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He gathered me into his arms, his touch as gentle as if I were a priceless treasure.
“Seraphina, I will send for a physician at once…”
The man’s usually calm face was a mask of panic, yet his presence settled something deep within me. For some reason, he felt… familiar. A trick of my weary mind, perhaps.
“Who are you?” Damian’s voice was sharp with suspicion and anger. “And why are you wearing a groom’s
attire?”
“Who is this man! Seraphina is a consort of House Thorne, even if only a lesser one! Who gave you leave tc
touch her?”
The newcomer didn’t speak. He simply lifted his head, allowing the entire crowd to see his face.
A collective gasp went through the square.
“He… he has the same face as Lord Damian!”
“Two Lord Damians!”
The crowd erupted in shocked cries. Damian himself stared, a look of pure disbelief on his face. “No,” he muttered. “It can’t be… I gave the order for you to be destroyed three days ago…”
Realizing his slip, he clamped his mouth shut. A vicious light entered his eyes. “You are the imposter this harlot hired! Men, seize him!”
But the Thorne household guards only exchanged nervous glances, none daring to move forward.
“What is the matter?” Damian’s face grew uglier. “Does your lord’s command mean nothing? Do you all wish
to be sold to the salt mines?”
The guards finally, hesitantly, began to advance.
A murderous glint shone in the newcomer’s eyes. “To harm my bride on our wedding day… none of you will
escape this.”
“What are you?” Damian spat, his teeth clenched. “Even if she is not fit to be my duchess, she is my consort
for life!”
“Damian, my love,” Clara interjected. “Could it be that Seraphina hired this man to usurp your title?”
The suggestion ignited Damian’s fury. “So that was your plan!” he sneered. “Fine. Today, I will kill you myself!”
He drew his sword. “You are nothing but a fraud! Did you truly think you could replace me as the heir of this house after a few days of mimicry? I will flay the skin from your bones!”
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Chapter 2
A tremor of fear went through me. I tightened my grip on his sleeve. Damian had been trained by the finest
swordmasters since birth. I feared this man was no match for him.
But he simply patted my hand. “Do not be afraid,” he said softly. “I will see justice done for you.”
For some reason, this tender gesture seemed to enrage Damian further. “Harlot! I will teach you the rules of my house!”
He lunged. But the man met his attack with a swift kick that sent Damian sprawling.
“What are you waiting for? Attack him!” Damian screamed at his men. The Thorne guards surrounded us,
closing in.
Suddenly, a high, clear voice sliced through the air.
“His Majesty, the King, arrives!”
