The Duke And His Beauty

The sound of delicate jewels striking the floor echoed through the quiet chamber, scattering like pebbles against the polished marble.

Rosellene moved through the space with an unhurried grace, her long hair slipping over her shoulder like liquid silk as she loosened its intricate hold.

She lifted a finger, idly hooking the fabric of her gown and letting it slide from her frame as she stepped toward the waiting bath.

Behind her, Millie, as attentive as ever stepped forward and collected the discarded gown and jewels without a word.

Perhaps only she knew what kind of person her lady truly was.

The one who shed her masks only in the quiet solitude of these walls.

The surface of the bath trembled as Rosellene dipped her foot into the warm water, her fingers skimming against the cool stone.

A sigh ghosted past her lips as she sank into its depths. Warmth enveloped her, and the water rose and spilt over the edge in silent waves.

She leaned back, closing her eyes, her mind drifting.

Elizabeth's letter had arrived earlier, confirming their departure at dawn. Their destination: the Temple of God.

The temple…

A place of divinity, prayer and faith. A place where many sought blessings and protection.

A place where he would be...

Rosellene's lashes fluttered as her fingers trailed lazily along the surface of the water, watching the ripples spread outward.

She closed her eyes, letting the warmth of the water embrace her.

The crisp air of dawn carried the scent of dew over the Valentine estate, the household was already in quiet motion.

Servants moved efficiently, loading Rosellene's luggage onto the carriage as she prepared for her stay at the temple.

Rosellene stood steady near the entrance dressed in a simple yet elegant gown, she paired it with a delicate fan resting lightly in her hand, the very image of understated refinement.

The gentle hues of morning light played against her serene expression, betraying none of the weight in her heart.

Lady Valentine, despite her usual late mornings, had made the effort to wake early and see her off, her expression unreadable.

Beside her, Eleanor lingered, eyes gleaming with barely concealed envy.

"You are truly fortunate, Sister," she sighed, her fingers skimming over the embroidered sleeve of Rosellene's dress.

"Not just anyone can gain entry into the temple, let alone stay for days. If only I could go with you…" She trailed off, watching Rosellene expectantly.

Rosellene met Eleanor's gaze and smiled faintly. With natural poise, she slipped her hand away, patting Eleanor's fingers in a gesture that was both gentle and dismissive.

"It is a rare privilege, indeed." she agreed lightly, "but one not meant for idle visits." Her tone was kind, but the message was firm.

Eleanor pouted, her lips parted as if to protest, but before any more pleasantries could be exchanged, Rosellene smoothly withdrew her hand and turned to Lady Valentine. "Mother, I shall take my leave now."

Lady Valentine nodded approvingly, her eyes unreadable. "Remember, Rosellene," she said warmly, yet with a quiet undertone of expectation, "Always carry yourself with grace, even in the presence of divinity."

Rosellene barely resisted the urge to cast an exasperated glance.

She dipped into a perfect curtsy offering a composed farewell before stepping into the waiting carriage, allowing the conversation to end on her terms.

The Temple of God was a sight to behold.

Nestled atop the sacred mountain, its sprawling grounds were bathed in a perpetual and almost ethereal light.

The very air carried an undeniable weight, thick with reverence and the lingering echoes of ancient prayers.

It is due to the sacred ground, the kingdom had withstood countless disasters solely relying on the temple's divine protection.

However, reaching its gates required a test of devotion.

The temple's entrance stood at the peak of a gruelling ascent, a thousand steps.

Each one is a testament to the sincerity of its visitors.

No matter one's status, every guest was expected to ascend the steps.

At the foot of the mountain, Rosellene reunited with Elizabeth and Celestine, the three of them standing side by side as they gazed up at the imposing path ahead and began their climb.

"I have heard stories about these steps," Celestine remarked, fanning herself lightly. "But seeing them in person… it is quite something."

Elizabeth sighed dramatically. "If I had known it would be this exhausting, I would have brought more servants to carry me up."

Her maid, Margaret, gasped, swiftly shushing her. "My lady, even the air has ears here!"

Celestine though fanning herself lightly, grinned. "She's right. If you complain too much, the gods might make the stairs longer just for you."

Even Rosellene couldn't suppress a quiet laugh, though she remained composed.

As the sun climbed higher, its golden rays spilt over them mercilessly, making their slow journey increasingly arduous.

Celestine, despite being no less exhausted, managed to find amusement in their situation. "We are barely a quarter of the way up, Elizabeth. Shall I have your maid carry you?" she teased.

Elizabeth pressed her lips together, clearly displeased but unwilling to argue.

Rosellene lifted her fan and gracefully waved her fan, but the heat pressed down insistently.

Millie, noticing the faint paleness in Rosellene's face, stepped forward and offered her a steadying hand.

"My lady, shall I..."

Rosellene cast her a glance, her lips twitching slightly. "I am not so delicate," she murmured, dismissing the gesture before resuming her climb.

But even she had to admit, she hadn't realized how delicate her body had become.

By the time they reached the halfway point, their pace had slowed considerably.

Elizabeth groaned, never the one to suffer in silence, fanning herself aggressively before leaning heavily against Margaret.

"That's it. I'm calling for a break." she declared, her usually lively voice laced with weariness.

Celestine, wiping a light sheen of sweat from her brow, did not hesitate to agree. "For once, I won't argue with you."

Rosellene discreetly covered the lower half of her face with her fan. Though her expression remained placid, the subtle exhaustion in her gaze did not go unnoticed.

Elizabeth smirked, catching the faint strain in her expression. She gave her a teasing glance.

"You, my dear Rosellene, are far too elegant for this kind of suffering. Tell me, what prayer could possibly be worth this?"

Rosellene exhaled softly, her voice carrying a tinge of humour. "Would you believe me if I said I came for the view?"

Celestine chuckled, her exhaustion momentarily forgotten. "If you tell me that after another hundred steps, I might just throw you down the mountain."

Elizabeth groaned, straightening up. "That would be a crime against beauty. Besides, if we rest too long, we might lose all motivation to move again."

Rosellene lowered her fan, a ghost of a smile playing on her lips. "Then shall we?"

With a shared sigh, the three ladies pushed forward.

At the grand entrance of the temple, a group of young men stood in idle conversation. Their fine garments marked them as nobility, yet their relaxed demeanour contrasted sharply with the solemnity of the sacred grounds.

Leading them was a figure of striking elegance.

Cassian Laurent.

Dressed in pristine priestly robes embroidered with the golden sigils of the temple, signifying his high status within the temple, his presence carried weight despite the serene air about him.

Though young, he was already regarded as the most favoured successor to the High Priest, holding an authority few could rival.

Among the group, a man let out a low chuckle, nudging Edgar.

"Edgar, isn't that your little cousin?" His voice carried amusement as he gestured toward the ascending figures. "What's she doing here?"

Edgar, standing with his arms crossed, followed the direction of his gaze. His brows lifted slightly as he caught sight of the familiar figures braving the temple steps.

He sighed helplessly. "What else? They've come to pray."

For Edgar, all three were like little sisters. Though he was accustomed to their stubbornness, The idea of them enduring such an arduous climb was both amusing and concerning.

Cassian, who had remained silent, finally swept his gaze toward the distant figures

His dark gaze flickered briefly over their figures before settling elsewhere, disinterested.

Then, as if bored already, he turned his attention back to the priests waiting on him. "Oh... then please, entertain these ladies when they enter the Hall of Devotion."

Father Aldric, standing a step behind Cassian, lowered his head in quiet deference. "As you wish, Your Eminence." His voice was composed and respectful.

Without sparing another glance and a graceful sweep of his robes, Cassian turned and strode away, his presence dissipating as swiftly as it had appeared.

Edgar sighed and followed after Cassian, his steps unhurried but purposeful. After all, he still had work to attend to...particularly, tasks that involved Cassian.

As Edgar caught up, he couldn't help but chuckle under his breath., "It wouldn't be amiss to show a bit more regard for our guests."

Cassian didn't glance back. "Why should I?"

Edgar smirked. "Because it makes life more entertaining."

Cassian simply hummed, clearly unmoved by the suggestion.

Edgar let out a quiet sigh, shaking his head as he followed close by, his footsteps steady against the temple's pristine stone floor.

The young man's indifference was nothing new. 

The High Priest's favoured successor was always an enigma, distant and indifferent, yet his words carried weight no matter how casually spoken.

Meanwhile, Rosellene and her companions pressed forward, unaware that their arrival had already drawn subtle interest within the temple's revered halls.