A Touch of Shadow: The Duke's Obsession

Chapter 159: This Is Not A Game

Marina turned at the sound of her voice and offered a graceful curtsy, her smile as gentle and polished as ever.

"Miss Caelith," she said warmly. "I came to share in the happiness of this joyous occasion."

Caelith inclined her head politely. "You are most welcome."

Marina smiled at her, her eyes curving into delicate crescents.

"The bride is truly beautiful today. When Miss Caelith marries, I imagine you will be even more radiant."

Caelith merely smiled and did not respond.

At the wedding banquet, Marina was seated at the same table as Caelith.

She sat beside her throughout the feast, speaking to her from time to time with the easy familiarity of an old friend.

"Miss Caelith, those embroidered handkerchiefs of yours are wonderful. Would you reserve a few more for me next time?"

"Of course."

"Miss Caelith, what foods do you usually enjoy? Perhaps one day I can prepare them for you myself."

"There is no need to trouble yourself. It is no trouble at all. My cooking is quite decent, too."

Caelith answered politely, maintaining a smile throughout. Yet inwardly, she continued wondering what Marina truly wanted.

Not far away, Erian remained standing silently. His eyes never left Marina.

The lady eventually sensed his gaze and looked up. Erian did not avert his eyes, he simply continued staring at her.

Marina withdrew her gaze again, the smile on her face unchanged. Yet her hand paused briefly upon the teacup she was holding.

When the banquet finally ended and the guests began departing, she made a point of seeking out Caelith before leaving.

"Miss Caelith, I shall visit your shop again soon."

Caelith nodded. "You are always welcome."

Marina smiled before turning and walking away, and the moment she disappeared from view, Erian stepped to Caelith’s side.

"She keeps observing you. It’s unsettling."

Caelith nodded. "It is."

Erian was silent for a moment before speaking again. "What does she want?"

Caelith shook her head. "I don’t know."

Erian asked nothing further. Yet as he watched the direction in which Marina had departed, his eyes narrowed slightly.

Caelith recognized that look; she had seen it before. It was the same look he had worn during his first weeks staying with her.

The look he reserved for... enemies.

***

After the wedding, Marina’s visits became even more frequent.

Every few days, she would appear at Firefly Pavilion with a new agenda in mind. Sometimes she came to purchase embroidery, sometimes to seek instruction, and sometimes she seemed to come for no reason at all, merely sitting with a cup of tea and passing the afternoon in conversation.

After Yvaine moved away following her marriage, the shop felt noticeably quieter.

Marina’s presence brought a certain liveliness back to the place.

She was gracious with everyone. She spoke warmly with Caelith and could just as easily chat with customers who wandered into the shop. Within days, even the neighboring merchants and townsfolk had begun praising her.

"Miss Caelith, your friend is truly lovely."

"She is beautiful too, and so gentle when she speaks."

Caelith simply smiled whenever she heard such remarks, but she never commented.

Erian, however, was different. Every time Marina arrived, he would position himself somewhere nearby and watch.

He never approached. He never spoke. He only watched.

On the day Yvaine returned to visit after her marriage, she noticed his behavior and could not help but speak up.

"Erian, you really should stop staring at her like that. It’s rather frightening."

Erian remained silent.

Yvaine sighed and turned toward Caelith. "Sister, you should do something about him. He might scare off other customers."

Erian turned to Caelith and simply shrugged. "She’s wrong."

Caelith nodded and smiled. "I know."

Yvaine widened her eyes in confusion. "What do you mean, she’s wrong?"

Caelith offered no explanation. It was best to leave that matter be.

***

The next afternoon, Marina came once more. This time, she brought pastries she had baked herself and presented them to Caelith with a smile.

"I made these personally. Please try them."

Caelith accepted one and took a small bite. "It’s delicious."

Marina’s smile brightened at her remark. "I’m glad you like it. Next time, I’ll make something different."

She settled down in the shop and began chatting with Caelith as usual. They spoke of embroidery, the weather, and the latest happenings within the capital.

Everything appeared perfectly normal.

Yet Erian stood motionless by the entrance to the rear courtyard, his gaze fixed upon Marina without wavering. His stare was so direct that it became impossible to ignore.

At last, even Marina could endure it no longer. Turning toward him, she smiled lightly and asked, "Mr. Erian, is there something on my face?"

Erian did not answer. He simply continued looking at her.

For a brief instant, the smile on Marina’s face faltered.

Caelith finally intervened. "Erian, go check the firewood in the back courtyard."

He hesitated at first, but then turned and walked away toward the rear courtyard.

Marina quietly released a breath she seemed to have been holding this whole time.

"Miss Caelith," she said with a small laugh, "why does your helper always stare at people like that?"

Caelith offered her a faint smile. "It is just his nature. He means no offense."

Marina nodded. "I will take your word for it, then."

She remained a little while longer before finally rising to leave. When she reached the doorway, she suddenly turned back.

"Miss Caelith."

"Yes?"

The young lady smiled as sweetly as ever. "I truly like coming here."

And just like that, she left.

Caelith stood at the entrance and watched until Marina’s figure disappeared into the narrow alley beyond.

Moments later, Erian emerged from the rear courtyard and stopped beside her.

"She’s afraid of me."

Caelith turned to face him. "What?"

Erian continued looking toward the alley. "When I was staring at her, her heartbeat sped up. I could see her lips going pale. People who mean no harm do not get this nervous for no reason."

Caelith froze.

Erian’s voice remained calm as he continued. "She’s afraid of being seen through."

"I see..." Caelith replied after a long pause.

Erian stepped a little closer, his voice acquiring a somewhat insistent tone. "What are you going to do?"

Caelith gave it a thought, but in truth, there was nothing she could do.

"I will wait," she replied at last.

Erian frowned. "Wait for what?"

A cool breeze drifted through the narrow passageway and brushed against Caelith’s dress. She pulled her cloak more tightly around herself, shielding her body from the cold.

I will wait for Marina to reveal herself. Wait for her to make a mistake. Everyone eventually does...

***

As night deepened, a lamp still burned within the study of the Walerick Residence.

Philip Walerick sat behind his desk, a ledger spread open before him. His brows were drawn together in concentration as he reviewed the accounts.

A knock sounded at the door.

"Come in," he said, lifting his head.

The door opened, and Marina entered carrying a tray with a cup of tea.

"Father, you’re still working this late?"

Philip set aside the ledger and accepted the tea. "The Ministry’s accounts don’t balance. They must be checked again."

Marina sat down opposite him and rested her chin in her hand.

"Father, I have something to tell you."

The man glanced up at her, his eyebrows raised. "What is it?"

Marina pursed her lips. "I don’t want to visit that Caelith woman anymore."

Her father blinked in surprise. "Why not?"

Marina frowned. "I’ve gone so many times already. Every visit, I have to smile at her, keep her company, praise her embroidery, and pretend to enjoy it. It’s exhausting. And I think she is getting suspicious of me."

Philip lowered his teacup and looked at her steadily. "Marina, this is not a game."

The young lady frowned more deeply.

"I know that. But I still don’t understand why I have to curry favor with her. Why can’t we simply speak directly to Rhaegar?"

The man sighed. "You know Rhaegar’s temperament better than that. Once he decides on something, nobody can change his mind."

Marina went silent under the pressure. Philip sighed and softened his tone.

"The Old Madam’s intentions are very clear. She wants that girl to like you. To trust you. Once Rhaegar sees that, he will naturally begin accepting you as well."

Marina lowered her head and played absently with the edge of her sleeve.

"But I don’t want to flatter her." Bitterness crept into her voice. "What is so special about her? She can embroider a few flowers. Is that all? She is a fallen noble, for Lord’s sake! A disgrace!"

Her father frowned. "Marina."

She bit her tongue and looked up.

"Father, tell me honestly. In what way am I inferior to her? My family background, my appearance, my education, my accomplishments. Which of those does she surpass me in? Why should I be the one trying to please her?"

Philip hesitated before finally responding, "In this world, being better than someone in every measurable way is not always enough."

Marina stared at him, confused. "Then what is?"

The man tapped his fingers over the desk, leaning heavily against the back of the chair.

"Rhaegar loves her." His voice was calm. "That is her greatest advantage of all."

Marina froze.

Philip continued.

"You are not admitting defeat by befriending her. You are creating a path for yourself. If she accepts you, and if you continue visiting the Thorne family and deepen your relationship with the Old Madam, then in time Rhaegar will naturally begin to notice you."

Marina bit her lip. "But I don’t want to wait that long."

Her father sighed again. "Marina, some things cannot be rushed. This is a thin line we’re walking."

Marina rose abruptly from her chair. "I still refuse to accept it."

She turned and headed for the door, fuming.

"Marina!"

Philip called after her, but she did not look back.

The door closed behind her with a loud thud.

The man remained seated in silence, staring at the shut door before letting out a weary sigh.

. . .

After leaving the study, Marina grew increasingly angry the more she thought about it.

She returned to her chambers and sat before her dressing table. The bronze mirror reflected her face clearly beneath the lamplight.

Was she not beautiful?

She was.

Was her family background lacking?

Certainly not.

Then what exactly made her inferior to a mere embroiderer? What in the world was it?!