The Duke's Bed Warmer

Chapter 83: Dorian’s Escalation

Alina spent that night with Elspeth, sending word to Austin that she wanted to be with her. Austin had agreed without any condition or word.

The next morning, Alina walked Elspeth through the castle, showing her the library, the main garden, and the corridors that had slowly begun to feel familiar.

Elspeth didn’t say much, just observed. Her gaze lingered on everything, as though she were measuring the new life Alina had built here.

When they reached the great hall, she stopped.

Her eyes lifted to the ceiling designed with dark oak beams carved centuries ago.

"Your mother would have loved this ceiling," she murmured.

Alina followed her gaze. She had never really looked at it before. She had been too busy surviving to notice the architecture.

A servant approached them and bowed slightly.

"Miss Ashworth. A gift from Prince Dorian has been delivered to your room."

Alina exchanged a glance with Elspeth, then they turned back and went back to her room.

Her eyes went straight to a small velvet box on the desk. She picked it up, under it was a note.

For the woman who likes hairpins.

Alina frowned.

How does he know that?

She opened the box and found a gold hairpin, filigreed with beautiful design, set with a small green stone. It was the most beautiful hairpin she had ever seen.

Elspeth stepped closer, her eyes moving from the new pin to the blue stone pin already in Alina’s hair.

"Two hairpins?"

Alina closed the box.

"One is from His Grace. The other is from...you know."

"And which one will you wear?"

"The one already in my hair," she replied without hesitation.

She set the box aside and reached for the paper.

Thank you. The craftsmanship is extraordinary.

But Dorian didn’t stop there. He escalated. The next day, he went to the garden when she was working, carrying a hand-embroidered, dark blue shawl.

"A gift," he said, offering it to Alina. "From the silk workers of the Astorian highlands. The embroidery technique is seven hundred years old. I thought you’d appreciate the craft."

She unfolded it carefully. The embroidery was stunning. Every woman in the circle leaned closer.

"This is mastery. I’ve never seen anything like this." Lady Brennan ran her finger along a seam and whispered,

"This fabric alone is worth more than everything we’ve made so far," Marguerite added.

Alina ran her hand over the silk. It was exquisite. She hesitated but accepted it. Because the craft deserved respect and refusing it would mean refusing a seven-hundred-year tradition.

At the others’ urging, she draped it over her shoulder, feeling warm and strangely light.

Dorian watched her with genuine smile this time.

"Will you walk with me?"

She agreed. Elspeth gave her a look from the bench that meant be careful.

They moved away from the circle, towards the quieter side of the garden. For the first time, Dorian talked about Astoria.

"In Astoria, we have schools where women study alongside men."

Alina listened carefully.

"Astoria abolished the bed warmer system sixty years ago," he said. "My grandmother made that reform. She said any kingdom that sells women to warm beds deserves cold beds."

She slowed. The words hit her harder than she expected. She was drawn to the world he was describing...that sounded like the world all women deserved. The world she would build if she had the power.

"It sounds like a place worth visiting," she said.

"It’s a place worth living." He turned and looked at her. "You’d thrive there, Alina. Your mind, your skills...everything about you is wasted in this castle."

She stopped walking.

"I’m not wasted here. I’ve built a military workshop from scratch. In future..."

"You built it despite the system. Imagine what you can achieve without it," Dorian pressed.

For a moment, she could almost see the version of herself that didn’t have to fight for every little thing. But soon the vision faded.

"I’m not leaving Ravenmoor," she said.

"I’m not asking you to," he replied. "I only want you to know there are other ways to live."

They walked back in silence after that. But the picture of a different world stayed in her mind like a seed that hadn’t been watered but hadn’t died either.

Next day, he arrived at the garden again when everyone else had gone for lunch. This time he brought a necklace: a gold chain with a small pendant. It was the kind of gift a man would give a woman he was courting seriously.

"No," Alina said firmly. "I can’t accept this."

Dorian froze. For the first time, his smile had wavered around her.

"But why?"

"Because this crosses a line. I’ve already told you I’m not interested in you romantically," Alina said. "I accepted your other gifts because you’re a prince but this...is something I can’t accept."

He studied her briefly, then closed the box and put it in his coat.

"You’re right."

He took the rejection with the same grace he had given the gifts which only made him more dangerous.

Alina was almost done with her work for the day, when Austin entered the garden. Everyone froze. Austin had only come once before when he needed Alina to stich his button. But today, his demeanour was different. He looked angry.

"Alina. In my study now," He ordered.

Everyone turned to look at her. Alina put down her needle and walked out with Austin without a word.

"What happened?" she asked as they walked through the corridors.

He didn’t answer until they were in his study. He went to his desk and picked up a sheet of paper, holding it up so she could read it from across the room.

It had a list of items with dates.

The botany book.

The poetry book.

The hairpin: gold filigree.

The shawl: Astorian silk, hand-embroidered.

The necklace —gold chain with pendant but refused.

Every gift with details, was documented by Audrey’s and delivered to Austin like an intelligence report.

"Audrey gave me this an hour ago," Austin said. "Saying I should know what the prince has been giving my... bed warmer. She said she assumed I was aware but wanted to make sure nonetheless."

Alina stared at the list with disgust but softened when she looked at him.

"I was going to tell you."

"When?" He asked. "A foreign prince has given you five gifts in two weeks. He even gave you a necklace. What exactly were you waiting for?"

"I refused the necklace."

He chuckled.

"Seriously? This is your best argument?" he sighed. "You accepted everything else. You’ve been accepting gifts from a man who is trying to court you in my castle and you didn’t think of telling me?"

"Because I knew you’d react like this."

"Like this?" he repeated.

"Like a man who is angry that someone touched what belongs to him."

He slammed his hands on the desk. Alina flinched in fear.

"I’m not angry about the gifts," he said. "I’m angry that you didn’t tell me. You told me about everything else. Except for the man who has been giving you expensive gifts on a daily basis."

"Because the gifts don’t matter to me."

"But they matter to me," he yelled.

Silence fell as Alina froze.

This anger, possessiveness, the loss of control was new for Alina. She had never seen it directed at her before.

She was afraid.