Reborn: The Duke’s Obsession

"Today is your last official day at the Royal Colors Dye Establishment, Your Grace." Aiden said, his voice a mixture of professional formality and a hint of sadness. He stood in front of Eric's large, familiar desk in the study, his hands clasped respectfully behind his back.

Eric groaned, not looking up from the final ledger he was signing. "Don't make me remember, Aiden," he said, his own voice heavy with a feeling of deep reluctance. "I am about to put this entire company, my life's work, into your care. The thought alone is giving me a headache."

Aiden smiled, a genuine, confident expression. "And as I have promised you before, I will not let you down, Your Grace. I will protect it with my life."

Eric nodded, finally set the pen down and leaned back in his chair, rubbing his tired eyes. He nodded, a gesture of trust. "I know you will."

"On that note," Aiden said, his tone shifting to something lighter. "I was thinking that we should have a big farewell for you tonight. A proper send-off."

Eric's eyes opened. He looked at his trusted aide, his expression one of pure confusion. "What? A farewell? Who is having a farewell?"

"We are. For you," Aiden replied smoothly. "I already found the perfect place, arranged everything. And Her Grace approves."

Eric sat up straight. The confusion on his face deepened. "My wife? Delia knows about this?"

Aiden nodded, his smile widening. He was clearly enjoying his master's surprise.

Eric stared at him, a dozen questions in his eyes. He finally settled on the most important one. "Where?"

Aiden's smile was his only answer.

~ ••••• ~

"Cheers!"

The sound of glasses clinking together echoed in the warm, comfortable drawing room of Eric's private residence. It turned out that the "perfect place" Aiden had found was simply their own home.

Amber, Aiden, and a very happy-looking Owen sat with Delia, their faces glowing in the soft lamplight. Aiden and Amber drank their wine, while Delia carefully poured Owen a tall glass of freshly squeezed fruit juice. He took the glass with both hands, giving her a shy, grateful look. A fire crackled in the hearth, casting a warm glow on the faces of the small group gathered there.

Eric was in the kitchen, the delicious smell of roasting herbs and savory meat drifted in from the kitchen filling the entire house. Delia had originally planned to do the cooking that night, as it was a party to celebrate Eric, but he had insisted on doing it himself, telling her that her only job for the evening was to sit and be tending to their guests.

Amber spoke to Delia, a wide, happy smile on her face. "Delia, I do hope we are not imposing. Are we?" she asked.

Delia smiled back, her own heart full of a simple, profound happiness. "No, of course not. You have all been by our side through everything. I should have been the one to set something like this up for all of you much sooner."

"I know, right?" Amber spoke, her voice now a little higher, a little louder, so that Eric could hear her from the kitchen. "We all worked so very hard handling that terrible incident with the pamphlets." She paused, then added with a dramatic sigh, "And that poor man is still pouting about having to go back to the family business."

Delia chuckled at her playful teasing.

"And do you know," Amber continued, "that I have never once in my entire life tasted my own brother's food? I finally get to try his famous cooking, and it is all because of you, Delia."

Delia's cheeks colored slightly at the indirect compliment. She felt a warmth spread through her chest that had nothing to do with the fire.

Aiden decided to join in on the teasing. He called out in a loud, playful voice, "Hello, Your Grace! Are you working in there? We are waiting on our food! Will we have it by tomorrow morning?" He laughed, leaning back into the sofa.

Just then, Eric entered the room, a clean kitchen towel slung over his shoulder, a look of mock seriousness on his face. "Dinner is served," he announced.

As they all sat down at the beautifully set dining table, Aiden rubbed his hands together in eager anticipation. "There it is," he said, his eyes wide as he looked at the magnificent feast Eric had prepared. There was a roasted chicken, steaming vegetables, and freshly baked bread.

Eric walked first to Delia's chair, pulling it out for her before gently setting her plate in front of her. Only then did he turn his attention to his guests. He looked directly at Aiden. "Could you stop rushing me, sir?" he said, his tone perfectly serious.

Aiden, caught off guard by the formal tone, gulped. A flicker of real fear crossed his face before he realized it was a joke. He remained silent, his mouth slightly open. Eric then roughly shoved a plate to Aiden's side of the table with a loud scrape, making him jump.

Amber laughed. "You are such a bad host, brother," she commented, taking her seat. "Can't you see we are almost out of wine?"

Eric took his own seat at the head of the table. "My lady, don't you have your own hands? You can go down to the cellar and grab a bottle or two yourself."

"But your poor, busy, loving sister," Amber retorted, her tone light and teasing, "went all the way down to the Criminal and Justice Division herself to take care of business for you. Can't you just do this one small thing for me, brother?"

"Well, I was the one who drafted the official legal complaint," Aiden added, looking pointedly at Eric. "My hands still hurt from all that writing."

Owen, who had been listening to all of this with a wide, happy smile, then replied, his own voice the tiniest in the room. "Well," he said proudly, "I was the one who distributed all of the new pamphlets on time, all by myself."

Amber reached over and ruffled his hair affectionately. "And you did a very, very good job, Owen."

Delia just smiled, her heart so full it felt like it might burst. This was her family.

Amber caught her expression. "Delia, you look so pretty when you smile. Is that what got my brother to fall for you?"

Delia's smile widened, but she grew shy, bringing up her hands to partially cover her mouth. "What?" she said, her voice a soft whisper.

Eric, who had been serving himself a piece of chicken, paused. He looked at his wife, his gaze lingering on her happy, flustered face. He then took a bite of his food, chewed thoughtfully, and swallowed before speaking, his voice a simple, honest statement of fact. "My wife has always been pretty."

" Ohhhh!" The table erupted in warm, gentle chorused sound. Delia's face turned a shade rosier, but she lowered her hands, her smile now open and bright. She watched the exchange at the table. This was her family.

Amber turned to her, her own smile softening. "So you must keep smiling, Delia," she said, her voice sincere. "We are all on your side. Don't you worry about a thing."

Delia looked around the table, at Aiden, at Amber, at little Owen, and finally at her husband, who was watching her with a look of deep affection. She felt a profound sense of peace. She nodded. "Okay."