Awakening Love: Reborn to Be His Duchess Chapter 487: Storm at the Bookshop

As Elowen followed the thread of it further, her thinking sharpened into something clean and decisive, each step leading naturally to the next. "We start with the arrowheads. Check the manor's armory records and any smiths who supply them. Find out exactly who could have handled that kind of work, then trace it back. If we follow it far enough, we'll find proof that clears His Grace."

There was another gap in the matter, one that involved Dominic, the Deputy of the King's Works.

Elowen had learned that from Scarlet, but with Piers and Sylvia present, she chose not to bring it up yet.

Sylvia stood to the side, watching her closely, something in her expression quietly shifting.

She had once thought her sister-in-law gentle to a fault, even a little naïve. Within the walls of a household, their mother would never have been able to outmaneuver her, that much was obvious.

But this was different.

Elowen handled matters that brushed against court and law with the same steady ease, laying everything out as though she had done it a hundred times before.

Sylvia felt something tighten in her chest.

She wanted to become someone like that.

"If there's anything you need from me," Piers said, his tone firm, "just tell me. I'll take care of it."

Elowen inclined her head. "I appreciate that."

With the matter settled for now, she rose and took her leave.

After leaving Falconcrest Manor, Elowen had the carriage turn toward Cloudmere Lane.

Her aunt was there, and after hearing what had happened at Duskmoor Manor, she would surely be worried.

And beyond that, the bookshop's affairs had always been handled through Anson and Finn. With trouble breaking out now, Finn was unlikely to be at ease, and she wanted to see it firsthand.

They had not yet reached the shop when the carriage slowed, then stopped.

Noise carried through the street, loud and restless.

Mira leaned closer to the door. "Your Grace, something's going on ahead."

Elowen pushed the carriage door open just enough to look out.

A crowd had gathered.

Right in front of Finn's shop.

With the door open, the voices became clearer, sharper.

"Everyone knows this shop answers to Duskmoor Manor. People kept quiet before, but now the Duke's been accused of killing a Nordian envoy and taken into custody. Why is this place still allowed to operate?"

"All they sell are scandalous stories, filling young people's heads with foolish ideas about love and defiance."

"That's right. My daughter used to listen to everything we said. She's only fifteen, and after reading that Ode to Springlight, she refuses the match we arranged. Now she says she wants a post in the royal household."

"Shut it down. This shop has no business staying open."

Elowen's gaze cooled.

This was not just outrage.

It was targeted.

Whether these people were truly offended, or simply pushed forward by someone else looking to weaken Duskmoor Manor while it was already under pressure, that was not yet clear.

A sudden crash rang out.

Wood splintered.

The noise surged all at once.

Through the shifting crowd, Elowen saw a heavy table at the entrance overturned and smashed onto the ground. Books scattered across the street, loose pages skidding, a jar of ink shattered and spreading dark stains over the stones.

"My books. My table!"

Finn shouted as he lunged at the man who had done it, a thickset brute. The two of them collided and grappled, stumbling over the wreckage.

Elowen's expression tightened slightly. "Anson."

"Your Grace." He stepped forward immediately.

Her gaze stayed fixed ahead. "Clear the way. We're going in."

"At once."

Though her carriage was modest, Cassian had long since arranged for her to travel under quiet protection. The men at her side were chosen from the ranks, broad-shouldered and disciplined, their presence alone enough to shift the mood of a crowd.

At the order, several moved forward together, cutting through the gathering with controlled force, pressing people aside until a clear path opened.

The carriage rolled ahead and stopped directly in front of the shop, beside the scattered books and broken wood.

The street fell still.

The driver set the step in place.

Under a dozen watchful eyes, Elowen took Mira's hand and stepped down.

The man who had overturned the table was already restrained, his arms locked tight by two guards as he struggled and glared, breath heavy.

Elowen looked at him, her voice calm, steady, and impossible to ignore. "You're going to pay for what you broke."

The man jerked against the hold, his voice rising. "Why should I? This place sells garbage that twists people's heads. Smashing it was doing everyone a favor."

Elowen lifted her voice just enough to carry across the crowd. "Because that's how the law works. Any shop that prints or sells books in Avenlor must be registered and licensed through the city office. This one is. It's legal, properly recorded, and allowed to operate."

She held his gaze without wavering. "No order has been given to shut it down. No court has ruled these books forbidden. So tell me, who decided you get to enforce the law in the King's place?"

The man faltered, his bluster slipping.