The Duke's Bed Warmer

It had been three days since Alina had been carrying Cecily’s name inside her chest like something too heavy to swallow.

After reading her note, she had gone back to her room fell without saying a word and had stared at the wall for an hour. Her thoughts had spiraled endlessly, unable to process what she had just got to know.

Cecily is alive? She has been alive for five years? And Austin sealed her in the east wing and told the world she was dead.

She had so many questions to ask him.

Why? How could you? Does she hate you? Do you hate her? Why would he do that to her own sister?

The questions hovered on the tip of her tongue every time she looked at him. But she had made a promise to Cecily that she wouldn’t talk to anyone about her. So she said nothing and began to live a double life.

Next day, she had tried asking Cecily about the fire but she had refused to talk about that topic, and Alina didn’t push.

Every evening, when she was done with the sewing circle, she went to the east wing, bringing something delicious from the kitchen for her.

Today, it was a lemon tart.

"You’re early," Cecily said.

"I brought a lemon tart," Alina replied. "The cook was threatening to throw it out."

"Priorities."

Alina smiled and slid the tart inside from a small side window.

"What do you do all day?" Alina asked, sitting against the wall.

"I read. I play. I watch the garden from the window and...I count things."

"What things?"

"Birds, clouds, the the guards’ rotations. The number of times you visit the east garden."

Alina froze. She looked around and noticed a window above.

"You can see the garden from here?"

"I can see everything from my here," Cecily replied. "I’ve been watching this castle for five years."

"Woah. I had no idea," Alina replied. "Does... His Grace visits you?

Cecily didn’t answer. Alina thought she might not be comfortable talking about Austin.

"Every day for two minutes," Cecily replied. "He stands on the other side of the door but doesn’t speak. Sometimes he puts his hand on the door, and sometimes he just breathes. Then he leaves."

Alina softly pressed her fingers on the door.

"Do you want to be visible?" she asked.

"I don’t know," Cecily replied. "I’ve been invisible for so long... I don’t remember what visible feels like. Does it hurt?"

Alina exhaled. Images of whipers in corridors, pitying looks, accusations flickered in her mind.

"Yes," she replied. "It hurts. But being invisible hurts more."

Cecily didn’t reply for a very long time and Alina thought the conversation was over.

"The tart is good," Cecily spoke.

"Evelyn made it. I’ll tell her you liked it."

"You can’t," she said. "No one can know about me."

"Then I’ll tell there is a ghost in the east wing that has excellent taste."

Cecily laughed.

"I have to go now," Alina said, standing up. "Same time tomorrow?"

"Same time, and bring more tart."

She brushed the dust from her dress, and walked back towards the main castle.

The next day, Maren sent her a message saying she wanted to train Alina in cipher analysis after seeing her potential.

Alina had assumed training meant observing Maren work standing is the corner and taking notes, but she was mistaken.

"Sit," Maren said, sliding a cipher across the desk. "Solve it."

Alina’s eyes widened.

"This is..."

"A polyalphabetic substitution with a rotating key. Intermediate level. You have thirty minutes."

"The manual says..."

"Begin."

Twenty minutes later, Alina pushed the solved cipher back across the desk. Maren reviewed it and nodded in approval.

"Faster than I expected."

"I have a good teacher," Alina smiled.

Maren smiled back and pulled out a file.

"About our investigation, I’ve traced two handlers to an Aldmere financial intermediary. It manages trust accounts for several noble families."

"Including Audrey’s?"

"Including Audrey’s with six others. The connection is suggestive, not conclusive," Maren closed the file. "Now tell me...why are you distracted?"

"I’m not," Alina replied, almost defending herself.

"I can see it on your face."

Alina hesitated.

"What do you know about the east wing?" She asked.

"What Austin has told me."

"And what has he told you?"

"That it is under renovation and restricted for safety purposes."

"And you believe him?"

Maren looked at her, her face completely still.

"Yes."

Alina knew she was lying. But she let it go. There was no way the spymaster wouldn’t know Austin was hiding his sister there.

"Your cipher work is impressive," Maren said, changing the topic. "Same time next week and bring your own pencils. You keep stealing mine."

Alina stood and grabbed her manual. She was about to turn but then stopped.

"Maren?"

"Yes?"

"If someone had been alone for five years in a room with nobody to talk to. What would you recommend?"

"I would recommend someone who talks as much as you do," she said dryly. "It would be either therapeutic or homicidal. Either way...progress."

Alina laughed and left.

In the afternoon, Marguerite rushed into the garden, breathless, carrying a letter.

"The quartermaster sent this," she said. "Read it."

Alina unfolded the paper,

The revised collar design has been approved for integration into the standard military uniform pattern.

Credit: East Garden Workshop, Ravenmoor.

Lady Brennan read the letter over her shoulder, and her eyes filled with tears.

"We’re in the military records," she whispered. "No one in my family has ever had their name in any official record. But I have mine."

Everyone was happy, overjoyed at the news, when the garden gate opened and Audrey entered.

"Good news?" She asked, looking at the letter in Alina’s hands.

"The collar design has been officially approved."

"How wonderful." Audrey smiled. "You must be proud. This whole workshop is your creation. From the first afternoon in this garden to military approval. That’s remarkable, Alina."

"It’s because of the effort of every woman here."

"But they only worked because you gave them a place to," Audrey replied. "Austin must be pleased."

Alina looked at Audrey, observing her warm smile and sincerity. She had framed her for treason, and now she was complimenting her work. Alina couldn’t understand her and wasn’t sure she even would.

That evening, Alina challenged Austin to a game of chess. She hadn’t spoken to him directly; she had looked at him across the great hall, raised her eyebrow, and tilted her head slightly towards the gaming room. He had nodded in response.

Later, they sat across the board, and he set the pieces using his both hands. His shoulder was better now.

"I heard about Lady Pemberton and the kitchen girl," he said.

"Her name is Lily. She is Evelyn’s cousin."

"Mr. Harrington reported that you intervened and you bandaged the girl with fabric from your own dress."

"Yes. Because no one else was helping her."

Alina moved a pawn, and he followed.

"You’re different...these days," he said, looking at the board.

"Different? How?"

"More..." He moved his bishop. "Present."

"I’ve always been present."

"No. Something has changed."

She took his bishop. He hadn’t guarded it, which was unusual for him.

"Maybe I found something worth being present for."

He looked at her as if assessing her. Then, without warning, he took her queen. She hadn’t seen it coming, too busy watching him watch her.

"Checkmate."

"Damn it."

"You left your king exposed."

"Story of my life."

He reset the board, and they both reached for the same pawn. Their hands brushed and the memory of their hand-hold flashed through their minds.

Austin cleared his throat and pulled back. The pawn stayed between them, untouched. Neither of them reached for it again. She stood first.

"Let’s play another day."

"Sure."

She stepped into the corridor and let out a quiet breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. Inside, he did the same.

"Focus," he muttered.