The Duke's Bride

Eleanor’s POV

The chapel doors swung open, and every conversation inside came to an abrupt halt.

I stepped inside, my white wedding gown feeling far heavier than it looked. At the far end of the aisle, Duke Edward Alistair stood before the altar. He looked exactly like the man on the cover of the novel I remembered: handsome, composed, and almost entirely devoid of emotion. As though this wedding were nothing more than an inconvenient task he needed to get through before returning to work.

Dozens of eyes followed my every step. I didn’t need to hear the whispers to know what everyone was thinking. The topic of the day was obvious enough: The bride standing beside Edward should have been Isabelle Rose, not Eleanor.

When I reached him, Edward offered me his hand. I took it, then heard his low voice.

“You’re late.”

I turned to him. “By only a few minutes.”

“I hate waiting, even for a few seconds.”

“Then you’d better get used to it from now on.”

His gaze shifted to mine. For a moment, I thought he was about to reprimand me. Instead, Edward merely raised an eyebrow.

“I didn’t expect you to say something like that on our wedding day.”

“Neither did I expect to marry someone who makes such a fuss over a few minutes.”

“This isn’t an ordinary wedding, Lady Eleanor.”

“I know.” I met his gaze without smiling. “Which is why we should get this over with without making it any more troublesome than it already is.”

“I didn’t realize you were this kind of woman.” Edward paused before turning back toward the altar. “Very well. At least we agree on one thing.”

I nearly laughed at that. If only he knew how many things I wanted to avoid today, he might not have considered such a small agreement particularly meaningful.

The ceremony began.

I tried to focus on the officiant’s words, but whispers from the rows of guests occasionally carried far enough to disrupt my concentration.

“Shouldn’t Lady Isabelle be standing there?”

“I heard she disappeared last night. The Rose family must have had no other choice.”

“Poor Duke Alistair. He’s marrying the younger sister of the woman he loves.”

Without realizing it, I tightened my fingers around the bouquet.

Edward noticed.

“Don’t listen to them,” he whispered without turning his head.

I glanced at him. “I didn’t know you cared what I heard.”

“I simply don’t want you causing a scene in front of everyone.”

“Don’t worry, Your Grace. I have no intention of embarrassing you.”

“Good.”

“Besides, I’m sure you’re already embarrassed enough to be marrying me.”

This time, Edward actually turned to look at me. His gaze sharpened, but I didn’t take back my words.

Because I wasn’t that foolish Eleanor anymore.

“Is that what you think?”

“Isn’t that what everyone in this room thinks?”

“I’ve never asked for their opinions.”

“And yet, you haven’t denied it either.”

Before Edward could respond, the officiant instructed us to recite our wedding vows. He turned back toward the altar, and I followed his gaze.

Question after question was asked. Edward’s answers came steadily, without the slightest hesitation. When it was my turn, I drew a breath and recited the vows prepared for me.

I made no promise of love in my heart. I simply said the words necessary to get through the day.

As the ring slid onto my finger, one thought settled in my mind: in the novel, this marriage marked the beginning of Eleanor Genevieve Rose’s downfall. I had no idea whether the small changes I’d made would be enough to rewrite that tragic ending.

But I wasn’t about to surrender my life to a story that had never even given me the chance to choose.

“By the authority vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife.”

Applause immediately filled the chapel.

Edward leaned toward me, making it appear as though he intended to kiss me in front of the guests. But just as our lips nearly touched, he whispered, “We’re done here.”

I looked at him with a faint smirk. Neither of us paid much attention to the thunderous applause surrounding us.

“You sound as though you’ve just finished a council meeting.”

“At least in a council meeting, I can choose who’s sitting across from me.”

“And what about this marriage?”

“Apparently, I haven’t been so fortunate.”

I suppressed a small smile. “Don’t worry. Marrying you was never on my list of dreams, either.”

“Good. Then we won’t have to pretend to be happy.”

“Our first agreement, then.”

Edward straightened and offered me his arm to escort me out of the chapel. I accepted because every eye was still on us, not because I’d suddenly begun to feel close to him.

***

The reception was held in the grand hall of the Alistair estate. Guests came and went, offering their congratulations, some with warm smiles and others with a curiosity they made no effort to hide.

Edward stood beside me, answering their questions politely and briefly. Whenever someone brought up Isabelle, his expression remained unchanged. However, I began to notice that he always ended the conversation before my sister’s name could be discussed at length.

Until an elderly nobleman stopped in front of us.

“Quite the unexpected wedding, Duke. I was certain Lady Isabelle would become the Duchess of Alistair.”

“Plans changed,” Edward replied.

“Just like that? I heard Lady Isabelle didn’t even leave her family a proper explanation before disappearing.”

“If you wish to discuss Lady Isabelle, I suggest you speak to her family. You’ve come here today to attend my wedding.”

The man’s smile stiffened. He quickly apologized before moving away.

I turned to Edward. “Do you always speak to your guests like that?”

“Only the ones who don’t know when to stop talking.”

“At least you have a talent for making people shut up.”

“And you have a talent for making them keep talking.”

“What do you mean?”

“Since we left the chapel, you’ve had a sharp reply for everyone who’s stared at you for too long.”

“They look at me as though I’ve deliberately stolen something from my own sister.”

“That’s what they believe.”

I studied him for several seconds. “And what do you believe?”

Edward didn’t answer immediately. He accepted a glass from a passing servant but didn’t take a sip.

“I believe Isabelle made her own choice.”

“And me?”

“You accepted this marriage.”

“Because my family asked me to,” I shot back.

“Ultimately, you still said your vows at the altar.”

I let out a quiet sigh.

Of course.

To him, everything was as simple as a choice already made and an obligation that needed to be fulfilled. He didn’t need to know that if I’d refused, something would have ensured I never got another chance at life.

“Then we’re the same,” I said. “You married me out of obligation. I married you because I had no better choice.”

Edward studied me longer than he had before.

“You’re very different from what I imagined.”

“Is that a compliment?”

“Not necessarily.”

“Then I’ll take it as something other than an insult.”

Before he could reply, a young man in a dark suit approached us. He bowed to Edward and whispered that someone from the Alistair family office was waiting to discuss documents that needed to be signed that evening.

Edward frowned. “Now?”

“They said it can’t be postponed, Your Grace.”

Edward muttered a curse under his breath, barely audible. Then he turned to me.

“I have to step away for a moment.”

“Go ahead. I’m not about to run away from my own wedding reception.”

“Don’t leave the hall without informing a servant.”

I gave him a flat smile. “I’m your bride, not your prisoner.”

His jaw tightened.

“I simply don’t want any more trouble today.”

“Then stop treating me as though I’m the source of it.”

For a moment, we stared at each other. Then Edward was the first to look away.

“We’ll discuss this later.”

“Of course, Your Grace. We have three hundred and sixty-five days to get to know each other, don’t we?”

The words slipped out before I could stop them.

Edward immediately halted.

“What did you say?”

My heart gave a violent jolt. I quickly raised my glass and pretended to examine its contents.

“I said we have plenty of time to get to know each other. Our marriage has only just begun.”

His gaze didn’t soften.

“Don’t change your words, Eleanor. I heard you perfectly well.”

I forced a smile. “Perhaps you’re simply exhausted. Today must have been tiring for you.”

“Don’t change the subject.”

“Then what is it you want to hear?”

Edward leaned a little closer, near enough that no one else could hear his next words.

“How do you know the number of days?”

The blood drained from my face.

I’d never told him anything about the system. I didn’t even understand why I’d been sent back to my wedding day, let alone how the quest binding my life to this world worked. The number three hundred and sixty-five should have existed only in my own mind.

I looked at Edward, struggling to keep my expression calm.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

His voice wasn’t loud, but something beneath it made it difficult to breathe.

“Then you tell me first,” I countered. “Why did you react as though that number meant something to you?”

Edward froze.

For the first time since I’d met him, his composure genuinely cracked. He glanced toward the man who had summoned him earlier, then turned his attention back to me.

“Who told you about the agreement?”

I had no chance to answer before he seized my wrist, gripping it painfully tight, and whispered in a voice so different from his usual cold composure that I barely recognized it.

“Eleanor, what exactly do you know about my father’s death?”

***