CHAPTER 38: THE WIFE, THE MISTRESS, AND THE BED

Sir Aldric stood silently as Sylvia stepped closer to the door without a word, her fingers twitching at her sides. She needed to be ready. If Lorraine so much as whispered her name, she had to be there.

Cedric intercepted Zara before she could cause trouble, gently pulling her aside while the others ignored her entirely.

"She’s in there," he whispered, his voice tight.

Zara tilted her head, golden earrings catching the light. "Didn’t you tell me the wife doesn’t sleep in the husband’s chambers here?"

Aldric turned and shot Cedric a sharp glare.

Cedric cleared his throat and quickly muttered something to Zara. "Quiet. Not here."

But she wasn’t done. Zara leaned in, still murmuring—curious, sly, smug.

Sylvia turned just enough to glare at her, eyes sharp as blades, before returning her attention to the door. Her stomach twisted.

They could silence the mansion’s staff. But Zara? She was a storm in silk slippers, and she couldn’t be silenced. If even a whisper of this got out, if the prince so much as caught a fever tomorrow, the entire court would blame Lorraine.

He dragged her there. What was he thinking? Sylvia’s teeth clenched. What is he even doing with her in his bed?

Cedric, to his credit, managed to keep Zara mostly quiet, though it was like keeping a fox leashed with thread. He asked her to leave again, gently, but she didn’t budge. Her eyes sparkled with mischief, and she stood her ground, arms folded, waiting.

-----

Inside, Lorraine moved to reach for the robe draped nearby, but Leroy got to it first.

Her breath caught.

He turned toward her with that infuriating, lopsided grin playing on his lips. Mischief flickered in his sea-glass eyes, and she could practically hear the teasing in the silence.

She blinked at him.

What now?

The strange standoff lasted all of five seconds before he silently handed her the robe. His smirk didn’t disappear, if anything, it deepened.

Lorraine took it with trembling fingers, cheeks blazing.

He wasn’t scowling. He wasn’t flinching. He wasn’t even avoiding her eyes. In fact, he looked amused. And worse... completely unbothered.

Why? Why wasn’t he disgusted? Why wasn’t he making it awkward?

She couldn’t read him. Not at all.

Her hands clutched the robe tighter. She turned away, pulling it over her shoulders as modestly as she could.

Then, his fingers touched her wrist.

She froze.

He didn’t grip her. Didn’t tug. Just... rested his hand there. Warm. Light. Her heart stuttered painfully in her chest. She didn’t dare meet his eyes.

"Cedric!" he called sharply.

Then blinked.

Right. He wasn’t in a tent. They wouldn’t hear him here.

He reached for the string beside the bed and gave it a pull.

-----

Outside, the soft chime of the bell by the door made Sylvia snap to attention. She stepped forward immediately.

But Zara moved too fast. She lunged toward the door, almost triumphant.

Sylvia blocked her with her entire body. "Not your place," she hissed through her teeth.

Aldric gave Cedric a silent look: Handle her.

Cedric obeyed at once, grabbing Zara gently by the arm and pulling her back as Aldric stepped into the bedchamber.

He didn’t want Zara anywhere near Lorraine.

The room was dimly lit, but daylight streamed through the cracks of the heavy drapes. Aldric stepped beyond the wooden divider and froze.

The princess stood with her back to him, hastily wrapped in a robe, posture stiff with unease. Leroy sat on the edge of the bed, one hand holding hers as if she might vanish.

It didn’t look romantic. It looked... uncomfortable, like she was cornered.

Aldric’s gut twisted. Is he intimidating her?

Leroy didn’t seem surprised to see him. "Send her maid. She’ll get cleaned up here," he said casually, without so much as a glance.

Aldric’s fists clenched. Why? Was she hurt? Too shaken to walk back?

He said nothing; he just nodded and left.

Outside, he glanced at Sylvia. "The princess needs her clothes. She’s... staying in there." It came out more as a question than a statement.

Sylvia’s brows lifted slightly in understanding. Her gaze softened. Without a word, she turned and rushed to Lorraine’s chambers.

Aldric stared after her, still confused. But there had been no fear in her eyes. Just quiet recognition. So maybe... maybe he was overthinking it?

Before he could ponder more, Zara suddenly burst past them.

"Aye—Zara, wait—!"

Too late.

The door slammed behind her with a definitive click.

Inside, the second Aldric disappeared, Leroy moved. He pulled Lorraine into him without hesitation.

Her body collided with his chest with a soft thud. Again.

Why?! she wanted to scream.

The sun spilled golden light over the floor, casting warmth over his bare skin. His shirt hung open, and the faintest stubble had begun to shadow his jaw. His smirk hadn’t faded, and somehow, that was more dangerous than any scowl.

Her heart pounded like thunder in her ears.

He was handsome. Infuriatingly so. The kind of handsome that made you forget logic. That made you forget he was the same man who made you cry. That made you want to... stay.

She looked at him, and the feelings came rushing in.

Too fast.

Too strong.

Was this... love?

That aching tightness in her chest... the unbearable fluttering... the way her eyes kept drifting to his lips...

Then his voice broke through the silence. "What are you going to do about this?"

He pointed downward. Her gaze followed. And her entire soul exploded

into red-hot mortification.

Oh gods.

She signed frantically, "I’ll get you clothes."

Then froze. Right.

He couldn’t read sign. She stood up to go get them, but he grabbed her wrist and pulled. This time, she really crashed into him.

Her palm landed on his chest as she steadied herself on that solid, warm, maddening chest. Then he leaned in and nipped her earlobe.

She gasped, jerking back. He smiled wider.

He slid his hand over hers, pressing it flat against his chest.

"Not my clothes," he murmured, voice a whisper against her skin. "This."

Then he guided her hand downward.

Down...

Her breath caught. Her fingers brushed something hard. She got a good touch of whatever that was. Hot... Long... wide...

Her brows furrowed in confusion.

What was that? A rod? A hilt? Why was it... there...?

And then it hit her.

The hardness from this morning.That was this?

Oh?

Oh?!

Realization crashed into her like a tidal wave. Her eyes widened. Her mouth parted. She tried to snatch her hand away, but he held her fast. His jaw was tight, his breathing shallow.

Was he... enjoying this?

The teasing glint in his eye said yes.

Just then...

The door opened. His body tensed. His eyes shot toward the divider. She followed his gaze, and saw... her.

Zara.