"I'm so sorry, Mrs. Laney. I will look into this right away. I will call for you in a week to inform you of my findings." I held the distressed woman's hands in mine.
The brunette wiped away her tears, and her eyes lit up with gratitude. "Thank you so much for your kindness, Your Grace."
"Benjamin, please accompany her to the front door." Placing a hand on the small of her back, I guided her towards Benjamin who was standing by the door.
These past few weeks have been eventful. Petitions, letters, and private audiences have kept me busy from morning to evening. My days were so full of work that I even forgot to eat sometimes, much to Benjamin's distaste.
The clock struck five when the Hemming family—my last audience for the day—stepped out of the office. Rising from my seat, I stretched my back and went to the garden to relax for a while before dinnertime.
My heels clicked on the pathway stones as my fingertips caressed the petals of the flower blooms that lined the trail. Stopping in front of a rose bush, I lightly rubbed the silky petals of the pale blooms between my fingers and bent at the waist. The petals tickled my nose as its zesty sweet fragrance dispelled my weariness.
Continuing my journey down the pathway. I went to sit on the stone bench set on a small nook under a willow tree overlooking the small pond in the middle of the garden.
My eyes closed as the breeze rustled the leaves and caressed my face. I breathed in, trying to contain its freshness inside my lungs. After a while, my eyes cracked open.
The once crystalline water of the pond was stained with patches of crimson; from the rose bush's low blossoms that bled their color into the pond through the dozens of petals floating on the water's surface.
The sight brought to my mind a realization. It's been four years already. I thought about how I came to be here, in this position. The opportunities that the offer he made some time ago has afforded me. A soft smile came to my lips.
"Madam?" Brigitte's voice came from somewhere in the garden.
"I'm at the willow tree," I called out.
"Alright, it's just to tell you dinner is ready."
"Ok, I'll be there in a minute."
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I sat hunched over at the head of the table, immersed in the writing on the parchment scattered around the wooden surface.
"Dinner time," Benjamin announced. Gathering the documents into a pile, he placed them on the opposite side of the table.
"No, please, just five more minutes." My hands reached for the papers, but Benjamin smacked my hands away before I could grab them.
"No, you need to eat. If I give them back to you, the food will go cold, and you will not want to eat anymore." He pushed them farther away.
I sat back down with a humph, "Then can you please keep me company" Batting my eyelashes, I gave him my best endearing look.
He raised an eyebrow and stared at me.
"Oh, come on, it's just for today."
"That's what you always say," he retorted with a smile and sat down.
"Thank you," I grinned.
"I've been meaning to commend you on the great work you have been doing lately as a duchess. The way you handled Ms. Laney's request was amazing, and it's not an easy request." Benjamin spoke as the maids set our bowls of soup on the table.
"Thank you. I have a couple of ideas that I wanted to run by you. I would like to know what you think of them."
After discussing the pros and cons of several courses of action for half an hour, we fell into a comfortable silence.
"I realized when I was back at the garden that today makes four years since I got married and started living here." My fork poked at the leftover potatoes on my plate.
"Yes, time flies, doesn't it?" He placed his last piece of steak in his mouth.
"Yeah," My voice trailed off. After finishing off the food on my plate, I asked. "Could you tell me a little about Iskander? How did you two meet?"
He dabbed his mouth with his napkin. "He was a young boy when I met him. He was about seven years old." A fond smile lit his face. "His late Majesty, The King, brought him to the Soldier's Academy. After his son, Uriel―the current king―begged his father to take Iskander to the capital after a great tragedy happened in his hometown."
"What happened? Did something happen to his family?"
"That is a story that I think he should be the one to tell."
"Yes, Of course."
He continued, "I was one of the butlers that worked at the prince's palace around that time, and they needed someone to take care of the boy while he wasn't in school. I always wanted to have my own children, but it was a little hard to get married and start a family with my job at the palace." His gaze dropped to the table, and he continued, "And I couldn't leave the job since I was the main provider for my mother and siblings, so I volunteered." The expression that came to his face was like that of a fond father, reminiscing about his children.
"What was he like?" I inched forward on my seat.
"He was a timid boy. He only spoke when he was spoken to and wasn't rowdy like the other boys. He stayed where you left him without moving an inch. It was a little sad actually." He flashed a sad smile. "The maids at the prince's palace adored him. They fawned on him all the time. He was a cherub. With his reddish-brown wavy hair, freckled cheeks, and big gray eyes. There wasn't a maid in that palace that didn't fall for that little boy."
I tried to picture the Duke as a boy in my mind, and I giggled, overcome by the cuteness of the boy conjured by my mind.
"I helped him with his schoolwork, cheered him on with his soldier training, and scared off the monsters under his bed. He used to be terrified of the dark," he commented. "And when he was awarded the knighthood, I was so proud that I felt my heart would burst." He grinned, remembering the moment. "I was supposed to be his caretaker only until he turned eighteen. But after they gifted this land to him, I decided to follow him here. He was going to be all alone in a new place. I couldn't abandon him," He continued after a beat, "And that's how I came to be this Manor's butler."
"Wow, he's basically your son. I see why you care so much for him."
"Yes," he said with eyes full of fatherly affection.
I took his wrinkled hands in mine, "And he cares a lot about you too. I think that's one of the reasons he married me, to make sure you were taken care of if anything were to happen to him."
He gave a sad smile and remained silent for a moment, "He almost died in the last great war, seven years ago." He admitted. "His armor was worn down due to the arduous fight, and an arrow pierced his side through one of the cracks on his chest plate." He took a shaky breath, "He lost a lot of blood. The medics didn't hold much hope for him, so they sent out a letter to inform me of his condition and prepare me for the worst." He squeezed my hands and lowered his gaze, "I was devastated."
"But he pulled through."
"Yes, he did. That man has some fighting spirit," he trailed off. "He's also an awful patient, he spent six months recuperating after his injury, and he wouldn't stay put. I almost had the maids tie him to his bed." He chuckled.
I suppressed a smile and stayed silent for a moment, contemplating his words.
"No matter what everyone thinks and says about him. He's a great man Leyla."
"I don't doubt that." A smile crept across my face.
After dessert, Benjamin retired for the day, and I sneaked back into the office to sign some documents and finish some worksheets Ms. Rose left for me to do.
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The warmth and the soothing scent of the lavender oil in the bathwater relaxed my tired muscles. This makes all that hard work worthwhile. I leaned my head back and dozed. When my fingers shriveled up like raisins, I stepped out of the tub and threw on my night clothes.
Brushing out the tangles in my hip-length hair, I stared at my reflection in the boudoir's mirror. I look so different. Brushing my fingers across my plump cheeks, I struggled to picture the girl with hollow cheeks and sunken eyes from four years ago. Will Iskander recognize me if he saw me right now?
My fingers absentmindedly braided my hair as I recalled his last letter. A chuckle escaped from my lips. That Calim sure is a riot. I thought to myself, remembering Iskander's letter from a week ago, talking about the man's toddler-like tantrum when he found out about our marriage. He seems like a nice man. I hope I get to meet him someday. My fingers stilled. Wait. Did I write him back? I tried to recall a moment in the past few days that I sat down to reply to his letter. Oh my god, I forgot. I need to write back. Setting my brush down on the boudoir, I rushed to the small desk in the corner of my room.
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