Chapter 10
The more I pondered it, the more certain I became. This was Millicent's doing. Kyle and I had lived a quiet life for four years, and now, as if by magic, trouble descended upon us shortly after crossing paths with her? Coincidence? I thought not.
The idea that she would dare meddle in my already imperfect existence caused my temper to bubble dangerously close to the surface. Still, I forced a serene expression as I pulled my hair into a bun. If I allowed my fury to show, Kyle would likely unravel entirely, and then where would we be? No, I had to remain composed, though my resolve to confront her burned hotter with every passing moment.
Grabbing my cane, I rose from my seat, letting Kyle's patched-up pants fall forgotten onto floor. I smiled at him. "I shall return shortly."
Kyle blinked at me. "Where're you goin', Ann?"
"To pay a visit to the Duchess of Ivoryspire," I replied, already making my way to the carriage.
His bewildered voice trailed behind me. "You're goin' all the way to Ivoryspire?"
"No, Kyle, to her residence here in Torvalis."
"The duchess's got a house here in the city?"
"Of course she does. She likely owns a residence in every town, city, and hamlet across the realm. For all we know, she may even have a floating palace in the clouds where she dines with birds and sunbeams," I said, climbing into the driver's seat.
Kyle wasn't amused. "Ann, love, I just got accused of trespassin'. Why are you visitin' the duchess?"
"To resolve that exact issue."
Kyle reached for the reins before I could. "And how exactly is visitin' the duchess supposed to solve this?"
"Because, Kyle, this may very well be her doing."
"Why in the blazes would she do somethin' like that? We're commoners! I don't remember ever crossin' her."
Should I tell Kyle? No, his tender heart might shatter. "Just trust me on this, will you? I shall handle it."
Kyle's face twisted with determination, and I knew what was coming before he even opened his mouth. "I don't understand any of this, but if you're goin', I'm comin' with you."
"No, Kyle," I said firmly, "I think it is best if you stay here."
"Goin' to see the duchess over somethin' that's my fault ain't a small thing. I may not get what's happenin', but I'm not lettin' you handle it alone."
And so began a tug-of-war of words, right there under the sweltering sun. For thirty grueling minutes. At last, I sighed in defeat, my patience worn thinner than Kyle's poor trousers. "Fine. Have it your way. Steer the horse to the post office. We'll need to get the duchess's exact address."
Skipping ahead past the tedious business of acquiring the address of pestering post office clerks and deciphering their less-than-stellar penmanship, there we were at last. Our humble carriage rolled to a stop before the imposing gates of the Duchess's mansion in the heart of the city.
The sight of it was predictably grand, as though the very bricks and mortar wished to remind the world of its noble inhabitant. I glanced up at the iron gates, which seemed unnecessarily ornate.
The gatekeeper approached Kyle's side. "Good afternoon, sir. Might I have your name?"
Kyle hesitated. Before he could flounder, I took matters into my own hands. Gripping my cane, I stepped down from the carriage with as much grace as the blistering heat would allow. I inclined my head slightly toward the gatekeeper, a show of polite respect.
"Good afternoon, sir. I am Ann Woodstone, and this is my husband, Kyle Woodstone."
Kyle scrambled down from the carriage and hurried to my side. He mimicked my bow, though his movements lacked the refinement of someone accustomed to such formalities.
The gatekeeper returned our gesture with a slight bow of his own. "What brings the Woodstone family here today?" He asked politely.
"We have come to request an audience with Her Grace," I said.
"Do you have an appointment?"
"I regret to inform you that I do not," I replied, my voice honeyed with forced politeness.
Oh, splendid. Absolutely delightful. I had completely overlooked this irksome little rule. To see a duchess, one must be invited, and an invitation must be ceremoniously waved about like a ticket to paradise. How utterly insufferable. Why could they not behave like normal human beings? You know, open the door, greet your guest, and perhaps offer them tea instead of acting like celestial beings too exalted for mere mortals to behold.
I resisted the urge to tell the gatekeeper that his precious duchess had been skulking about my impoverished neighborhood. He would never believe it, of course. To him, she was likely the epitome of grace and refinement, far above such earthy pursuits. Nobles corrupting their staff into unquestioning worshipers. What a marvel.
Still, I smiled. The things I endure.
Before the gatekeeper could respond, a deep, authoritative voice interrupted from beyond the closed gates. "Open the gate."
All three of us turned toward the voice. A tall, impeccably dressed young man stood just behind the gates, his tailored blue suit fitting him with precision that bordered on artistry.
I blinked, my mind reeling. How had I not seen him there before? Had he materialized from thin air? Did the Duchess employ sorcerers now?
I struggled to suppress an unladylike roll of my eyes as I took in his pristine appearance. A white cravat sat perfectly tied at his neck, his gloved hands rested lightly at his sides, and his jet-black hair was styled with meticulous care. His piercing black eyes contrasted sharply against his fair skin, which was, infuriatingly untouched by even the faintest sheen of sweat.
Meanwhile, here I stood in a thin summer dress, feeling as though the sun itself were trying to bake me alive. Kyle looked worse, his shirt clinging to him in damp patches, and even the gatekeeper had fine beads of perspiration dotting his face.
The sheer unfairness of it all made my blood simmer anew. How could one man appear so utterly unaffected by this infernal heat while the rest of us mortals were left to suffer like roasted pigeons? Truly, the world held no justice!
"Sir Issac!" the gatekeeper greeted swiftly.
"Open the gate," Issac commanded sharply.
"At once, sir!" The gatekeeper scrambled to comply, and the grand iron gates creaked open.
Issac stepped through with grace. When he reached me, he bowed deeply. A gesture so unexpected that both Kyle and the gatekeeper visibly flinched in surprise. "Welcome, do come in."