Amor Vincit Omnia (✓)

♕ Chapter 10

"You bloody prick, you disgusting wanker! Damn your good wits and those magic fingers of yours! I hate you, I hate everything that falls under your name! Couldn't you fucking use a condom, you devil?!"

Freya did say those words in her troubled, thoughts-spinning head, but she promised to be his shelter. What came out of her mouth was, naturally, a word of encouragement – despite her aching heart.

"We shall sort this out, Julian. I will not leave your side. Someone probably tipped the press, therefore we need to ensure our people that our bond is strong regardless of any storm we are facing. We are strong, Julian, we really are."

Freya drew soothing circles on her husband's quivering hand. They were both standing in the Main Hall, waiting for the arrival of the so-called mistress.

Her name was, as Julian read from the subpoena, Angela. He felt slightly ashamed for not remembering her name, but his past - as an irresponsible man in matters of heart – needed to shade itself. He could sense Freya's discomfort and that was literally the last feeling he desired to experience.

The stream of thoughts was interrupted by Angela's clicking shoes. Right from the moment she stepped in, almost screeching the marbled floor, the Duke could notice something was off. For a pregnant woman who was expecting a child, she behaved too much like a diva preparing for a catwalk session.

"Good morning, milord, milady." She half-bowed, winking sassily at Julian, who narrowed his eyes in utter discontent.

"John, escort yourself out." Julian ordered with a brisk hand movement.

John bowed respectfully and left the royal couple in front of the scandal-making woman.

"I will be speaking now. I would call you a madam, but we are both aware that you are most definitely not. Do not think, even for a fraction of a second, that you can fool me. I have dealt with numerous uptight situations, therefore I know for certain that there is someone else patting your back.

After having a paternity test, if it proves to be positive, I shall give you a sum of money to raise your child. Be careful with this nuance. It is your child, not mine. You cannot blackmail me, but I can threaten you without bearing consequences. Be vigilant. Drop your accusations, make whatever excuse your limited head can produce and leave the country. Yes, you heard me correctly. Not the Duchy, but England itself. Have I made myself clear?"

His voice was petrifying. Freya admitted internally that he was much more terrifying than his enraged self. That calmness, the uniformity of his voice, the constant tone were skin-tousling. He perfectly resembled a twilight sea right before a shack-ripping storm occurred. His menacing tongue brought not only prickles of fear down Freya's spine, but also a flash-back of him - her husband matched the man that abused her a few years ago and she instantly felt like crawling underground.

She could never confess that to Julian, but all the positive prospects she had imagined so far vanished into thin air. She was truly afraid of the man she married, simply because he took over her abuser's demeanour.

"He forgot to mention how tough you were." Angela said, fidgeting uncomfortably.

"He?" Julian furrowed his eyebrows and wanted to approach her, but Freya captured his wrist. He refrained from yanking his hand off her grip, took a few deep breaths and shifted in his seat.

"He?" The Duke repeated his question, for Angela realized she made a mistake by mentioning her "employer".

"Your father."