Awakening Love: Reborn to Be His Duchess Chapter 473: A Morning at Ease

The words sounded like a complaint, yet the warmth in her eyes gave her away.

Cassian smiled, clearly amused. "Then I'll make you something worth waking up for. What are you craving?"

Elowen actually took a moment to think, then her whole face brightened. "Some kind of noodle soup, light broth, nothing heavy."

"Easy enough." Cassian shifted as if to get up.

Before he could, she wrapped both arms around his waist and held him in place.

He glanced down, his voice softening. "What's wrong?"

Her face pressed into his chest as she spoke. "We hardly ever get mornings like this. Stay a little longer and talk to me first. I'm not even that hungry yet."

Cassian gave in without hesitation. "Alright. I'm not going anywhere."

They lay together in the quiet, the distant sound of birdsong drifting in through the window as dawn settled fully over the estate.

"How did things go yesterday?" Elowen asked after a while. "Did anyone try to make things difficult for you?"

Cassian almost laughed, because plenty had tried, though very few had managed anything worth mentioning.

But something in him shifted, and he chose his words differently. "Yeah. Alaric didn't waste time. First thing out of his mouth, he started taking jabs at me, said I was broken, useless, that no one in this world would ever care about me."

Elowen went still for a heartbeat, then her eyes flared with anger. "What kind of nonsense is that? You have me. I love you, and our child will love you too. If anyone's alone, it's him."

Cassian watched her defend him with such conviction, and the corner of his mouth lifted. "It's nothing, Ella. I can handle a few insults."

"No." Her tone turned firm in a way that left no room for argument. "I don't like seeing anyone treat you like that. Next time I see him, I'm not letting it slide."

A quiet laugh escaped him. "Alright. I'll count on you to have my back."

They kept talking, unhurried and close, letting the morning stretch around them.

When she asked about the negotiations, Cassian walked her through everything in detail, holding nothing back.

By the time he finished, Elowen said with certainty, "When they revealed your recovery at the banquet, you must've felt incredible."

Cassian kept his expression composed. "It was fine. Still not as good as hearing you say you love me."

She was just about to respond when her stomach let out a very audible protest.

She froze, then flushed instantly.

So much for not being hungry.

Cassian chuckled under his breath, leaned in, and kissed her forehead before helping her out of bed.

In the manor's back kitchen, Elowen settled into a wooden chair while Cassian tied back his outer layer and set to work.

He poured flour into a bowl, added water, and began kneading with practiced, steady movements.

The dough came together under his hands, smooth and elastic, shaped with quiet precision.

Elowen watched him for a while before speaking again. "Alaric will probably go straight to His Majesty to complain. I wonder what kind of punishment he's hoping to stir up."

"I've already got people keeping an eye on the palace," Cassian replied calmly, never breaking rhythm.

The dough softened further beneath his palms, turning supple and even.

Elowen nodded, her thoughts aligning with his.

He had kept his recovery hidden on purpose, waiting for the right moment to use it against either Alaric or the Baker family.

What happened at the banquet had been expected.

Later that day, they returned to their chamber.

Elowen rested against a cushioned settee by the window while Cassian settled in front of her, carefully lifting her foot into his hands.

Her pregnancy had progressed enough that swelling had begun to set in, and some nights the discomfort woke her from sleep.

He had been too occupied before, and she had chosen not to burden him with it.

Now, with time on his side, he made up for it.

His hands were warm, his touch deliberate, working from her ankle upward along her calf, easing tension with steady, practiced pressure.

Elowen closed her eyes, her body gradually relaxing, her thoughts drifting.

A voice came from outside the door.

"Your Grace."

It was Bran.

Elowen blinked her eyes open, still half-drowsy.

"The corridor's been cleared," Bran continued. "No one else is within earshot."

Cassian didn't look up. "Go on."

Bran remained outside as he reported, "After leaving the Hall of Imperial Grace, His Highness returned directly to the Crown Prince's Wing. He did not seek an audience with His Majesty."

Elowen's eyes opened fully, sleep gone in an instant. "He didn't?"

That alone was enough to set off alarm bells.

That's not like him at all.

In Elowen's memory, there had always been a few sharp and perceptive attendants in the Crown Prince's Wing, the kind who knew how to read a room and steer trouble before it surfaced.

But ever since Alaric changed, he had kept everyone at a distance and allowed no one close at hand except Tristan.

As for Tristan, his loyalty was beyond question, but subtlety was not his strength. There was no chance he would ever think to advise restraint or caution.

She straightened slightly. "What happened on the way back? Was he alone?"

Bran answered promptly. "He was heading toward His Majesty's study at first, but stopped halfway. A maid spoke to him briefly, and after that, he turned around and returned."

Elowen's gaze sharpened. "Which maid?"

Bran had already looked into it. "Her name is Iris. She used to serve Lady Daphne. After Lady Daphne was disgraced and confined to the Secluded Wing, Iris remained in the Crown Prince's Wing and now attends His Highness."