affection chapter 13

“It’s a modest reward for saving a royal’s life. I’ll be sure to compensate you further later.”

“This is plenty!” The pouch was heavy enough to feel substantial even in Sienna’s hands, well-accustomed to handling household finances.

Though she hadn’t intended flattery, the Duke’s lips curved upward in amusement. “Then I’ll have to see if your hands reach out just as readily then.”

Sienna’s face flushed. She felt like a slave to materialism. The Duke was more mischievous than she’d expected. She felt Damon’s gaze on her, but couldn’t bring herself to meet his eyes, instead looking off into the distance.

The Duke turned to Damon, who was standing by the door, and bowed slightly to meet his gaze. Damon, however, wore a sullen expression.

“Well then, I’ll be going.”

“Yes, please be careful on your way back. Thank you.”

Was it just her imagination, or was there a subtle edge to Damon’s voice?

Though Damon was clearly on guard, the Duke seemed unfazed. “Oh, and I’ll send someone soon to take over Baron Limerio’s duties managing the estate. They’ll reside in Marbas Castle and act as your true guardian. I’d prefer to do it myself, but I’ve been away from the dukedom for six years and have a mountain of work to deal with. They’re currently handling other official business, so it will take about a week for them to arrive.”

“Yes, I understand. You may go.” Damon practically dismissed the Duke. Sienna looked at him with surprise, but the Duke simply chuckled knowingly, declining further farewells and departing.

The heavy sound of footsteps faded as the door clicked shut. Sienna sighed, feeling drained as if a storm had just passed through.

Then, someone tugged at her sleeve. Damon, still looking displeased, filled her vision.

“Sienna.”

“Yes, Young Master?”

“Why… do people shake hands?”

Shake hands? Sienna thought carefully, trying to answer at a level he would understand. “Well, it can be a greeting… or a way to ask how someone is… or even a way to ask for a favor.”

“Can close friends shake hands?”

“Yes, they can. Usually.”

“Then… can I shake hands with you too?” Damon asked, subtly gauging her reaction.

Could his sullenness have been because she shook hands with the Duke? The thought crossed her mind, but Sienna quickly dismissed it. ‘As if it would bother him that much.’

“Of course. Here, like this.” Sienna clasped Damon’s hand.

As soon as their hands met, Damon’s initially hesitant face blossomed like a morning glory catching the sunlight. A smile touched Sienna’s lips as she watched him. ‘So cute.’ He probably wouldn’t appreciate the comment, but his shyness was so endearing she wanted to hug and squeeze him. Seeing his face, now that they were out of the dark dungeon, made him seem even more adorable. Appearances truly did make a difference.

But… his hand felt strangely warm. “Young Master… your hand feels a little hot… Do you have a fever?”

“No. I’m fine.”

“If you say so… But… Oh my, Young Master!” Mere seconds after saying he was fine, Damon swayed, then went limp like a doll with drained batteries, starting to fall backward.

Sienna gasped and grabbed his arm, pulling his weight towards her. Thankfully, he was light enough for her to support him.

She carefully guided him to the sofa and touched his forehead. It was burning up. What was going on? Panicked, Sienna rushed to the hallway door and called out sharply, “Is anyone there?!”

“What is it?” a servant passing by replied.

“The Young Master has collapsed! He has a high fever.”

The servant, startled, hurried into the drawing-room. Their face paled upon seeing Damon lying lifelessly on the sofa.

“How did this…?”

“He has a terrible fever! We need to get him to bed. Help me.”

“Yes, of course.” The servant lifted Damon into their arms, and together they rushed down the hallway toward his bedroom.

***

On the ride back to the dukedom, the scenery blurred past the Duke on horseback. His gaze drifted to the lush green forest, and a small smile touched his lips as he recalled the conversation with his nephew.

‘So, why did you suddenly decide to tell me?’ the Duke had asked Damon, after Sienna had tactfully excused herself.

‘And why ride all the way here in the pouring rain, in the middle of the night?’ He knew Damon wasn’t a particularly skilled rider. 

The journey between Damon’s estate and his own took over half a day, and even longer in the dark, navigating muddy paths. Yet, Damon had arrived at the Duke’s castle drenched and leading his horse. He must have even fallen off at some point, because he was in such a disheveled state that he was almost turned away at the gate. If the Duke hadn’t returned from his six-year campaign two days prior, Damon would have been sent away. The thought made him shudder.

“It was truly an act of providence…” Damon had stammered, swaying before him, begging the Duke to save a young maidservant who was on the verge of death after intervening in the Baron’s abuse.