ONE NIGHT STAND WITH HOT DUKE-Chapter 181: A new life

Noel stiffened.

Gordon lifted his head, looking at Demian with an expression that had now turned fully serious. "Your Grace..."

"I am not speaking of forgiveness," Demian went on without looking at them. "I am speaking of debt."

He turned. The air around him shifted pressing, making it harder to breathe.

"Vedssel still draws breath because I allowed it," he said coldly. "He and his clan still exist because I chose to look away."

He stopped directly in front of Gordon.

"So make sure this message is delivered."

His voice dropped, almost to a whisper and that was what made it terrifying.

"Refusal is not an option."

Gordon swallowed.

"If he refuses," Demian continued, "then it will not be only him who disappears."

The fire in the hearth crackled sharply, as if answering his words.

"His clan," Demian said calmly, "will be destroyed. Nothing left. No place to flee. No caravans. No names."

Noel clenched his fists. "Your Grace... that would mean—"

"It means I am no longer asking," Demian cut in. "I am informing."

He turned toward the window, toward the darkness outside Morvex.

"Witches understand one thing better than anyone else," he said flatly. "Consequences."

Gordon bowed deeply. "I understand."

He knew they all knew Demian was not bluffing.

This was not a momentary burst of anger.

This was a decision.

"Bring him back alive," Demian said at last. "Because I still require his answer."

He paused, then added without emotion:

"After that... his fate will depend on how quickly he helps me find Valerie."

Noel and Gordon dropped to one knee.

"The order will be carried out."

Demian did not look back.

Behind his calm exterior, one thought kept circling sharp and obsessive:

If Valerie chose to hide in the world of witches...then I will tear that world apart to find her.

And for the first time, even those closest to him began to wonder in silence whether Demian was still chasing the woman he loved, or moving toward a point where nothing would be able to stop him anymore.

A gentle wind swept across the green hill, carrying the scent of damp grass and fertile earth. The sky stretched wide above them pale blue, with thin clouds drifting lazily, as if the world here moved to a rhythm entirely different from Morvex.

Valerie stood at the crest of the hill, her dress fluttering softly. For a moment, she allowed herself to breathe without guilt, without demanding gazes, without stone walls that always made her chest feel tight.

Footsteps approached from behind.

Ethan stopped beside her not too close, not too far like someone who understood when to keep his distance. He drew a thick scarf from his arm and gently draped it over Valerie’s shoulders.

"It’s cold up here," he said quietly. "Not good for your health."

Valerie smiled faintly, though her breath left her in a long, heavy exhale. She didn’t refuse the scarf. Its warmth felt real simple, unforced.

"This is why I said," she finally spoke, still gazing at the green expanse below, "you shouldn’t have come with me, Ethan."

Ethan glanced at her. "I couldn’t."

Valerie turned. There was genuine concern in her eyes not for herself, but for the young man beside her.

"What if your father and mother start looking for you?" she asked. "You’re still the heir of a baronial house. Disappearing like this isn’t a small matter."

Ethan let out a breath that sounded more like exhaustion than regret. He folded his arms, staring into the distance.

"I know," he said honestly. "And that’s exactly why I couldn’t rest."

He looked back at Valerie, this time without a smile. "I couldn’t leave you alone with those witches."

Valerie chuckled softly not a joyful laugh, but the sound of someone long accustomed to being misunderstood.

"They’re good people, Ethan," she said gently. "They’re not what the court says they are. Not deceitful. Not cruel."

She lowered her gaze for a moment, then continued more quietly, "Here... they don’t ask me to be anything."

The wind rose again, tugging lightly at the scarf on her shoulders. Ethan watched it move then watched Valerie’s face, which for the first time in a long while did not seem tense.

"That’s exactly what frightens me," he replied honestly. "The world never allows anyone to be free without a price."

Valerie fell silent.

The words cut deeper than she expected.

She closed her eyes briefly, feeling the grass beneath her feet, the clean air filling her lungs. There was peace here but also something else. A faint vibration in her chest, like a subtle pull she couldn’t explain.

"If I go back," she said softly, almost as if speaking to herself, "I’ll only return to being a burden. Or a tool."

Ethan wanted to argue but the words were too honest to deny.

"I just want you to be safe," he said at last. "That’s all."

Valerie smiled, this time more sincerely. She looked at Ethan with warm, grateful eyes.

"I am safe," she said softly. "For now."

But deep within her, something stirred like a warning not yet given shape. As though the world she had left behind had no intention of letting her go so easily.

And somehow, without her realizing it...

Demian’s name crossed her mind quick, painful, then gone leaving behind a feeling she couldn’t explain, yet far too strong to ignore.

The soft rustle of tent fabric breaking open cut through the stillness of the hill.

"Valerie."

Lena stepped out from the largest tent in the camp. Her gray hair was braided simply, her eyes sharp yet warm the eyes of someone who had seen too much of the world to be easily surprised. A thin curl of smoke drifted out behind her, carrying the soothing scent of warm soup and spices.

"Dinner’s ready," she added, glancing briefly at Ethan. "Both of you. Night air falls quickly here."

Valerie opened her eyes and gave a small smile. "We’re coming."

Ethan nodded politely. "Thank you, Lena."

They walked down the hill together. The grass whispered beneath their steps as the sky began to change color blue fading into the orange of dusk.

At the center of the camp, a low campfire burned steadily, warm enough to comfort without drawing attention from afar. Several people sat in a loose circle, light laughter drifting through the air so unlike the calculated whispers of the court.

Lena took a wooden bowl and handed it to Valerie first. "You look paler this afternoon. Eat something warm."

Valerie accepted the bowl, the steam warming her face. "Thank you."

Ethan sat across from her, scanning the surroundings with a vigilance he couldn’t quite let go of. But when he tasted the soup, his shoulders relaxed slightly.

"This is... good," he said, a little surprised.

"Because it’s made to calm," Lena replied simply as she sat near the fire. "Not just the stomach but the mind."