ONE NIGHT STAND WITH HOT DUKE-Chapter 146: Not your escape

The words were spoken without raised tone, without an outburst of emotion. And precisely because of that, they felt heavier more honest. Like a confession that slipped out before it could be restrained.

Valerie slowly turned back.

Demian was standing very close now. His eyes were fixed on her, dark and chaotic, as though even he did not know whether what he had just said was a plea or a confession of sin.

"I don’t know how to explain everything," Demian continued, his voice rough. "I don’t know how to resolve this tonight. But I know one thing."

He tightened his hold on Valerie’s fingers slightly, as if afraid that if he let go now, she would truly leave.

"I want you. Not because of a bond. Not because of duty. But because you are the only thing that feels real to me right now."

Valerie swallowed.

"What do you want from me, Demian?" she asked quietly. "If you can’t choose?"

Demian fell silent. The question was too precise to answer quickly.

"I just..." He exhaled, his forehead nearly touching Valerie’s. "I just want you to stay here tonight."

Not an order.Not a promise.Just a fragile request.

Valerie closed her eyes for a moment. Inside her chest, her heart waged war with logic, with fear, with every word she had just spoken herself.

"I don’t want to be your escape," she said at last.

"You’re not an escape," Demian replied quickly. "You’re my reason for holding on."

Valerie opened her eyes.

For a brief moment, she saw Demian not as a duke, not as a man bound to a dark past but as someone afraid of losing the only place where he felt at home.

She drew a slow breath.

"Then," she said softly, "let me go if one day I become the thing you have to sacrifice."

Demian did not answer with words.

He only gave a small nod almost imperceptible, yet heavy with meaning. Then he pulled Valerie into his embrace, tight yet careful, as if afraid of hurting her or of losing his own courage.

Valerie leaned against his chest.

In the silent corridor of the castle, they stood without speaking two people who knew the storm had not passed, yet chose to shelter for a moment in the warmth that remained.

That night solved nothing.

But for the first time, they stopped running.

And sometimes, that alone is enough... to survive one more night.

Morning arrived without any loud sound only pale light creeping in, brushing softly against Valerie’s eyelids, offering no room to linger between sleep and wakefulness.

She woke up.

Almost instantly, Valerie sat upright. Her breathing was slightly shallow, as if something in her chest demanded to be released at once. She turned her head to the side.

Demian was still asleep.

His face looked different in rest no trace of a duke’s severity, no weight of decisions, no gaze that always seemed ready to challenge the world. Just someone who was tired. Deeply tired.

Valerie looked at him a few seconds longer than she intended to.

Then she stood.

Her stomach felt unsettled not pain, but a strange fullness mixed with mild nausea and an urgent need for fresh air. She did not want to wake Demian. Not this morning. Not with her thoughts still so heavy.

After a brief preparation, Valerie stepped out of the room.

The castle was already alive.

As she entered the inner courtyard, the world greeted her with a rhythm she had almost forgotten. The sound of soldiers training rang clear metal striking metal, sharp and repeated commands. In the corridors, servants moved briskly, sweeping, wiping, arranging. From the kitchens drifted the scent of morning food bread fresh from the oven, broth simmering slowly. In the gardens, gardeners bent among dew-damp leaves, trimming and tidying as though the world could always be set right again each morning.

Valerie walked slowly.

Sera was at her side, loyal as ever, while Noel watched from a distance close enough to protect, far enough not to intrude.

It had been a long time since Valerie had seen a sight like this with such calm in her chest. A castle that breathed. A castle that lived. A castle that did not entirely feel like a prison.

She stopped by the edge of the pond.

The water lay still, reflecting the pale morning sky. Valerie stood quietly, letting the sunlight touch her face. Its warmth spread slowly, soothing her. For a moment just a moment she felt whole.

Then she turned.

And her breath caught.

Bianca stood not far from her.

Valerie let out a quiet breath, not from anger, but from weariness as though the peaceful morning had cracked again by the presence of someone who was never truly neutral.

"You’re up early, Valerie," Bianca said, her voice light, almost friendly.

Valerie gave a brief nod. "I didn’t expect you to be up early as well."

Bianca smiled faintly. "I work here now. Of course I wake up early."

Valerie did not respond. She simply looked at the water, keeping her distance in silence.

But Bianca did not stop.

"Valerie," she said again, more softly this time, "do you know that Lady Ivanka is ill?"

"I don’t know," Valerie replied without turning.

Bianca drew a small breath, as if making sure her next words would be heard. "She’s ill because of her bond with the duke."

Thud.

Valerie’s heart struck hard, a single beat that felt too real. Her fingertips turned cold. For a moment, the world around her the soldiers’ voices, the servants’ footsteps, the morning birdsong seemed to recede.

"What do you mean?" Valerie asked at last. Her voice sounded calm, though her chest was not.

Bianca turned to her, her gaze sharp yet controlled. "You don’t know about the bond between the duke and his lady?"

Valerie looked at her now. "I know there is a bond," she said slowly. "But I don’t know the details."

Bianca fell silent for a moment, then said, "It’s an old bond. Formed many years ago. Not the duke’s choice but a compulsion."

The word compulsion fell heavily.

"When the duke tries to sever it," Bianca continued, "the bond reacts. And Lady Ivanka bears the consequences."

Valerie looked back at the pond. Small ripples formed on its surface whether from the wind or from her faintly trembling hand, she did not know.

"Why are you telling me this?" she asked quietly.

Bianca did not answer right away. She glanced toward Sera and Noel, making sure they were far enough for this conversation. "Because you’re at the center of all this," she said at last. "And because you deserve to know the truth before others use it to pressure you."