TEWRIT 53

Episode 53

Eliano lay on the bed, her dress in wild disarray—delicate smock barely covering one white shoulder, her bare leg visible under the sheets. Alongside her dreamy, languid gaze, the fresh stain on the sheets suggested she had spent an intimate night with her partner.

“Oh my God!” came Heriath’s horrified voice.

In a heartbeat, he vanished, leaving the bed curtained again. Eliano paused, puzzled.

“Are you out of your mind?” Flint’s calm voice followed Heriath’s yell. He must’ve pulled him away quickly. Eliano felt a pang of disappointment—she’d wanted to criticize Heriath, but now he was gone.

Beyond the bed, they could hear Heriath screaming in rage about breaking an arm. Eliano grinned—it was delightful to hear. Flint’s composed words contrasted sharply with the Crown Prince’s tantrum.

“I need to write the proposal and send it immediately. The bride’s family is strict.”

She heard the door slam shut—the finality satisfying. Heriath roared in frustration again. Eliano rolled over and yawned, feigning absolute calm.

Flint’s tone sharpened—this must have upset him, too.

“I don’t want to disturb a lady’s sleep. Don’t you think it’s far too early to enter someone else’s bedroom? It’s most impolite.”

Eliano listened, absorbing every word. His measured voice made him seem strong and serious, especially compared to the Crown Prince’s chaos.

Then she heard the soft creak of the curtain as Flint approached.

Eliano lifted it, expecting him to apologize—but the moment he saw her tangled dress, his expression reset. She had breached his reserve—but he smiled softly.

“You’ll need to get used to it,” she teased, at ease. “Won’t you be my wife forever?”

Flint looked awkward, meeting her gaze.

“I… have heirs to consider…”

His voice trailed, reluctant.

“Take things a little slower…”

Flint ducked his head with a sigh.

“It’s hard to match your pace.”

Eliano let out a quiet laugh at his gentle plea.

Flint insisted on escorting her back. He guessed her rush was to avoid Heriath—but Eliano hesitated.

“Your Grace, if I go out early and get seen, I’ll have no chance tonight.”

“But I cannot send a lady home alone after such a night. Your father would understand.”

Eliano shook her head.

“He’d be furious—he might kill me!”

Flint included himself in her own words.

“That’s why I must accompany you. No gentleman sends his bride home alone. If a powerless man proposed, I’d kill him.”

Eliano paused—Flint’s misstep was better than his old restraint. She could use his status to protect herself from her father. If they had a child, he wouldn’t dare sell her to Zacador.
But she still needed to attend the final ball tonight—to create their beautiful memory.

“My Grace, I already broke protocol. I will follow it going forward, but please don’t cast me as unworthy.”

“No more permission is needed—” Flint began.

She interrupted:

“My guardian is now my husband, not my father.”

She handed him her future. Just as she had with her husband in a past life.

“I don’t want your family and mine at odds. I’ll handle it all—the bribes, the negotiations.”

Flint faced her sternly.

“Please—don’t make me look like a coward.”

Eliano felt conflicted—but her heart fluttered. Confronting his determined gaze was dangerous.

Eliano refused his carriage to the front gate. Instead, they re-entered through the secret passage. Jane stood waiting inside, candle in hand, anxious.

“My lady—!” She gasped when she saw Flint again. She was proud—it meant success, and she wore his robe, a sign of marriage to come.

Flint looked embarrassed as they appeared before the hidden door.

Eliano smiled.

“Thank you for all your care.”

“I’ll forget this location immediately,” he replied sweetly.

She sighed with relief.

“Tonight… will you dance the first—and last dance—with me?”

He answered warmly:

“It’ll be both first and last, for you.”

Though they weren’t yet lovers, it sounded so romantic it made Eliano blush. She turned to Jane—

“Let’s go! Have you waited long? Open the path!”

“Yes, my lady!” Jane waved her candle as they slipped inside.

Flint wiped his brow. He’d meant to ask first—but her boldness matched his own. Tonight, he would insist she attend the ball.

He returned to his carriage.

Morning came. Eliano realized she’d kept Flint’s robe. It was chilly, so she didn’t return it.

“Hide it under the covers,” Jane whispered. She helped her slip into the quiet bath before the maids interrupted.

The warm water relaxed Eliano. The exhaustion from last night hit her suddenly. She drifted into sleep even as Jane left the room.

By the time breakfast arrived, Eliano had hardly slept. Knowing Heriath caused a dawn commotion, Flint’s confession spread quickly. Just as she planned, the gossip reached Zacador.

Her heart raced with relief.

But the marriage proposal came too soon. The Rosana Duke, infuriated, screamed to bring her in—even though she’d been supposedly ill in bed.

He tore the proposal to shreds.

“You filthy strumpet! You seduced a man and dared… to seize the stars?!”

Her cheek stung from the slap. Emotional pain gnawed.

Flint’s words carried weight. Every noble heard—and believed.

Suddenly, her father’s hands gripped her neck. Her vision blackened.

Pamela tried to stop him and was slammed aside.
The older steward tried to intervene but was kicked.

Duke Rosana’s arm tightened as aides rushed in.

“Hold him! He’s going to kill her!”

“He’s lying—Marquis Howard says he’ll wed her! Check for proof—like past times!”