The next morning came far too soon.
Evelyn had barely slept. Her mind kept replaying everything that had happened the night before. The rain. The broken window. The unconscious assassin. And most of all, the Duke's calm voice saying 'You're hired'.
She still couldn't believe it.
She got up from the tiny room the servants had given her, yawned, and stared at herself in the mirror. The fake mustache had fallen off during the night and was now stuck to her pillow. Her short hair stuck out in every direction.
"Perfect," she muttered. "Exactly what a highly professional royal guard should look like."
After fixing her hair and reattaching her mustache, she put on the uniform the butler had left for her. It was a little too big, but she rolled the sleeves and adjusted the belt until she looked somewhat official.
Then she gave herself a pep talk.
"Evelyn. You can do this. Just walk tall, act confident, and don't let anyone find out you're a woman."
Her reflection didn't look very convincing.
She sighed and headed out.
The Duke's mansion was awake and buzzing with quiet activity. Servants hurried through the halls carrying trays of breakfast and stacks of papers. The smell of coffee and fresh bread drifted through the air.
Evelyn tried to walk confidently, but she ended up bumping into a maid carrying a vase of flowers. The vase wobbled dangerously before she caught it just in time.
The maid gasped. "You must be the new bodyguard."
"That's me," Evelyn said, trying to sound cool.
"You're smaller than I expected," the maid said kindly. "But the Duke must see something special in you."
Evelyn laughed awkwardly. "Yes. Terrible luck, perhaps."
She continued down the hallway and finally stopped in front of a tall pair of doors. She took a deep breath and knocked.
"Enter," came the calm voice from inside.
Evelyn stepped into the Duke's study.
He was already working, surrounded by maps, letters, and a steaming cup of tea. His dark hair was neatly tied back, and his long coat fit perfectly around his shoulders.
He looked like he had never once overslept or tripped over anything in his life.
Evelyn, unfortunately, tripped over the doorframe.
She caught herself before falling but her sword clattered loudly against the floor.
The Duke glanced up. "You are early."
"I thought it would make a good impression," she said quickly, pretending nothing happened.
"It did," he said. "You frightened the butler half to death."
Her cheeks burned. "Right. Sorry about that."
He gestured for her to stand by the window. "You will accompany me today to the royal archives. There have been reports of theft. I prefer to handle it quietly."
"Understood," she said, straightening her posture.
"Also," he added, "try not to break anything valuable. The kingdom's history is stored there."
"I'll try to only break myself," she muttered under her breath.
He looked at her sharply. "Did you say something?"
She coughed. "No, Your Grace. Just warming up my voice."
An hour later, they were on their way to the royal archives in a sleek black carriage. Evelyn sat across from him, pretending not to notice how elegant he looked even while reading reports.
He was the kind of man who didn't need to speak to command attention. The world seemed to bend quietly around him.
Meanwhile, Evelyn couldn't even sit still without her sword hitting the seat.
The silence grew heavy, so she decided to speak.
"Your Grace," she said carefully, "about yesterday. The whole umbrella thing. That was… unusual."
"Unusual," he repeated.
"Yes. I don't normally attack people with umbrellas. I prefer spoons."
That earned her a small smile. It was quick, but she saw it.
"You have an odd way of thinking, Guard Ash," he said.
"Thank you, Your Grace. I take that as a compliment."
"You shouldn't."
She grinned. "I'll take it anyway."
He shook his head slightly, though his expression softened.
Evelyn turned to look out the window to hide her smile. For a moment, she forgot about her disguise, her fear, and the fact that she was sitting across from the most intimidating man in the kingdom.
He wasn't as cold as the rumors said. He was calm, yes, but his quietness felt more thoughtful than cruel.
And when he smiled, even for a second, the whole room seemed a little less serious.
The archives were located near the palace. The building was grand and quiet, filled with tall shelves and the faint scent of ink.
Evelyn followed close behind the Duke, pretending to look professional while secretly admiring how effortlessly he moved. Every step was measured. Every glance, precise.
When he turned to look at her, she quickly looked away and stared at a bookshelf.
He raised a brow. "Find something interesting?"
"Yes. This book. About… um… ancient… pottery."
He gave her a flat look. "That shelf holds military reports."
"Ah. Of course. Pottery of war."
He didn't say anything, but she saw the corner of his mouth twitch again.
They spent hours checking through ledgers and scrolls. Evelyn's job was mostly to stand guard, but she couldn't help feeling useless. She tried to look alert but ended up daydreaming about warm food and soft beds.
When the Duke finally finished, he said, "We will return to the mansion."
"Yes, Your Grace."
She followed him out of the building, still lost in thought, when her boot caught on the edge of a step. She stumbled forward, straight toward the Duke.
He caught her before she could fall.
For a moment, everything stopped.
His hand was firm on her arm, steady and warm. She could see the faint glow of sunlight through his hair. His eyes, that calm stormy gray, met hers from only a breath away.
"Careful," he said quietly.
Her heart jumped. "Y-yes, Your Grace."
He released her, and she immediately stepped back, trying not to look flustered.
"I'm fine," she said too quickly. "Very fine. Perfectly steady. Like a rock."
He looked unconvinced but said nothing.
Back at the mansion, the Duke disappeared into his office again, leaving Evelyn free until dinner.
She leaned against a pillar and sighed. "I cannot keep this up forever. If he finds out I'm a woman, I'll be thrown out before sunset."
The old butler appeared beside her, carrying a tray of tea. "Talking to yourself, young man?"
Evelyn jumped. "I was… practicing guard language."
He chuckled. "The Duke seems to like you already."
She blushed. "I think he just enjoys watching me suffer."
"That might be true. But he smiled twice today, and that has not happened in months."
Evelyn blinked. "He smiled?"
"Twice," the butler said with a proud nod. "You must be doing something right."
She smiled to herself as she climbed the stairs to her room.
Maybe she wasn't a perfect guard. Maybe she was a complete disaster.
But if she could make the Duke smile again, even a little, then maybe she was exactly where she needed to be.
She lay on her bed, looking up at the ceiling with a small grin.
Tomorrow, she would train harder, act tougher, and try not to fall into anyone's arms again.
But deep down, she wasn't sure she could keep her heart from doing exactly that.