Awakening Love: Reborn to Be His Duchess Chapter 482: Holding the House

With every word Elowen spoke, the color drained further from Gerda's face until she stood there pale and at a loss for anything to say.

Elowen rested a hand lightly over her abdomen, her tone calm but unwavering. "As for the child, if something like this is enough to bring her down, then she was never meant to stand in this house to begin with."

Gerda looked at her as if seeing her for the first time, caught between shock and disbelief.

Edith, however, watched her with a different kind of focus now, her usual indifference giving way to quiet approval.

Elowen rose without hesitation, steady despite everything pressing in around her. "Mira, help me get ready. I'm going to Falconcrest Manor."

"Yes, Your Grace."

Mira quickly wiped her face and moved at once, her earlier panic replaced by urgency and purpose.

Seated before the mirror, Elowen studied her reflection.

Her face was composed, her features softened by pregnancy, but her eyes were far from calm. There was tension there, tightly held beneath the surface, along with something sharper that refused to give way.

She was unsettled. Anyone would be.

The man caught in this was her husband, and the child she carried was his.

But none of that could show. Not now.

Not when she was the one everyone else would look to. And not when she had already made her decision.

If something happens to him, I won't sit back and wait for someone else to fix it.

She remembered what Cassian had said before he left.

"The Duke of Duskmoor doesn't lose. Not where it counts."

He had seen the shape of this before it ever surfaced. He had prepared for it. And more importantly, he had trusted her to handle what came next.

"Ella, you're more than capable now. If I'm not there, you decide how this plays out."

They didn't need to say anything more than that.

All she had to do was keep the house steady and move when it mattered.

Right now, that meant Falconcrest Manor.

What Mira had brought back was too broad, too vague. She needed specifics. She needed to understand exactly how this accusation had been built and where it might come apart under pressure.

The weather had turned milder, and Elowen chose a structured gown in soft lavender with fine gold-thread detailing, a light cloak fastened neatly at her shoulders. Her hair was gathered and secured simply, without excess ornament, and her makeup was light but deliberate, enough to sharpen her presence.

When she stepped outside with Mira supporting her, the courtyard felt tight with unspoken tension.

Servants stood in small groups, careful about where they looked, careful about what they didn't say.

No one dared speak openly.

But the unease was written plainly enough.

Elowen walked forward and stopped beneath the covered gallery, where the daylight fell evenly across her.

Elowen stepped forward beneath the gallery, her voice carrying cleanly across the courtyard, steady and assured.

"You've all heard something by now," she said, her gaze moving over them. "About the Nordian prince, and about His Grace being held at the royal residence for questioning. But listen carefully, nothing has been decided. The matter is still under investigation."

She let that settle before continuing, her tone firm.

"Until His Majesty issues a formal decree, he is still the Duke of Duskmoor. I am still your duchess. And this is still Duskmoor Manor."

Her posture remained straight, composed, her presence anchoring the space around her.

"I am Elowen Hale of Hale Manor, and I hold my title by the King's own decree. As long as I stand here, this house stands with me. And as long as this house stands, you still have a place within it."

She paused briefly, then her voice softened, though it did not lose its weight.

"If any of you are afraid, if you're worried about being drawn into this, I won't force you to stay. I can see that you're released properly, or have word sent to the palace so arrangements can be made for you there instead."

A slight pause.

"But understand this, we're standing at a turning point. Walking away now doesn't guarantee safety. It may just put you in a worse position. So think carefully before you decide."

Her eyes swept across the courtyard once more.

"If anyone wishes to leave, step forward now and say so. You won't be stopped."

Silence settled over the courtyard, heavy but controlled.

Then the cook stepped out first, lowering herself into a deep, formal bow, her voice firm and unshaken.

"Your Grace, I don't understand court politics, but I know how we've been treated here. You and His Grace have always been fair to us. I came into this house, and I'm staying with it. If we make it through this, then we're fortunate. If we don't, I'm still not leaving."

That broke the stillness.

Others followed, stepping forward one after another, voices overlapping, plainspoken but sincere, each choosing to stand their ground.

From the back, Nikki called out, breath a little uneven but determined, "Take it out of my wages if you have to, just don't let anything happen to this house!"

The tension didn't disappear, but it shifted into something steadier, something that could hold.