Awakening Love: Reborn to Be His Duchess Chapter 475: What She's Become

Pressed against Cassian's chest, Elowen listened to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. It was slow, grounded, and reassuring in a way that settled something deep inside her.

"It's alright, Ella," he said quietly, his chin resting against her hair. "Everything is unfolding the way it should."

She breathed in, letting herself sink into that steadiness. "Even if something doesn't go the way we expect, it'll still be alright."

He shifted slightly, his voice low with curiosity. "Oh?"

"I'm not the same person I used to be."

She spoke without hesitation now, her tone calm but certain. "For a long time, I kept thinking I wasn't enough. After my father and uncles were gone, and after my brother passed, I convinced myself I could never carry Hale Manor on my own. I thought I'd fall short the moment it truly mattered."

Her fingers tightened slightly against his sleeve before relaxing again.

"But lately, I've started to see things more clearly. I understand what people are really after, I can weigh what matters and what doesn't, and I know how to hold on to the people I care about."

She leaned back just enough to look at him, her gaze steady, every word deliberate.

"So if anything ever happens to you, Cassian, if Duskmoor Manor is ever at risk, I won't hide away and break down where no one can see me. I'll stand my ground. I'll protect you, this house, and everyone in it who matters to me. I know I can do that."

For a moment, Cassian said nothing.

He simply looked at her.

Sunlight streamed across her face, softening every line, giving her an almost luminous warmth. The gentle fullness of pregnancy had replaced the last traces of girlish fragility with something steadier, something quietly enduring.

He found he couldn't look away.

Somewhere along the way, without him realizing it, Ella had changed.

She was no longer someone who needed to be shielded.

She wasn't the same person anymore. She'd come into her own, steady and self-possessed, with a quiet confidence that didn't need to announce itself. There was a grounded strength in her now, something you could feel even when she said nothing at all, held beneath an easy, composed exterior.

A warmth spread through his chest, leaving him speechless. He lowered his head and kissed her, slow and unhurried, as if there were no need to rush anything at all.

When he finally pulled back, he rested his forehead against hers, their breaths mingling in the narrow space between them.

"Alright," he murmured, his voice softer than before. "Then I'll leave the rest of my life in your hands."

With the broader terms of the Nordia negotiations already set, the following days were spent refining details. For once, Cassian had time to spare, and he spent it entirely with Elowen.

They passed the hours reading together, playing quiet games of chess, or strolling through the courtyard after meals, letting the day stretch out at an unhurried pace.

For a little while, life felt simple. Almost ordinary. Like any noble couple with nothing more pressing to worry about than how to spend the afternoon.

Elowen found herself wishing those days would last longer.

News of Cassian's full recovery spread quickly through Vanelle, and before long, Falconcrest Manor and Warren, along with others, either sent gifts or came in person to offer congratulations.

Cassian had little patience for any of it. He dismissed them with a few perfunctory words and returned to what he actually cared about, which was making sure Elowen ate well.

On the third day, just before noon, he selected two excellent cuts of beef and headed straight for the kitchen, already planning how he would prepare them.

Not long after, Anson arrived with a message.

"Your Grace, Lord Dominic requests an audience."

Elowen lifted her brows slightly. "Did he come in a personal capacity, or is this official?"

"He says it concerns state matters."

That made turning him away more complicated.

After a brief pause, she nodded. "Then bring him in."

It was Dominic's first time setting foot inside Duskmoor Manor.

The moment he passed through the heavy gates reinforced with iron, he felt it, a pressure in the air that made him instinctively straighten his posture and slow his steps.

He moved carefully, almost cautiously, as though any misstep might carry consequences.

The deeper he went, the more unsettled he became.

By the time he reached the inner court, the sight of the guards posted along the passage, each one tall, broad, and utterly unreadable, made his stomach tighten.

He nearly turned back.

If even the outer grounds were guarded like this, what must it be like inside, where the Duke actually lived?

His imagination ran ahead of him. He pictured a dim chamber lit by flickering candles, Cassian seated in a high-backed chair, his face half lost in shadow as he looked down with cold indifference, like a judge passing sentence.

This was a mistake. I should not have come.

But before he could retreat, he was already being led inside. Then he stopped.

Right at the entrance to the inner courtyard, his eyes caught on something completely unexpected.

A neatly marked patch of turned earth.

He blinked, certain he had misseen it, then looked again.

No mistake. Along one side of the stone courtyard, someone had carefully set aside a small garden bed. Nothing had been planted yet, but the soil had been prepared with care.

A kitchen garden. Here?

In the private grounds of Duskmoor Manor?

The strangeness of it only made him more uneasy.

He was led further in, beneath a sunlit arcade.

There, a cushioned chaise had been set out, draped in fine woven fabric. A small table beside it held water, fresh fruit, and a few open books.

And reclining there was a woman.

Dominic didn't dare stare. He caught only fragments. The soft sheen of fine cloth, the gentle curve of her face, the quiet composure in the way she held herself.

She was reading, bathed in warm daylight, her presence refined but not distant. There was no sharp edge to her, no deliberate display of authority. Instead, she carried herself with a kind of effortless grace that made people instinctively lower their guard, while still knowing better than to cross a line.

She closed her book as she sensed him approach, her gaze settling on him with calm clarity.

"Dominic."