The Duke's Bed Warmer

Alina woke in her west wing suite for the last time as Alina Ashworth. The morning light filtering through the curtains filled the room with a warm golden glow.

She lay perfectly still on the bed, letting the morning settle over her. To her surprise, she wasn’t nervous, nor was her heart racing. Instead, she felt completely calm and relaxed. To her, it felt like arriving at her final destination after walking a long and difficult road for months.

A soft knock broke the silence in the room. Elspeth opened the door and stepped inside. She had arrived yesterday for the wedding, and was already dressed in her best dress. She looked at Alina and smiled, though her eyes were misty.

"You’re awake," Elspeth said softly.

"I couldn’t sleep," Alina replied, sitting up. "Neither could you?"

Elspeth let out a small laugh as she walked towards her and closed the door.

"I kept lying in my bed, thinking about you in this castle getting married to a duke, and wondering when you grew up so much."

"No matter how much I grow up, I will still be your little girl," Alina replied.

Elspeth sat on the edge of the bed and took Alina’s hands. Her hands were calloused from working for so many years that she had lost count.

"If your mother had been alive...she must have been sitting exactly where I’m sitting. She would probably be saying something wise about love and courage and following your heart."

She laughed at her memory.

"I’m not as wise as she was...so I’ll just say what I know," she said and took a deep breath. "You deserve this and so much more, Alina. You are the most beautiful, kindest and strongest woman I know. You walked into this hostile castle with nothing, and you built a life out of it. No one else could have done it, Alina."

Alina felt tears sting her eyes.

"Elspeth..."

"No, don’t cry yet," Elspeth said, wiping her tears away. "We haven’t even put the dress on."

They both laughed together. Then Elspeth helped her into her wedding dress. After helping her with the dress, Elspeth stepped back and stared at her. The dress looked like it was waiting for this day. She wore her mother’s locket around her neck and the blue pin Austin had gifted her in her hair as well .

Elspeth’s chin trembled slightly as she pressed her hand over her mouth, unable to speak.

"Is it that bad?" Alina teased.

"You look exactly like your mother," Elspeth whispered. "She wore red at her wedding too. She told me once that Arcasedian women wore red when they made a choice that no one could change."

Alina closed her eyes and put her hand over her heart where she had sewn a piece of fabric from one of her mother’s dresses into the lining.

"Then...I chose the right colour."

"You did," Elspeth replied and pulled her into a tight hug. "I know I keep saying this...but I want to tell you again that I’m so proud of you."

Spring had turned the east garden into a magical realm. Lavender was in full bloom, looking like a sea of purple waves swaying in the gentle breeze. Wild roses and jasmine climbed the wooden arch, filling the air with sweet fragrance.

The rows of chairs were occupied by the people who were important to them, instead of the nobles. Elspeth sat in the very front row, her hands folded tightly in her lap and eyes red.

Marguerite and the women of the sewing circle sat next to Elspeth, feeling emotional as well. Maren sat a few rows back, scanning the crowd carefully out of habit. Harrington stood at the back with his hands clasped behind his back, looking professional, but blinking more than usual.

Cecily sat at the piano near the jasmine arch, wearing a light blue dress, her hair pinned back making her whole face visible. Her hands rested on the keys as she patiently waited for Alina to enter.

And waiting at the center of the aisle was Austin.

He wore a formal dark coat, his hair pushed back. His hands rested at his sides and he stood perfectly still.

When Alina appeared at the edge of the aisle, he forgot to breathe.

Cecily began to play. She had decided to play Alina’s mother’s lullaby as she knew how much it meant to her. The notes were not perfect, even uneven in a few places. Her performance was not a polished recital one would expect at a duke’s wedding. But it was full of emotion and love she had for the two of them.

Alina walked down the aisle alone, her dress shimmering in the sunlight. The lavender brushed against the hem of her dress as she walked. And suddenly the garden around her vanished.

She found herself sitting in a black carriage, rain falling on the windows. On her lap was a contract that she’d been reading again and again looking for a way out.

Then the castle appeared.

"Miss Ashworth, the duke is unavailable tonight."

She remembered reaching his room, changing into an almost transparent nightgown, finding his love poetry book and then running back to bed when she heard his footsteps.

She remembered Austin ignoring her, and her spending the night staring at the canopy above. The gray dress in the morning, the leftover meals, and a room that felt like prison.

She blinked and returned to the present. She was walking in the same garden where she had once sat alone on a bench because nobody would speak to her. But the circumstances were totally different now. Because she had changed them.

The girl in the carriage was shaking with rage, feeling powerless because of a contract. That girl had stepped into this castle with nothing but a bag and a stubborn refusal to break.

But the woman walking in the red dress had made that hostile castle her home. And somewhere along the way, the cold duke she had been sold to as a bed warmer had become the love of her life.

The man waiting for her at the end of the aisle was no longer the distant stranger who had barely looked at her on their first night. He was the man who left notes for her, who listened when she spoke, who stood beside her when the world turned against her, and who loved her so much that she never had to question it.

Finally, the journey that had begun with a contract was ending today, and the life that had begun with love was waiting for her at the end of the path.