CHAPTER 136: CHAPTER HUNDRED AND THIRTY SIX

Marissa looked down at the deed in her hands again, pretending to study the seal to hide her blush.

"You are impossible," she murmured.

"I try," Derek said.

He stood there, watching her like a lovesick fool, waiting for her to say yes to the walk.

Marissa nodded " Yes, I will. I’m sure it will be fun."

Derek shouted in his head. Yes! Another opportunity to be closer to her.

He stepped closer. He held out the fan to her.

"Here," he said. "Your fan."

Marissa reached out to take it. Her fingers brushed against his palm. She lingered there for a second, her touch light.

"Does your hand hurt?" she asked softly, looking at the slight scar on his palm from the aphrodisiac incident.

Derek looked down at their touching hands.

"Not anymore," he said.

He looked up at her. The air between them shifted again. It became charged, heavy with the memory of the night before.

"Marissa," he said, his voice dropping.

He wanted to kiss her. He hug her, to feel her in his arms, to have her call him Derek, his name not his title. He wanted to finish what they started in the tub. He made up his mind to confess his feelings at their stroll. He will tell her how he feels, what she makes him feel and how he wants to spend his lifetime with her.

Marissa saw the look in his eyes. She felt the pull.

But she remembered her love life in the past. She remembered the way Carlos treated her. She remembered that she had to be strong and leave love aside for now.

She took the fan and stepped back, creating a safe distance.

"I should inspect the property," she said, her voice breathless but firm. "If I am the owner, I need to see the renovations."

Derek nodded slowly. He understood. Not yet.

"Of course," he said. "I will give you the tour."

He gestured to the door.

"After you, Your Grace," he said with a playful bow.

Marissa laughed. She walked past him, her head high, the deed clutched in her hand.

~ ••••• ~

There was another balcony across theirs. It was a more private space in the Golden Swan, a place reserved for the highest nobility who wished to remain unseen.

The curtains were drawn almost shut, leaving only a sliver of space to look out.

Prince Liam sat in the shadows. He held a cup of tea in his hand, but he wasn’t drinking. He was watching.

Through the gap in the curtains, he had a clear view of the other private balcony. He had a clear view of his cousin, Derek, and the new Grand Duchess.

Liam’s face was cold. It was a beautiful face, sharp and symmetrical, but his eyes were empty of warmth.

He watched Derek smiling. He watched Derek leaning in close to his wife. He watched the relaxed posture, the open expression.

"He usually acts like a playboy," Liam said softly. His voice was smooth, like silk over stone.

Beside him stood Brooke, his aide. Brooke was a man of few words, dressed in dark clothes, his presence as silent as a shadow.

"Yes, Your Highness," Brooke said. "The reports say he is obsessed with women and wine. They say he is lazy."

Liam narrowed his eyes. He watched Derek laugh at something Marissa said.

"Look at him," Liam commanded.

Brooke looked.

"Does that look like a drunkard to you?" Liam asked. "Does that look like a man who is losing his mind to pleasure?"

Brooke hesitated. "He looks... happy, Your Highness. Distracted."

"No," Liam corrected him. "He looks focused."

Liam set his tea cup down. It made a sharp clink on the table.

"I have known Derek since we were children," Liam said. "He was always the strong one. The serious one. The soldier. Then, suddenly, he became this... fool. This ’skiver’."

Liam stood up and walked to the gap in the curtains. He stared at Derek.

"Who knows if he is truly a skiver," Liam whispered, his eyes dark with suspicion. "Or if he is pretending. If he is wearing a mask to hide his true intentions."

He thought about Commander Leon. He thought about the ambush. He thought about the spy in the Golden Swan who had been silenced before he could talk.

Derek was always one step ahead. Or one step behind, cleaning up the mess.

"If he is pretending," Liam said, his voice tightening, "then he is dangerous. A man who can play the fool for years while building an army... that is a man I cannot trust."

He watched Marissa. He saw the way she handed the parchment to Derek, the way they stood together.

"And his wife," Liam mused. "She is not a simple country girl either. She handled the guards at the raid and she handles him."

He turned away from the window. He had seen enough. He needed to know the truth. He needed to break the mask and see what was underneath.

He turned to Brooke.

"Summon him here," Liam ordered. His voice was final.

Brooke bowed. "Here, Your Highness?"

"Yes," Liam said. "Right now. While he is happy. While his guard is down."

Liam walked back to the table. He picked up a small silver knife and began to peel an apple. He did it with slow, precise cuts.

"Tell him the Crown Prince invites his dear cousin for a cup of tea," Liam said, a cold smile touching his lips. "Tell him it is urgent."

He sliced a piece of apple and held it up to the light.

"I will test him myself," Liam said. "I will look him in the eye. And if I see even a flicker of the soldier inside that fool... I will know what to do."

Brooke nodded. "At once, Your Highness."

Brooke turned and left the room, heading down the stairs to intercept the couple.

Liam ate the apple slice. He chewed slowly.

"Let us see, Derek," Liam whispered to the empty room. "Let us see how good your acting really is."