The Villainess's Secret Bedroom Service
Chapter 65: Another Outing

Chapter 65: Another Outing

The following morning at the training grounds exhibited an unusual shift in routine. Unexpectedly, the Grand Duke, driven perhaps by a desire to break free from the confinements of his study, joined Logan in his customary regimen of exertion.

Their dynamic took on a new dimension as they engaged in a sparring match, sword against sword, the clashing of dull steel resonating amidst the crisp air. This venture seemed to serve a dual purpose—challenging Logan while providing the Duke himself with a reprieve from the paper-laden solitude that had lately consumed him.

Rosalie, meanwhile, took up her usual position on the central bench, ensconced with the comfort of a thickly woven blanket, an additional layer of warmth draped over her shoulders. With each passing day, the early mornings were marked by an incremental cooling, a tangible sign that September was gradually drawing to its close.

Rosalie’s gaze was riveted upon Damien, his sword yielding gracefully, and in that moment, she found herself enveloped by a genuine sense of awe and captivation.

In the novel, the Duke had been depicted as a preeminent swordsman, a virtuoso unmatched within the expanse of the Empire of Rische. The pages had woven tales of his inexorable victories, starting from his youthful triumphs at the tender age of ten. While Lady Ashter had perceived this portrayal as a mere semblance of narrative flourish, a device to confer an almost implausible potency upon the male protagonist, witnessing his swordplay firsthand evoked a sentiment altogether different—an experience that verged on the overwhelming.

"Wow... His fighting style is reminiscent of a beast, a strength that transcends mere humanity."

Damien’s resolve remained steadfast, his intent resolute in withholding mercy from his adversary. Each sweeping arc of his training sword marked the release of pent-up frustrations, channeling the entirety of his physical prowess into the demanding regimen. The rhythmic cadence of these actions managed to divert his attention from the internal emotional whirlwind that plagued his thoughts.

However, without fail, each time his gaze brushed against Lady Rosalie’s form, even incidentally, his agitated mind involuntarily retraced its steps to that vivid image of them together, ensconced on his study’s couch. This mental journey reignited his smoldering frustration, infusing his being with renewed intensity, and in response, his efforts intensified further. The surge of emotion propelled him to channel even greater strength into his actions, each movement brimming with an unspoken determination to quell the unsettling tempest within.

’I could not sleep a wink last night. I must extract my thoughts from this bewildering path and regain my composure.’

As the relentless tempo of the duke’s pace and the sheer force of his strikes pressed upon him, Sir Logan found himself faltering. His determination remained unwavering, teeth clenched in unwelcome submission to the challenge at hand. A stifled grunt escaped him, an echo of his struggle, as he doggedly intercepted each impending assault, his breath drawn in shallow gasps.

"Your Grace. Might we consider a brief break? The strain upon my blade seems perilously close to its limit."

With a single powerful motion, Damien shoved the man aside, compelling the knight to lose his footing and descend to the ground. Simultaneously, he dismissed his damaged training sword with a precise kick, the weapon skidding away. The apex of his sword hovered menacingly, its point aimed with precision at Logan’s exposed neck.

"Your protests serve no purpose. Resume your training; your punishment routine shall continue for an additional two hours. If your weapon is compromised, acquire a replacement."

As Rosalie observed such a heated battle, she could not help but notice Damien’s exceptionally bad mood.

’Why is he so grumpy today? He looks so angry and annoyed that I’m beginning to fear for Logan’s safety.’

In that instant, Rosalie’s gaze was diverted by the approach of Aurora, hastening toward her with a rectangular envelope clutched in her hand, the paper aloft and fluttering like a little white flag.

"Milady! You have received a letter dispatched from the Swan Palace!"

"Swan Palace? Then it must be Princess Angelica. What would she want from me so early in the morning?"

Accepting the letter from her maid’s hands, Lady Ashter embarked on a swift perusal of its contents, her delicate brown brows ascending in response to the information unveiled within its script.

’She wants to meet me before lunch? All of a sudden?’

She raised her gray eyes to Aurora, who was patiently waiting by her side, then nodded, and handed the letter back to her.

"Well, I guess we will have to go back to the mansion immediately. It looks like I am having another friendly date today."

***

When Rosalie concluded her grooming in anticipation of her forthcoming encounter with the princess, she departed her chamber, joyously striding toward the dining hall. Yet, her momentum was abruptly stilled by the sudden encounter with Damien, who was now returning from the training grounds.

In the presence of his perspiration-laden form and the unkempt state that attended him, a familiar reaction surged within her once again. She found herself in the thrall of his remarkable handsomeness, a charisma untouched by the telltale marks of a rigorous three-hour sparring session.

Damien, on the other hand, found himself taken aback by Rosalie’s atypically adorned appearance. This deviation from her customary attire only served to accentuate her innate beauty, rendering it even more captivating. Despite this, rather than being entranced by her appearance, a furrow etched itself onto his brow, his countenance marred by the unmistakable presence of irritation.

"Are you going somewhere again, Lady Rosalie?"

Her response was a casual nod, accompanied by an unconstrained smile directed toward the Duke.

"Her Highness Princess Angelica communicated her intention to pay a visit before noon, hence my prompt attire adjustment to prevent any delay on my part."

"I see."

The shadow that had previously clouded his countenance yielded to a newfound brightness, the transformation catalyzed by an imperceptible upturn of his lips.

"Regrettably, my schedule necessitates my presence at the Imperial Palace. Though I am not able to accompany you, I extend my good wishes for a delightful outing with Her Highness."

Observing the notable shift in both his countenance and demeanor, Rosalie’s brows lofted, her curiosity piqued by the conspicuous transformation.

’From glumness to a rather inexplicable air of contentment... Does he have mood swings or something?’

With an undertone of unmistakable enthusiasm, the duke vocalized his departure, excusing himself as he made his way toward his chamber. Simultaneously, Lady Ashter gravitated toward the dining hall, a palpable yearning for nourishment guiding her steps as she ventured to fulfill her own essential needs.

Nonetheless, just as she was about to enter the dining hall, her intentions encountered an unforeseen interruption—manifested in the form of the head butler hastening in her direction, a radiant enthusiasm illuminating his features.

"Lady Rosalie! Her Highness Princess Angelica has arrived to see you!"

In response, Rosalie’s eyes widened significantly, her astonishment nearly finding vocalization in an impending exclamation.

"Already?!"

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