in his eyes. "Then... have you come because you missed me?"

"I came to thank you."

"To thank me?" Rhaegar smiled. "For what, I wonder?"

"For the thousand-year ginseng you gave me," she said softly. "Only..."

"Only what?" he pressed, stepping a little closer. "What happened?"