Page 22 of His Forsaken Duchess
“Mother! Cecilia!” Cedric’s voice rang through the endless hallways as he ran, his boots pounding against the stone floor.
The dim light from the sconces on the walls flickered, casting long and distorted shadows.
He wrenched open a door, his heart racing. “Where are you?”
The room beyond was dark and empty. He turned back into the hallway, his breathing erratic, the desperation clawing at his throat.
“Cecilia!” he shouted again, his voice raw with urgency.
A soft giggle answered him, distant and fleeting.
He froze, his heart leaping in his chest. “Cecilia?”
The giggle came again, echoing faintly behind him. He turned sharply, only to find the hallway melting away. The stone walls dissolved, replaced by the open expanse of a dark field. The air was heavy with whispers, murmurs that grew louder, crueler, until they became distinct voices.
“Shameless,” hissed one.
“Ruined,” another sneered.
“A disgrace to the family,” said a third, dripping with venom.
Cedric turned, and there she was—Cecilia, kneeling in the grass, her shoulders shaking as sobs wracked her small frame. Her dress was torn and muddy, her golden hair hanging in limp strands around her face.
“Cecilia,” he whispered, rushing toward her.
But the shadowed crowd closed in on her, their faces pale and indistinct, their eyes glinting with malice. Their voices rose, their taunts slicing through the air like knives.
Cedric planted himself between Cecilia and the crowd, his arms open wide. “Stop it!” he bellowed, his voice echoing across the field. “Leave her alone!”
The shadows pressed closer, their whispers turning into jeers. Cecilia’s sobs grew louder, filling the air. Cedric turned back to her, his voice breaking.
“I’ll protect you,” he said, his hands trembling as he reached for her. “I promise?—”
But before he could touch her, she dissolved into darkness, her cries echoing in his ears.
Cedric bolted upright, his chest heaving, his skin slick with sweat. The dim light of the dying fire flickered, the shadows no longer menacing but still heavy with the remnants of his nightmare. He raked a hand through his damp hair, pushing it back from his forehead as he tried to steady his breathing.
A faint rattling drew his attention, and his head snapped toward the window. The glass panes shook slightly, the sound mingling with the howling of the wind outside.
Cedric swung his legs over the edge of the bed, his feet hitting the cold floor with a thud. He rose and crossed the room in long strides, before yanking the heavy curtains aside.
The storm outside raged on, snow falling in thick, relentless sheets. The skeletal trees bent under the force of the wind, their bare branches clawing at the night. Cedric’s lips pressed into a thin line as he stared at the chaos.
“There’ll be no leaving in this weather,” he muttered under his breath. His hands clenched briefly before he unclenched them, letting the curtain fall back into place.
The air in the room felt stifling, his skin prickling with restless energy. There was no use going back to bed—sleep would elude him now.
With a long sigh, he grabbed his nightrobe and shrugged it on, tying the sash tightly before heading to the door.
The hallway was dim, the sconces casting a faint, flickering light. As soon as he stepped out, a delicate, familiar scent hit him—light and floral, unmistakablyhers.
Cedric froze, his jaw tightening as the scent wrapped around him like a soft blanket. His teeth clenched, and a low curse escaped his lips.
“Damn princess!” he muttered under his breath, his voice a low growl as he strode down the hall.
Her scent lingered, haunting him as much as his nightmare.
“This will never end!” Audrey declared as she pressed her forehead to the cold glass pane of her bedchamber window, her hands braced against the frame as she stared at the snow-covered grounds. “If the storm doesn’t stop, we shall never leave this place.”
