Page 51 of Duke of Fyre

Lydia nodded, but the words lodged in her throat, and they descended the staircase together in silence. The ball loomed ahead, but all Lydia could think of was how Elias had looked at her—how his attention seemed to be both a privilege and a burden all at once.

As they reached the door, Elias extended his arm with the same perfect courtesy as always, but Lydia could not ignore the sudden tightness in her chest. She had no idea what to expect from him tonight, no idea how the evening would unfold. But one thing was certain: her life had already shifted, and she wasn't sure whether she was ready for what came next.

But the carriage door was already open, and with one final glance at Elias, Lydia stepped inside. The night awaited. And with it, the promise of something far more than she had anticipated.

CHAPTER 20

The carriage jolted slightly as it rolled over the cobblestone streets, but inside, Lydia felt nothing but a strange stillness. Her hands were neatly folded in her lap, her fingers occasionally brushing the smooth silk of her gown. The midnight fabric felt cool to the touch, its intricate design catching the candlelight with each subtle shift of her hands.

Beside her, Elias sat with the same stiff formality he always maintained. His jaw was clenched, and his eyes, though seemingly directed out the window, appeared distant, preoccupied with thoughts she couldn't reach. Lydia studied him, noting the tension in his posture, the slight furrow between his brows. The Duke of Fyre, always composed, always powerful, seemed… unsettled tonight.

Lydia bit her lip. She had been quiet on the ride over, lost in her own thoughts, but now the silence between them was stretching too long. It felt heavy. As though they were both on the precipice of something neither could quite name.

"Are you nervous?" she asked softly, her voice cutting through the quiet.

Elias blinked and turned toward her, his lips pressing together in an unreadable line. "Nervous?" He met her gaze with a half-smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Hardly."

She tilted her head slightly, studying him more closely. "I've never seen you quite like this," she murmured. "I thought I was the one who would be nervous."

"I'm not nervous," he repeated, his tone more firm this time, but there was an undercurrent to his words that Lydia couldn't place. He didn't look at her directly, his gaze still focused on the passing scenery outside.

Lydia sighed, feeling a twinge of concern. There was something about the way he held himself tonight—a vulnerability masked by that immovable, dignified façade. She had grown accustomed to the Duke's reticence, but there were moments when she wanted to reach beneath that armor, to understand what lurked behind his stoic expression. But tonight, perhaps more than ever before, Elias seemed untouchable.

"I suppose we should enjoy it," she said, trying to lighten the mood. "After all, it's not every day a duchess makes her first appearance at a ball."

Elias finally turned toward her, his eyes softening just slightly. He didn't respond immediately, as if searching for the right words, or perhaps any words at all. "Just don't let them thinkyou're like them," he said at last, his voice rough with something Lydia couldn't quite place. "The world of balls and gowns isn't worth your time. You've already proven your worth to me."

Lydia's heart skipped a beat at the sincerity in his words. She didn't know how to respond, so instead, she settled for a simple, "Thank you," the words laden with more meaning than she could put into them.

The carriage slowed as they approached the grand Hartley estate, the towering columns of the ballroom visible in the distance. Lydia could feel her pulse quicken, the moment of truth approaching. She was about to step into that glittering world as the Duchess of Fyre, her every move watched and scrutinized by hundreds of strangers.

"Ready?" Elias asked, his voice breaking through her thoughts. He extended his arm, his usual composed expression back in place, though his eyes held a spark of something unreadable.

Lydia took his arm, feeling the warmth of his touch through the fine fabric of her gown. "As ready as I'll ever be," she said, though there was an unspoken weight to her words.

The carriage came to a complete stop, and before Lydia could say another word, the door swung open. She stepped out first, her gown swishing around her legs like a pool of midnight silk. The sound of the crowd inside the ballroom drifted to her ears—laughter, soft music, the clinking of crystal glasses.

For a fleeting moment, she felt a pang of nervousness. But then Elias was at her side, his presence grounding her. He was as imposing and regal as ever, his dark blue eyes scanning the crowd with the air of a man who was completely at home in such an environment.

Lydia's heart skipped as she noticed the sudden hush that fell over the guests. The crowd parted like the Red Sea, all eyes turning toward her. She felt the weight of their gaze like a physical thing, but it was Elias's gaze that truly caught her—his eyes locked on hers with such intensity that it nearly stole her breath.

For a moment, it was as if the entire world stopped. Nothing existed but the two of them, standing at the top of the grand staircase in the glow of hundreds of flickering candles. Lydia's breath caught in her throat. How could she possibly be dignified in such a moment?

"You look…" Elias's voice was low, thick with something she couldn't name. He paused as if lost for words, his gaze raking over her with a possessiveness that was both electrifying and overwhelming.

Lydia smiled softly, unable to resist teasing him. "Yes, Your Grace? Do I look suitably dignified?"

Elias's expression softened, a fleeting smile playing at the corner of his mouth. "You know perfectly well how you look," he muttered under his breath, though there was no hiding the admiration in his eyes.

The whispers from the crowd began, but they weren't the usual fearful murmurs about the Beast of Fyre. This time, Lydia heard words likebeautiful, extraordinary,andgracious. She felt a flush creep up her neck at the praise. It was not how she had ever been seen - it was not even how she had ever imagined herself.

With an elegant bow, Elias offered her his arm. "Shall we?" he asked, his tone carrying a faint note of amusement.

Lydia placed her hand on his arm, and together they descended the staircase. Every step she took felt like an eternity, the silence growing heavier as they made their way into the ballroom. She could feel the eyes of the room on them, but Elias's presence beside her was like an anchor.

At the foot of the stairs, Elias turned to face her. "You are truly one of a kind," he said quietly, a strange smile playing around his lips.

Before she could reply, before she could begin to ask him if it were a good thing or not ,the murmurs around them began to shift, and Elias's attention turned to a group of men clustered near the far side of the room. "Lord Pembroke wishes to discuss a business venture," he said, his voice low. "I should speak with him."

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