Wilhelm offered no response. Priscilla’s gaze sharpened, the icy blue of her eyes becoming ever colder as she stared at Wilhelm.
“Are you truly unaware, or do you simply lack the courage to speak?” she demanded.
Though her tone was imperious, her heart pounded in her chest. She knew she had crossed a line, but an odd calm settled over her. There was something in the way Wilhelm stood before her that made her believe he would not disappoint.
“A wife.”
The words echoed through the corridor, his voice steady and unyielding—one that would not falter, even amidst the chaos of a battlefield. A faint smile flitted across Priscilla’s face. Duke Wilhelm von Thisse was neither a fool nor a brute. He was a man of strategy and valor, his title of war hero well-earned. More than that, he was a man who did not disappoint her.
