fiance chapter 7

The Duke inquired, and Sophia, startled, closed her mouth. His face softened, returning to its usual gentle concern. Though she wanted to pull away, his demeanor confused her, and she allowed his touch. He brushed a stray lock of hair from her face, then cupped her chin, tilting it up to meet his gaze. His uniquely blue eyes quietly scanned her features.

“Have you lost your memory? Do you remember… anything? Yourself?”

Sophia bit her lip before answering. “Of course. I just don’t remember that night.”

“That night, before you took the poison?”

“Yes.”

“Oh dear.” The Duke’s exclamation was laced with sympathy. His gentle touch returned, a comforting caress against her cheek. “That must have been a shock. Waking up engaged. Poisoning happens, I suppose, but I never imagined it would happen to you, Sophia. Are you truly alright? Shall I have you taken back to your room?”

His gaze, filled with concern and remorse for his earlier pressure, held hers. Sophia studied him for a moment before asking, “I truly confessed to you?”

“Yes.” His finger playfully traced the bridge of her nose. Sophia looked at him, her resolve wavering. Her initial resistance was melting away under the warmth of his apparent concern and gentle affection. With his handsome face so close, a thought flickered within her. Perhaps… she had been undeniably drunk that night, completely inebriated. If, by some chance, she had encountered him, she might have, if not confessed her undying love, at least flirted. Still, engagement?

“We’re truly engaged?”

“Yes. His Majesty has even given his approval,” the Duke said with a slight smile. Sophia felt a wave of bewilderment wash over her. Even if she had flirted, a single flirtation shouldn’t lead to an engagement. And he was a Duke. Marriage to him would elevate her overnight to the daunting position of Duchess.

Seemingly sensing her apprehension, the Duke took her hand. “If the marriage is a burden, don’t worry. We can take things slowly. Focus on recovering and regaining your memory.”

“But…”

“There’s nothing for you to worry about. You’re all that matters to me.” He gently kissed the back of her hand.

Sophia felt a strange sensation wash over her. His words and his gaze seemed so sincere. He genuinely seemed to care for her. But that was absurd. Sophia had always considered the Duke a figure akin to the Emperor—a prominent presence, yet one she believed she would never truly encounter. The Duke, in turn, was likely unaware of her existence. Was it possible to fall in love with a woman you didn’t even know existed? Sophia felt a knot forming in her stomach.

When she remained silent, the Duke rose smoothly, brushing a kiss against the top of her head. “I’ll leave you to rest. You seem uncomfortable. Take care of yourself.”

She was grateful he didn’t linger. Amidst her confusion, she murmured a habitual, “Thank you, Your Grace.” She longed for him to leave so she could process everything. Just as he reached the door, he turned back to her.

“May I ask one thing?” His tone was gentle, yet Sophia, who had always been intimidated by him, felt she couldn’t refuse a “request” from the Duke.

“Of course.”

As Sophia lowered her head, the Duke offered a brief smile. “Call me Cal.”

She stiffened. The very idea felt incredibly presumptuous. Noticing her discomfort, he chuckled, a hint of awkwardness in his voice. “Is that difficult?”

Sophia, waiting for this exact opening, rushed to reply, “Yes, Your Grace. I’ve only just regained consciousness, and you are… well, you.”

“No, Sophia,” the Duke interrupted her rambling excuses, his voice soft yet firm. He held her gaze. “Call me Cal.” It wasn’t a request, but a command.