3 The Duke's Awakening

Vance's glowing blue eyes were staring into Melva's grey ones for a few seconds before shifting to the priest's. She had no idea how it was possible for his eyes to glow like that, but perhaps, that was just how werewolves' eyes were. Noticing her hand on top of his, he immediately retracted his hand rather harshly, as though the contact scorched him. She was still stunned by his waking up, so she didn't react to his rude gesture.

"Are you feeling alright, Your Grace?" asked the priest, genuinely concerned about the Duke's wellbeing and relieved that he was now awake.

"Yes, Father Seymour. The coldness is gone for now," answered Vance, reassuring him as he sat up and leaned his back against the headboard. He frowned at Melva who was sitting on the chair next to his bed and asked Father Seymour, "Who is this woman?"

Melva was pulled out of her trance as she realised the Duke was referring to her and quickly introduced herself in a polite manner. "Melva Winchell, Your Grace, from Ichorhold."

Vance was staring down at her, his brows furrowed in disapproval. The look he gave Melva made her feel like something was wrong with her when it actually was not. She unconsciously looked down at her own dress, finding it was still in good condition, and then stared back at him in distaste. He didn't avert his gaze, so now they were staring into each other's eyes, refusing to look away first, for the one who did would lose—lose in something no one knew what.

"I am glad that you finally found the one, Your Grace," expressed Father Seymour, happily congratulating the Duke. "Miss Winchell is your perfect match—your future mate. She brings you warmth and that is good news after a decade of nothing. I shall prepare for the wedding."

"I cannot marry her," refused Vance curtly, his blue glowing eyes still scrutinising her. His condescending look was gradually getting on her nerves. It was true that she was nothing compared to the Duke, but it was rude to belittle her like she was no more than rubbish. 

For goodness' sake, she saved his life! She was worthy of respect!

'What is his problem?' thought Melva indignantly. It was not like she was thrilled at the thought of marrying the Duke either. If she were not bound by the contract, she would have been the first one rejecting the marriage.

"I'm afraid the King insists," said Father Seymour regrettably. "His Grace shall be wedded to the first woman who brings him warmth. That is an order from the King himself. I don't dare to disobey, Your Grace."

"I will speak to His Majesty tomorrow about that as I visit the palace to announce my recovery," declared Vance, sharing his plan with Father Seymour, finally taking his eyes off her. "This is not the time for me to get married and settle down. If Ichorhold has sent another young woman, then it must be a blood moon tonight. I have lost so much time and I cannot afford to lose more."

The reason why the Duke was so adamant on not marrying her took Melva by surprise. Time should not matter in the slightest for immortal creatures such as werewolves. What was he in such a hurry for? He had all the time in the world for doing whatever he was planning to do.

Even if now the reason for his strong rejection was somewhat understandable, it didn't mean his rude behaviour was.

"If I were to advise," said Father Seymour carefully, "I would say you should consider your health first, Your Grace. Miss Winchell is your only choice to survive, whether you like it or not."

"I am aware," replied Vance firmly, "I will have her stay in the manor, however, the marriage is unnecessary."

"I'm not one to say my opinion of that. I will return here tomorrow after you have an audience with the King. If you will excuse me, I shall take my leave now. Good evening, Your Grace, Miss Winchell." Father Seymour bowed at them before exiting the Duke's chamber.

Being left alone with the Duke inside his bedchamber, Melva was feeling out of place and awkward as she fidgeted on her chair, not knowing what to do. It was commonly seen as immoral—scandalous, even—for an unmarried woman to stay inside a man's bedchamber just the two of them. She was almost relieved when she heard him next.

"Wilber! Elisha!" shouted Vance, loud enough to be heard through the walls.

The butler and the maid who had escorted Melva into the Duke's chamber hurriedly came inside. They must have been waiting outside the door since she had entered the room. She wondered how Vance knew they were there when he had been asleep.

"Prepare the room next to mine for this lady to stay in," ordered Vance to the maid, Elisha, and then he turned to order the butler, Wilber, "Prepare the carriage early in the morning for my visit to the palace."

Wilber simply nodded at the order given to him, but Elisha was hesitant to answer.

"But, Your Grace," said Elisha tentatively, looking troubled, "Lord Corbett's guest is staying there."

"Move the guest to another room," said Vance without hesitation. "I need to have easy access to her chamber. And Elisha, you are now assigned to be her personal maid." He paused to give Melva's red dress another disgusted look. "Get rid of everything red in her possession. I despise that colour."

The way Vance looked at her as if she was rubbish—which now she understood it was because of her dress colour—and his impolite tone when he spoke infuriated her. This man had an excessive fixation with colours, judging from his all white chamber and his desire to control over the colour of her attire. Who was he to tell her how to dress? Every woman was free to dress at her will.

However, this Duke was someone she didn't stand a chance against. He was the owner of this manor and the demon who had formed a contract with her town. It would be unfair for Ichorhold if she did something foolish and angered the werewolf, causing danger for the town. She had to keep her part in the bargain, which was doing everything the Duke asked her to do, for he wanted her in exchange for Ichorhold's safety.

To be honest, Melva was fortunate that the werewolf didn't sink his fangs into her flesh the second he was awake.

Elisha nodded in understanding and bowed at the two of them before leaving the chamber to carry out Vance's order while Wilber was still staying inside, probably waiting to be dismissed by the Duke. Vance glanced at the wooden standing clock across the room before saying his next order.

"Wilber, we will have dinner in my room," ordered Vance and the butler excused himself to bring the food to the Duke's chamber.

"Melva, was it?" asked Vance after the two of them were left alone inside his room.

"Yes, Your Grace," answered Melva politely, hiding her annoyance at the rude Duke by putting on a blank expression. 

Melva didn't want to anger the werewolf and bring harm to herself and the townspeople back in Ichorhold. She was still not aware of what he was capable of and staying alone inside his room with him put her at a disadvantage, making her seen as an easy prey within his reach. The humans here seemed to not be afraid of the demon in the slightest, but it was always best to take precaution.

"There are some rules you need to obey," said Vance authoritatively. "One, you cannot leave the manor without my permission. Two, you are not allowed to stay inside a room aside from the one I assigned to you and mine. Three, do not touch me unless I tell you to. These are the top three I can think of right now. There will be more if I see the need to add the number."

Melva was expecting some kind of gratitude for waking him up from his long slumber, but of course, there was none. Instead, he gave her orders to follow. The man was prideful and overbearing. Surely, he was only thinking of himself. He had not given her a chance to speak her mind. She was never considered as someone of importance even if she had saved his life a few minutes ago. What a self-centred man.

The rules raised her eyebrows no matter how much she tried to make sense of them. "Your rules imply that I am confined to this establishment. Am I a prisoner here?"

Vance tilted his head slightly to the side, the corner of his lips lifting in amusement. "The contract states that I am free to do whatever I want with you and in return, every demon in this kingdom will not touch your precious little town. You must be grateful that I spared your life."

Melva hated the expression on his face right now, which clearly said that he knew he was winning and he loved every second of it. She was not generous enough to let him have his way with her. "I believe I saved your life first, Your Grace. The correct expression to say is thank you."

"You did not save my life," denied Vance stubbornly. She could see the way his face turned sour when she had mentioned about her saving his life. "You did nothing, thus there is no need for me to express my gratitude to you."

"Does it kill you to be more polite, Your Grace?" asked Melva impatiently.

Vance widened his eyes to fake innocence. "I am being polite. If not, you would already be in the dungeon right about now."

"What is the difference if I am confined to this manor? There is no freedom whatsoever."

"There is freedom. You only need to ask for it. Depending on how I feel, I might take it into consideration." Vance dared her and she knew better than to test his patience.