“Oh. You’re the Duke’s son? You look like you have a stick up your ass.”
Aeliana blinked.
Wait.
What?
She stared at her father, half expecting him to say he was joking.
But Thaddeus remained perfectly serious.
Aeliana’s lips parted, then shut.
Slowly—slowly—her expression shifted into something incredulous.
Her mother had said that to the heir of the Duchy? On their first meeting?
No wonder her father had fallen for her.
Aeliana bit back an unexpected, almost bewildered laugh, forcing her lips into a thin line.
She should have known.
She should have known.
This was the woman who had raised her, after all.
Thaddeus shook his head slightly, his eyes still lost in memory.
“I had never met a woman like her before,” he admitted, almost grudgingly. “She didn’t care who I was. She wasn’t impressed by my title, wasn’t interested in playing the usual games. She spoke to me as if I was just another man.”
His fingers tapped lightly against the armrest of his chair.
“And that,” he murmured, “was the beginning.”
Thaddeus exhaled through his nose, shaking his head slightly, as if still begrudgingly baffled by the memory.
“At the time, I didn’t take it well,” he admitted, his voice low. “I was raised on tradition, on honor, on the ways of nobility and war. The idea that some… no-status woman could speak to me like that—”
A muscle in his jaw twitched.
“I was offended.”
Aeliana could already picture it.
Her father—young, arrogant, trained since childhood to be the perfect heir, used to respect and reverence—standing stiff and indignant as her mother, with all the grace of a hurricane, insulted him to his face.
Aeliana pressed her lips together, trying—trying—to suppress the laugh bubbling in her throat.
But Thaddeus wasn’t done.
“And then,” he muttered, rubbing his temple, “she did something worse.”
Aeliana raised an eyebrow. “Worse than calling you stiff?”
Thaddeus let out a short, humorless chuckle.
“She challenged me to a fight.”
Aeliana blinked.
What?
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She straightened slightly, her interest piqued. “She what?”
“She called it ‘solving things the soldier’s way,'” he muttered. “Said that if I had a problem with her words, I should prove myself on the training field. Settle it like men do.”
Aeliana stared.
Her mother had… challenged the future Duke of Thaddeus to a duel?
That was insane.
That was really insane.
“And you actually agreed?” Aeliana asked, incredulous.
Thaddeus’ expression darkened slightly. “She mocked me, Aeliana,” he muttered, his tone heavy with the memory. “Said that if I refused, then I was admitting I couldn’t handle being talked down to by a woman.”
Aeliana couldn’t help it.
A small laugh escaped her.
“That sounds exactly like her.”
Thaddeus gave her a dry look, but she could see the flicker of reluctant amusement in his eyes.
“It was a matter of pride,” he grumbled. “I was a trained warrior. A man who had been raised for battle. I thought, how hard could it be?”
Aeliana smirked. “And?”
“And,” he exhaled slowly, “I almost lost.”
Silence.
Aeliana’s smirk froze.
“…What?”
Thaddeus looked vaguely insulted at having to repeat it. “I almost lost.”
Aeliana gawked at him. “But—you’re you. How—?”
His expression turned deeply unamused.
“Because,” he muttered, “the woman fought dirty.”
A beat.
Aeliana blinked.
Then—
She snorted.
Thaddeus sighed.
Her mother.
Her mother.
Of course she did.
Aeliana could already imagine it—the grand, noble heir of the Duchy, poised and trained for honorable combat, stepping onto the training field, only for her mother to immediately throw sand in his face.
Thaddeus pinched the bridge of his nose, as if the memory physically pained him.
“She fought dirty,” he muttered. “Kicked my shin, threw sand in my eyes, tripped me, used every underhanded trick she could think of.”
He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “And then, when I called her out on it, she just grinned and said—”
His voice shifted, mimicking a higher, confident lilt—
‘So what? As a woman, I may lack the body strength, but you men are simple. It’s easy to predict what your pride allows you to do.’
Aeliana sucked in a sharp breath, pressing her hand over her mouth, her shoulders shaking with barely contained laughter.
“Oh gods,” she wheezed. “Oh gods.”
Thaddeus did not look amused.
Aeliana, however, was struggling.
Her mother had scammed her father in a duel.
And he fell for it.
No wonder he had fallen for her.
“Didn’t you look down on me because I’m a woman?” Thaddeus quoted bitterly. “She knew exactly how I would react. And I—”
He stopped himself, shaking his head.
“I lost my temper,” he admitted, voice lower. “I had never fought someone like her before. Someone who wasn’t trying to impress me. Someone who didn’t care about fairness or image. Someone who just wanted to win.”
His fingers tapped lightly against the armrest again, slower this time.
“And the worst part?” His lips pressed into a thin line. “She was proud of it. Didn’t even try to act ashamed.”
Aeliana inhaled deeply, trying—trying—to compose herself.
But gods—
This was too much.
This entire story was too much.
“Let me get this straight,” Aeliana managed, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. “Mother insulted you, challenged you to a fight, fought dirty, almost beat you, and then rubbed it in your face?”
Thaddeus’ golden eyes flickered toward her, expression unreadable.
“Yes.”
Aeliana paused.
Aeliana’s smile softened.
It had been a while since she had truly smiled. Since she had tried to smile.
And yet, here she was.
She hadn’t expected this conversation to bring out something warm—something almost lighthearted. But as she sat there, listening to her father speak of a woman she had only ever been allowed to remember in silence, something eased inside her.
She could see it so clearly.
Her mother.
The woman who had raised her with laughter, with sharp words, with hands that were always firm but never cruel. The woman who had never hesitated to bend the rules if bending them was more convenient than obeying them.
Gentle—but like a storm when she was angry.
Not like the noblewomen of the court, who draped themselves in silk and spoke softly while cutting each other down with honey-laced words. No—her mother was different.
She was genuine.
She was honest.
And she stood behind her choices.
Even when those choices made no sense.
Even when they defied everything expected of her.
‘So this is the kind of woman she was…’
Aeliana exhaled slowly, the warmth in her chest settling into something steady, something real.
And then—
“Now,” Thaddeus murmured, breaking the silence, “you may be wondering why I told you that story.”
Aeliana’s eyes flickered back to him, sharp and expectant.
Thaddeus studied her for a long moment. Then—
“You are free to do whatever you want with him.”
Aeliana’s entire body went still.
“…What?”
Thaddeus’ golden eyes met hers, unwavering.
“I saw your gaze,” he said simply. “And I know that…” His voice lowered slightly, quieter, but no less firm.
“Your mother was the same.”
Aeliana inhaled sharply.
A sudden, sharp pang shot through her chest—not pain, but something else.
Aeliana’s breath hitched.
She wasn’t sure what stunned her more—his words, or the ease with which he had spoken them.
She stared at her father, searching his face for any hint of deception, any sign that this was some kind of test. But no—his golden eyes remained steady, unreadable as ever, but not cold.
Not dismissive.
Not commanding.
Just… stating a fact.
She swallowed hard, forcing herself to find her voice.
“What about the marriage?”
It was the obvious question. The unavoidable one.
Her engagement.
The man she had been promised to—an arrangement made for the sake of alliances, a deal forged long before she had a say in it.
Aeliana had never met him. Never even seen him. Though she knew he was quite a bit of a playboy, and he was an indecent man.
And to be honest… she had always assumed that he hadn’t cared much either.
Who would want a sickly wife? A dying noblewoman who never showed her face, whose existence was little more than a whispered footnote in the grander schemes of court politics?
Even as a Duke’s daughter, she had been more burden than prize.
Until now.
Thaddeus met her gaze. “I will annul that engagement.”
Aeliana stiffened.
“…Why?”
Her father exhaled slowly, his fingers pressing together in thought before he spoke.
“Now that you are no longer ill,” he said, “you deserve someone better.”
Aeliana’s lips parted. A strange, almost hollow laugh slipped from them. “That means Lucavion deserves me?”
There was something bitterly amusing about it.
Thaddeus’ expression didn’t change. “He doesn’t deserve you.”
Aeliana blinked.
“But,” Thaddeus continued, “if you want him, then I will not speak on the matter.”
Silence.
Aeliana’s fingers curled into fists against her lap.
‘If you want him.’
“I don’t want him.”