How To End This Marriage-Chapter 176: The Duchess’s Burden

"Did you hear?" the maid asked another, leaning in conspiratorially.

"What?" the other maid replied, raising an eyebrow.

"The noises coming from the duchess’s room last night," the maid answered with a knowing smirk.

"Oh, that! How could I not? It’s all anyone can talk about in the palace," the other maid chuckled.

"But I still don’t understand. If the duke wanted to return to the room, why did he order his things moved when he could have just stayed there?" the first maid pondered.

"No idea," the other maid shrugged, "but judging from the sounds, they must have been quite passionate last night. The duchess’s voice kept carrying out."

"I know, right? I never imagined her like that. She always seems so... cold. But after last night, I’m convinced she truly loves the duke," the first maid added, whispering dramatically.

Suddenly, the guard of the duchess’s room appeared, his face stern. "What are you two gossiping about? Do you know the consequences if the duke or duchess heard a word of this? You want to lose your jobs?"

"No, no! It just slipped out," the maids stammered, fear creeping into their eyes.

"And entering the room like this? What if they’re..." the maid began, but was cut off before he could finish.

"I will inform the duke. Wait here." He gave them a pointed look and then knocked on the door.

"Duke, the maids are here to help prepare the duchess. Shall I send them in?" the guard asked politely.

"Let them in," came a muffled voice from within.

Hesitantly, the maids entered the room to find Duke Alexavier emerging from the bath, a towel barely hiding his damp form. Duchess Bernice sat before the mirror, glaring at him from the reflection, her own hair still damp and clinging to her shoulders.

"I apologize for any intrusion, duchess," one of the maids bowed deeply. "We wouldn’t want to interrupt your... time."

"Nonsense," the duchess said curtly, gesturing for them to come closer. "Continue with your duties." Her eyes, however, remained fixed on the duke through the mirror, a storm brewing within.

With a nervous glance at both of them, the maids began their work, their silence pregnant with the knowledge they shouldn’t have. As they gently applied makeup, their fingertips brushed against the faint marks on the duchess’s neck, remnants of the night’s passion.

"Let me," the duchess snapped, snatching the concealer from the table before the maid could offer.

A blush crept up the maid’s face as she stepped back. "Of course, duchess. We are here to serve, after all. Just let us know if there’s anything we can do better."

The duchess remained silent, her jaw clenched as she worked to mask the evidence on her skin.

"It’s just a mosquito bite," Duchess Bernice declared, trying to hide the flush creeping up her neck.

"We understand, Duchess," the maid replied calmly, her voice devoid of judgment. "There’s no need to explain yourself to us. We’re here to serve, not pry into your personal affairs."

The Duchess pressed, "But I said it’s nothing." 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝒆𝒘𝙚𝓫𝙣𝙤𝒗𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢

The maid’s calm demeanor only fueled the Duchess’s frustration. "As you wish, Duchess," she said simply, her tone neutral.

Panic surged through the Duchess. "Everyone knows what happened last night? How could I possibly show my face? They’ll stare, whisper, speculate..."

"We’re done, Duchess," the maid announced, bowing slightly. "We’ll bring your breakfast shortly." As the door opened, Princess Sylvia entered, her smile barely contained.

"Duchess, is it true?" Sylvia asked, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.

The Duchess turned away, "What are you talking about?" she feigned ignorance.

"Don’t play coy, Duchess," Sylvia chuckled. "I know what you’re trying to hide. Your sweet voice echoed throughout the palace until dawn. It’s the talk of the town now."

The Duchess’s cheeks burned. "What are you implying?"

"It’s exactly what you think," Sylvia teased. "Your passionate cries reached every corner. Now, everyone knows about your night with the Duke. You can’t deny it anymore."

"Please, keep your voice down!" the Duchess hissed, covering her mouth with her hand.

"Shameful? Since when is expressing love for your husband considered shameful?" Sylvia challenged.

"It wasn’t love," the Duchess stated firmly.

"Not love? Are you serious, Duchess? You were calling his name all night, and you claim it’s not love? Then what is it? You’ve been married for over a year, and this is the first time you’ve acted like husband and wife, and you say it’s not love?" Sylvia’s voice held genuine confusion.

"Princess, not all marriages are born of love," the Duchess admitted. "Some are for convenience, and that’s what ours is."

Sylvia’s brow furrowed. "I don’t believe that. The way Duke Alexavier looked at you, it wasn’t just convenience. Even when you were missing, he searched for you relentlessly. Despite our differences, I saw a side of him that contradicts his reputation. He didn’t kill my people out of pleasure; he was manipulated by the Emperor, who is controlled by the Supreme God’s power."

The Duchess scoffed. "He’s a battlefield demon. What can you expect?"

"He may be a warrior, but the man I saw that day wasn’t a cold-blooded killer. His family’s sword, imbued with their spirit, even abandoned him. There’s more to him than meets the eye, Duchess."

"Noxua is gone?" Duchess Bernice uttered, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Noxua? You mean the Duke’s sword?" Tribal Princess Sylvia asked, tilting her head in curiosity.

"Yes," Bernice replied, her grip involuntarily tightening. "Its name is Noxua, just like the holy sword is Erios."

"Noxua is indeed gone," Sylvia confirmed. "I witnessed the scene unfold before my eyes. When the Duke, under the Supreme God’s control, struck down the tribal people, the sword rebelled. It transformed, taking the form of a sorrowful deity. Though I couldn’t hear their conversation, the Duke’s anguish at losing Noxua was palpable."

Bernice narrowed her eyes. "You must be mistaken."

Sylvia frowned. "Mistaken? Why would you doubt everything I say about the Duke, Duchess?"

Bernice’s voice grew tense. "Because you haven’t grasped the truth."

"The truth? What do you mean?" Sylvia pressed, her confusion deepening.

"If you truly wish to know, then listen carefully." Bernice took a deep breath, preparing for the weight of her words. "I have died twice, and neither time did he save me."

"My first death came at the hands of his mother, the duchess before me, falsely accused of a crime committed by another. While my head rolled in the dust before thousands, he dallied with Princess Vixara, oblivious to my suffering."

"The second time, fate bound us again in marriage. Yet, he was a ghost in our bedchamber, leaving me alone in the echoing darkness. When assassins crept in, their blades found me alone, my screams swallowed by the night. I closed my eyes, blood staining the marble floor, my life snatched away once more."

As Bernice finished her tale, her voice echoed with raw pain. "Can you understand my suffering? Still, you expect me to trust him again? Why? To die once more by his hand?"

Sylvia, deeply affected by the Duchess’s story, flinched. "But how... how could you remember all this if you died?" she stammered.

Bernice shook her head, her own bewilderment surfacing. "I don’t know why. But I must remember, I must survive. I won’t let the cycle repeat. I will find salvation."

Suddenly, Sylvia gasped, her own voice trembling. "I... I have recurring dreams. I’m in a strange, cloudy place, people call me princess... they wear unfamiliar clothes."

Her eyes widened. "Do you think... could it be connected?"

Bernice’s gaze sharpened. "I’m not sure, but finding answers is crucial. We both need a way to break free from this cycle of pain."

Sylvia’s tears welled up. "I’m so sorry, Duchess. I had no idea you carried such burdens. I was insensitive, I didn’t understand."

She wiped her eyes, her resolve hardening. "I will help you, Duchess. Even if it costs my life, I will be your shield."

A strange echo resonated in Bernice’s mind, "I will save you... even if it costs my life."

"Just now, didn’t you say the same thing?" she asked, a shiver running down her spine.

Sylvia, bewildered, echoed her confusion. "I... I might have. But I don’t remember when."

Bernice’s expression hardened. "Keep this secret, Princess. No one must know."

Sylvia nodded solemnly. "Your secret is safe with me."

As Tribal Princess Sylvia took her leave, Duchess Bernice remained lost in thought.

"Clouds? Unfamiliar attire? Places unlike any I’ve known? Could it be... the heavenly realm?" Bernice mused, a tremor of possibility sparking within her.

But doubt quickly followed. "No, I can’t afford to jump to conclusions. If my suspicions are true, then her identity holds immense significance. Who is she, and how did she learn of the Supreme Lord’s ring? Everything feels inextricably linked."

With newfound resolve, Bernice summoned Erios, the holy sword, its radiance filling the room. "Erios, I require your wisdom and insight. Lend me your guidance in unraveling these mysteries."

"My master, I am at your service," the sword hummed, eager to be of aid.