The Duchess Cast Novels & Stories

Missing him pulls at my chest like a quiet ache, though knowing he’s away brings relief. We are presented. “His Grace, Duke Noah Wingknight of the Northern Reaches, and Her Grace, the Duchess Paige.” Quiet hangs heavy. After a breath, voices rise - sharper now, buzzing with heat instead of calm. Here they arrive. Curious ones first. Then those who mean trouble. Followed by quiet plotters slipping in behind. “Duchess, we heard such tales of your… resilience in the North. How… rustic it must be.” A lady with sapphires in her hair.

At the same time, Heath made a mental note of their faces, voices, and names. But suddenly... CLICK! CREAK...! “The Duchess of Almandine, with her beloved twins, Young Lord and Lady of Almandine, had arrived.” She wore a black party dress. Even though it was modest, it was still festive and elegant. Beside her were her children, wearing blue outfits, holding her hands. It was her, the Duchess they knew, and the Duchess they were talking about. She looked around, feeling the vibe of the room; her face was half-covered with a transparent black silk veil. Confused, she asked, “Isn’t this supposed to be a party?”

That thought alone feels like victory. I yawn once more, deliberately slow, and step into the hall. If I rise earlier than the rest, I can at least savor the silence of the castle. I know well that Tremaine and her daughters stayed up late last night, their voices carrying shrill through the stone as they quarreled over gowns and jewels. It’s always the same: gloves or no gloves, pearls or rubies, what shade of fabric might catch the eye of a prince. They place their futures in threads and lace, as if kingship were sewn from silk. And yet I cannot understand it—their obsession with princes. As though clothing could conjure love or power. As though love itself were ever a guarantee in palaces

When the Duke remained lost in thought, he continued, “Sir Lucas was a very shrewd businessman, Your Grace.” “So it would appear. So each of these girls is an heiress in her own right?” This time, Mr. Bailey nodded decisively.

She was informed by a maid. "Thank you very much; I shall proceed down myself." The Duchess rose from her chair and made her way downstairs toward the grand hallway. Duke Raphael strode into the palace with the seven men who had been following him behind him. "Go and summon the princess here. I wish to see her here," The servants were ordered by the duchess. A short while later, the princess walked downstairs, chatting and giggling with her maids, "I despise that piano...", But when she saw the duchess, she came to a halt.

But by the time she came to know of his hidden agenda, it was already too late. And in all this drama, Mirabel who was playing the role of Patricia was the sworn-to-be devoted maid of Lady Penelope who stood at the center of sending and delivering messages between the two. At the end of the story, the Duke found out about everything that has been transpiring with his wife and the noble, Mr. Rodriguez, he was pissed and angry with this, as the rule may have it. The Duchess was to be killed by being buried alive for having an affair outside her marriage and while the man she was cheating with was to be slaughtered in the town square.

Hertia asked Zena many questions after he was cleaned and dressed. "Now, Duchess is sleeping in the room, she can't sleep these days because of the rumors the other nobles are spreading. She's afraid that Duke will be angry about it, so she can't sleep because she keeps thinking about it." Zena left Hertia with dirty clothes in her hands. Hertia looked at he appearance in the mirror; now he looked better than when he entered the residence earlier. He looked terrifying, covered in blood, and with dishevelled hair, like a cold-blooded monster.

"Well, yes. That's for a human's perspective. But for us-a noble or a mythical creature as what human history says-it's natural. We can live for millennia and tens and hundreds of it, not aging. We can even enter eternal slumber if we want to. "But that's not always the case. Sometimes, one can enter a force eternal sleep if they committed a crime that is too grave beyond comprehension and the risk being known to the world is high or they took offense to the humankind that we're supposed to take care." -Cassielle Elise D. Dairen, the daughter of the duke, Clyde Estreno D. Dairen. The unknown duchess.

It is not like it would not happen in the future, so what a better way than to do it now. "It is a pleasure to fight with you again, Duchess," Gia smiled as she saw the serious expression on the face of Emma. She thought she was having a hard time now hearing the voices of the crowd. "Duchess?" "She is… a silver-haired woman… the Duchess is also a silver-haired…" "Oh my!" "She is a Luriem, a witch!" "But she is the Duchess!" "How disgusting!" "Get her out!"

"She really wants to help us out, David." "I'm sorry, I can't even wrap my mind around it," David said. "Why doesn't the Duchess pick a man and be done with it? A man can play the role too, and it would make more sense." "Dad," Clare spoke up. "I think you haven't heard about her yet. Well, I don't know much about her either, but rumor has it that Violet Wintour is quite a notorious lady charmer." "Oh, perfect," David said, dropping his fist on the table in disbelief.