Adanna and Serena hurried back to their chambers, their minds racing after the shocking events that had just unfolded. The moment the door closed behind them, Serena turned toward Adanna, her eyes wide with astonishment. "What just happened?" she whispered, as if the walls themselves could carry the weight of their words.
Adanna shook her head, still replaying the scene in her mind—the Duke's lost memory, his refusal to recognize his wife, and the mysterious woman, Olimpia, who seemed to have him under her spell. "I am not sure," she admitted. "But something is not right. The Duke's return... it is too convenient, do you not think?"
Serena frowned, her thoughts clearly elsewhere. "I suppose Leonardo and Alejandro's mission to find the missing Duke is over now," she said, more to herself than to Adanna.
Adanna nodded but remained quiet, her brow furrowed as another thought took hold. "But what about the threats?" she asked. "His return does not excuse the threats that have been happening. Someone is still trying to cause harm, and we do not know why."
Serena looked at her, worry flashing in her eyes. "Do you think it is connected? The Duke's disappearance and the threats?"
Adanna bit her lip, thinking hard. "It has to be. There is no way these events are unrelated. Something larger is at play, and I intend to find out what it is."
Serena shifted in her chair, concern evident on her face. "What are you planning to do?"
Adanna stood up, determination tightening her features. "I am going back to the dining room. Maybe whoever is behind the threats left some kind of clue. It is worth investigating."
Serena's eyes widened. "Are you serious? That could be dangerous, Adanna. Whoever is behind this has already proven they can get close without being noticed."
"I know," Adanna replied, pulling her shawl around her shoulders, "but we cannot just sit here and do nothing. I will be careful, I promise."
Serena sighed, biting her lip. "Just... be careful. If anything feels wrong, come straight back."
"I will," Adanna reassured her before slipping out of the room.
As she moved through the dimly lit corridors of the estate, her footsteps were light and quick. The silence that filled the hallways felt oppressive, amplifying her heartbeat as she made her way back toward the dining room. Her mind buzzed with questions. Who was Olimpia, really? Why didn't the Duke remember anyone, not even his own wife? And how could this all be connected to the threats?
Lost in her thoughts, she passed by a half-open door, its light casting an eerie glow into the hallway. The soft murmur of voices reached her ears, and she instinctively slowed down, pressing herself against the wall to listen. The conversation was in Spanish, a language she wasn't fluent in, but the tone of the voices caught her attention immediately.
"Padre... estás de vuelta," said a man's voice, filled with a mixture of disbelief and emotion. (Father... you're back)
"¿Quién eres?" came a colder, more distant voice. Adanna's stomach lurched—she recognized that voice. It was Duke Ricardo's.(Who are you?)
Then the familiar voice of the duchess, "Tu padre no parece recordarnos." (Your father doesn't seem to remember us.)
Adanna's heart skipped a beat. The duke was in there, the duke they were all competing for his hand in marriage was there...a man they had never seen before the ball. She felt a shiver run down her spine, realizing this was her chance to meet the duke but before she could formulate a plan, the sound of footsteps approached and she had to make a hasty retreat.
Adanna ran, to continue her journey to the dining room, her mind racing with thoughts of the Duke's sudden reappearance and his strange behavior. She pushed open the heavy double doors and stepped inside, the room a stark contrast to the chaos that had been there moments ago. The once crowded space was now empty, the only evidence of the disturbance being the shattered vase and the lingering scent of the now dead flowers.
Her eyes scanned the room, searching for any clue that might have been overlooked in the panic. But the marble floor was spotless, and the long dining table gleamed under the chandeliers, as if the scene of fear and confusion had never occurred. The only sound was the distant echo of her footsteps and the occasional creak of the ancient floorboards beneath her feet.
Defeated, she turned to leave, feeling the weight of the mystery pressing down on her shoulders. She decided to use this opportunity to get fresh air and clear her thoughts, heading towards the garden. The cool evening breeze was a welcome reprieve from the stifling tension of the castle, and she walked along the stone path, her thoughts swirling like the leaves at her feet.
As she rounded the corner, she saw a solitary figure sitting on a bench. The Duchess. Camila's usually stoic face was etched with lines of sadness and worry, and she looked lost in thought. Adanna's steps slowed, not sure if she should interrupt. But the Duchess looked up and caught her eye, and with a sigh, she approached, hoping to offer some comfort.
"Your Grace," Adanna said softly as she approached the bench where Duchess Camila sat, her eyes red and puffy. The Duchess turned her head slightly and, upon seeing Adanna, straightened her back even more. Her face was a careful mask of control, but the tension in her eyes gave her away.
"Lady Adanna," the Duchess greeted her, her voice firm but lacking the usual warmth. "What brings you here?"
Adanna hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to respond. The Duchess was a figure of authority and strength, but tonight she seemed... human...I mean she was a human "I—uh, I was just... I mean, I thought I should get some air. And then I saw you sitting here, and... well... are you quite alright?"
She inwardly winced at her own words. Why did she always manage to make things worse when she was trying to help?
The Duchess raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by Adanna's rambling. "I assure you, I am quite alright," she said, her voice cool and composed, but her lips quirked slightly as if suppressing a smile.
Adanna didn't know why, but that small gesture of amusement encouraged her to keep talking. "I—well, of course, you are. I just... I mean, it must be a lot, you know? With the Duke returning, and everything... it is just... I do not know how I would handle something like that." She trailed off, feeling silly for babbling.
To her surprise, the Duchess let out a soft laugh, the sound light and almost musical. It was the first time Adanna had heard her laugh, and for a brief moment, the composed mask the Duchess always wore seemed to slip.
"You do ramble, do you not?" the Duchess said, shaking her head, though the smile remained on her lips. "But I appreciate your concern."
Adanna flushed, suddenly feeling self-conscious. She hadn't meant to overstep, but now that the Duchess had softened a little, she felt compelled to offer something more meaningful. "I... I know what it is like to lose someone important," she said, her voice quiet.
The Duchess's smile faded, and she looked at Adanna with curiosity, her sharp eyes now softening slightly. "Is that so?" she asked, her tone more genuine than it had been moments ago.
Adanna nodded, her gaze dropping to the ground. "Yes... I lost my mother when I was nine. It was... it was difficult for all of us."
The Duchess remained silent, watching her closely. Adanna hadn't planned on sharing this, but the words seemed to spill out of her as if some invisible force was urging her to continue.
"My eldest sister, Nia, she was only fifteen at the time, but she took on the role of 'mother' for us. Father... well, he was too heartbroken to really be a parent for a while. He loved our mother deeply—so deeply that we sometimes thought he loved her more than us." Adanna let out a small laugh, shaking her head. "He would bring her flowers every night—her favorite ones—and sometimes we would tease him about it, but we all knew how much he adored her."
The Duchess's eyes softened further as she listened, her regal demeanor relaxing more than Adanna had ever seen before.
"It took him a few years to heal," Adanna continued, "but eventually, he started to step back into his role as our father. But even then, he depended on Nia for everything. She had become the glue that held us together."
Adanna paused, her fingers absently tracing the edge of the stone bench. "One thing I regret, though, is not spending more time with my mother when I had the chance. I was always climbing trees, tending to the gardens—anything to avoid sitting still. I remember once she offered to teach me embroidery, but I refused. I was too restless. And now... now I wish I had taken that time with her."
For a moment, the two women sat in silence, the quiet of the garden wrapping around them like a soft blanket. Then, Adanna looked up, her eyes meeting the Duchess's. "I know it is hard," she said gently, "but I have heard about how much you and the Duke respected each other. He will remember you, Your Grace. I am sure of it."
The Duchess didn't respond immediately. She simply stared at Adanna, her eyes searching her face as if looking for some hidden truth. After a long moment, a small smile crept onto the Duchess's lips, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. "Thank you for your kind words, Lady Adanna," she said softly. "They are appreciated more than you know."
Adanna felt a twinge of guilt. She had meant to offer comfort, but she realized she might have overstepped. "I am sorry if I spoke out of turn," she said quickly, lowering her head. "I did not mean to—"
"It is fine," the Duchess interrupted, her voice kind but firm. "In fact... I appreciate your honesty." She paused, her gaze drifting toward the roses in front of them. "The Duke and I... we did respect each other. But now... I do not know what to think."
Adanna nodded, unsure of what else to say. She could see the pain flickering in the Duchess's eyes, even though she tried to hide it behind her usual cool composure.
"Just remember," Adanna said softly, "he will remember you. And when he does, everything will be as it should be."
The Duchess looked at her for a long moment, then gave a small, almost imperceptible nod. "Thank you, Lady Adanna."
With that, Adanna stood up, sensing it was time to leave the Duchess to her thoughts. As she walked away, she couldn't help but feel a strange sense of connection to the woman she had always seen as distant and untouchable. Beneath the layers of regal grace and authority, the Duchess was just as human as anyone else, carrying her own grief and uncertainties.
And for the first time, Adanna realized how much strength it took to keep that mask in place.
The morning sun had barely risen when when Adanna and Serena were startled awake by the sound of shouting and thudding footsteps. Adanna groggily pushed herself up from the bed, her eyes squinting in the soft light filtering through the curtains. "What is that noise?" she muttered, rubbing her eyes.
Serena was already halfway out of bed, her brows furrowed with concern. "I am not sure, but it sounds like something serious is happening."
They both threw on their robes and rushed to the door. As they stepped out of their chambers, they were met with the sight of the other ladies of the estate gathered on the grand staircase, all of them staring intently toward the parlor below.
"What is going on?" Adanna whispered as they joined the crowd of onlookers at the top of the stairs.
"It is the duke's father, Duke Ricardo," Lady Midori murmured from behind them, her voice tight with anxiety.
Serena and Adanna looked down the stairs, their eyes widening as they saw Duke Ricardo—was standing in the middle of the parlor, his face pale and drawn with fear. His eyes were wide, darting around the room as if he were being cornered by unseen enemies. His voice was hoarse and filled with panic as he yelled, "Stay back! I do not know you—stay away from me!"
The Duchess stood a few feet away from him, her usual poise replaced with a look of desperation. "Ricardo, please... it is me, Camila, your wife. No one here will harm you, I promise. Just... just breathe."
But the Duke only backed away further, his hands trembling. "Wife? I have no wife! I don't know any of you! Guards—keep them away from me!"
Adanna's heart clenched as she watched the scene. The Duke's panic was palpable, and it was clear he was overwhelmed, completely unaware of where he was or who he was with. Around her, the other ladies murmured in confusion, unsure of what to make of the Duke's erratic behavior.
Suddenly, the sound of hurried footsteps filled the air, and Adanna turned just in time to see the young woman from the previous day—Olimpia—rush into the parlor. She moved with purpose, her red hair flowing behind her as she approached the Duke. Without hesitation, Olimpia reached for the Duke, her hand gentle but firm on his arm. "Ricardo, it's me," she said softly, her voice soothing. "You're safe. I'm here."
The effect was immediate. The Duke stopped shouting, his body visibly relaxing under Olimpia's touch. His breathing slowed, and the wild look in his eyes began to fade as he focused on her. "Olimpia..." he muttered, his voice shaky but calmer. "Olimpia..."
Everyone in the room watched in stunned silence as the scene unfolded. The Duchess's face was a mask of shock and pain, her eyes never leaving her husband's as she took a step back, allowing the mysterious Olimpia to approach him. It was clear that there was a bond between the two—a bond that seemed stronger than the one he shared with his own wife.
Adanna glanced at Serena, who looked just as shocked as she was. How had Olimpia managed to calm him so easily when even the Duchess had struggled? The Duchess clenched her fists at her side, as she watched her husband being calmed by another woman. Despite her poised exterior, it was clear that the Duchess was shaken.
After a long moment, the Duke finally sat down on one of the parlor chairs, his body sagging with exhaustion. Olimpia remained by his side, her hand still resting on his arm as if to ensure he didn't panic again.
The tension in the room was thick as the Duchess and Olimpia finally locked eyes. There was no mistaking the hostility in the air.
"Lady...Olimpia...tha...gracias," Duchess Camila finally managed to speak, her voice tight with barely contained anger. The room was still, the only sound the Duke's uneven breaths.
Olimpia looked up, meeting the Duchess's gaze with a serene smile. "Your grace," she began, her voice as smooth as silk, "I understand how troubling this situation is for all of us, especially for your husband. But, if I may be so bold, I believe I can help."
"How?" The Duchess's question was cold, each syllable a knife cutting through the thick tension.
Olimpia's smile didn't waver. "I will become Ricardo's personal caregiver. I can help him regain his memories and find peace here," she offered, her voice filled with a confidence that seemed almost eerie given the circumstances. "But in return, I wish to participate in the competition for the hand of your son...The Duke."