Fated Eclipse: The Illegitimate Princess And Her Alpha Suitors

Chapter 41: Of Stubborn Kindness and Unwelcome Generosity

Lyria’s POV

For several long seconds, neither of the men spoke.

The Duke still looked far too pleased with himself.

Lord Hawthorne, however, seemed less amused.

He frowned faintly and turned his attention toward the Duke.

”Your Grace,” he said thoughtfully, ”is it truly possible for hunger to alter one’s voice?”

The Duke let out another quiet laugh.

”Well,” he replied lightly, ”we appear to be witnessing the phenomenon directly before us.”

His tone carried that same easy amusement that had not left him since my stomach had betrayed me.

”I must confess,” he continued, ”I find it rather surprising myself.”

His eyes flicked briefly toward me again.

”I had no idea hunger could produce such... interesting vocal conditions,” he said.

My face burned hotter at his words.

The Duke’s gaze settled on me again, bright with curiosity.

”Tell me something,” he said. ”Have you perhaps not eaten anything today?”

”I-I have e-eaten, Your Grace,” I replied immediately.

He looked unconvinced.

”If that were the case,” he said mildly, ”your stomach would not have protested so loudly just now.”

”I-It was merely reminding me to eat a-again later,” I said quickly.

The Duke tilted his head.

”Doesn’t that simply mean you have not eaten anything for hours?” he asked me. ”I daresay you have had nothing to eat today.”

”I h-have,” I insisted.

Before the Duke could respond again, Lord Hawthorne moved.

I heard the quiet shift of his boots on the floor as he stepped closer.

Instinctively, I straightened slightly, though my gaze remained lowered.

There was a faint rustle of cloth.

From the inside pocket of his coat, the Earl withdrew a neatly folded square of white linen.

He unfolded it with calm, deliberate movements.

My eyes fell upon what lay inside before I could stop myself.

Small cakes rested upon the linen. Two pale sponge fingers dusted lightly with sugar. A small round tart filled with dark currant preserve. And beside them, several neat little biscuits—golden and crumbly.

Seed cakes.

My mouth watered instantly.

They were the sort of refreshments served in drawing rooms and parlours during afternoon calls.

The sort placed beside porcelain teacups while ladies spoke politely of weather and music.

The sort that servants carried on trays.

Not the sort servants—people like me—ever got the opportunity to taste.

I tore my eyes away at once.

”Here,” Lord Hawthorne said simply, holding the linen towards me. ”You can have this.”

”Why, do tell, do you have snacks with you?” the Duke asked him. ”Do you perhaps just keep them so you can save hungry damsels?”

Lord Hawthorne blushed deeply at his words.

”W-what? I would never. I just... I like snacks, so I carry some with me.”

”Hm,” the Duke said. ”I never would have expected you to have a sweet tooth.”

The Earl did not reply. Instead, he gestured toward the snacks he held out.

I shook my head immediately and bowed deeply.

”I a-appreciate your k-kindness, my lord,” I said quickly, ”and I am g-g-grateful for your concern, but I assure you that I am n-not hungry.”

Lord Hawthorne made a soft sound of disbelief in the back of his throat.

Before I could react, he took my hand.

The contact startled me so badly that I froze.

His gloved fingers closed gently around my palm and turned it upward. Then he placed the folded linen bundle into it.

”Take it,” he said again.

His tone was calm, but it held quiet insistence.

”My sisters would be quite disappointed in me,” he added mildly, ”if I ignored a woman who was clearly in need of food.”

I blinked in shock.

I had no idea he had siblings.

I bowed deeply again.

”T-thank you, my lord,” I said quietly.

The linen felt warm and precious in my hand.

I meant to leave immediately.

But just as I turned—

”You should eat it here.”

The Duke’s voice stopped me in my steps.

Slowly, I turned back.

Lord Hawthorne had already stepped away again, his arms folding loosely across his chest as he regarded me with mild curiosity.

The Duke stood watching me.

I bowed slightly.

”I h-have already t-thanked you both,” I said carefully. ”I s-shall eat it shortly.”

”I suspect you will not,” the Duke replied.

His tone remained pleasant.

”Your Grace?” I asked in shock.

”For reasons I cannot quite explain,” he continued lightly, ”I have the distinct impression that you intend to thank us politely... walk away... and later have no chance to taste the delicacies Hawthorne has given you.”

”What?”

He gestured lightly toward the linen in my hand.

”You should eat it here in our presence, preferably,” he said.

I stiffened.

”That w-would not be p-proper, Your Grace.”

”Oh?”

”S-servants do not eat in the presence of their m-masters.”

The Duke tilted his head again.

”But you are not my servant.”

The simple statement caught me off guard.

”I b-beg your pardon?”

”You are not in my household,” he continued easily. ”Therefore, that particular rule does not apply.”

I did not know how to respond to that.

The Duke’s smile remained faint but steady.

”And I must confess,” he added, ”I am quite curious to see whether your mysterious illness improves once you have eaten.”

Lord Hawthorne spoke then, his voice calmer and less amused than the Duke’s.

”You need not eat all of it,” he said. ”You can take one or two. You seem like someone busy, and I doubt if you leave here you will have the chance to eat it.”

I hesitated.

”I a-assure you, I will eat it,” I said.

Lord Hawthorne regarded me for a moment.

Then he shook his head faintly.

”I believe His Grace simply wishes to be certain of it.”

The Duke nodded in cheerful agreement.

”Precisely,” he said. ”I cannot simply leave a pretty damsel—who is also sick with a mysterious illness we cannot quite name, though I suspect it is simply hunger—without ensuring she has taken something to appease that growling stomach.”

My fingers tightened around the linen.

This was absurd.

Entirely absurd.

Two noblemen—one a duke, the other an earl—standing in a stable doorway while insisting that a servant girl eat a piece of cake.

If any of the other workers saw this, I could only imagine what they would tell Jacinta. It would be better if I could finish the work she assigned me in peace instead of this.

I bowed again.

”Y-you are both exceedingly g-generous,” I said quietly. ”A-and I a-appreciate your k-kindness...”

”If you do,” the Duke said, ”then take a bite. You can finish at least one snack in our presence.”