The Grand Duke's Soulmate-Chapter 583: The Days Before the Voyage

Four days passed swiftly after the meeting.

Gerhard Castle, once settled into its usual calmness, had gradually fallen into a state of restless movement.

Servants hurried along the corridors with armfuls of parchment and sealed letters. Messengers came and went through the gates at all hours, their horses barely given time to cool before being saddled again.

The armoury rang from dawn till dusk with the clang of steel being inspected, repaired, and fitted. Crates of provisions were counted, sealed, then counted again.

The storehouse was no less busy.

Sacks of grain and barley were hauled over broad shoulders, barrels of dried meat and salted fish rolled across the floor, and bundles of hardtack, herbs, and medicine packed tight into wooden chests, ready to be loaded at a moment’s notice.

Every task was expedited and pressed forward without delay, as though time itself were chasing its heels. Even the air seemed different—charged with urgency.

The departure was no longer a distant plan spoken of around a table.

It was happening.

Soon.

Eric sat at his desk, sorting through reports and checklists for the voyage.

Pages lay spread across the table—crew lists, supply counts, route drafts, port arrangements.

As Kyren was occupied with formal duties concerning the duchy, the responsibility for preparations had naturally fallen to him, the second-in-command knight.

"Come in," he called when a knock sounded at the door.

The moment it opened, a familiar face appeared in the frame—one that eased the tight knot in his chest without effort.

"Rachel. What is it, my dear?" he asked, the fatigue in his voice softening at once.

Her presence alone was enough to steal his focus.

She rarely interrupted his work, having long since grown accustomed to life beside a knight—more so, the second-in-command. She understood the weight of his responsibilities better than anyone.

"Nothing, really," she said gently. "I know you’re busy. I just thought I’d stop by and see you."

Eric paused, quill hovering above parchment.

Rachel approached and lingered by the desk, her fingers absent-mindedly tracing the edge of the wood.

He knew that habit well.

She missed him.

Without another word, he pushed back his chair and crossed the room. The moment he reached her, he slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her close, tucking her into his chest.

"I’m sorry," he murmured. "I haven’t given you much attention lately."

"I don’t mind," she replied softly.

"You do," he countered, tightening his hold. "I haven’t come home for four days. Of course you missed me."

He pressed a light kiss to her cheek, then another near her temple. Then another and another, trailing down towards her neck.

Rachel laughed under her breath.

"I think you’re the one who missed me more."

"Can’t help it," he said with a crooked grin. "Especially when I have such a beautiful and irresistible wife waiting for me."

She swatted his chest lightly as she pushed him away, though the warmth in her eyes displayed her amusement.

For a brief moment, the noise of the outside world faded away. It was just the two of them in a quiet setting.

Eric didn’t waste any time. He pulled her straight back into his arms, capturing her lips in a kiss heavy with longing.

And it didn’t stop there.

The kiss deepened, turning mischievous, bold—taking full advantage of the fact that she had come to him first.

"Stop it! You’re at work!" Rachel protested when their lips parted, pushing at his chest.

But the second-in-command knight didn’t budge. Her small resistance barely moved him at all.

"You didn’t say that the last time you came here..." he murmured near her ear, voice low. "And you know very well what we did... on the settee... at this desk... at—"

Rachel smacked his arm, harder this time.

"Lower your voice! Do you want everyone to hear and find out?" She glanced nervously toward the door before looking back at him, cheeks already flushed.

Eric snorted softly.

"I work myself to the bone every day. I could use a little ’encouragement’ to keep my spirit up. They can’t blame me for that," he said.

Her face burned hotter.

"You have no shame!"

He grinned, utterly unrepentant.

"You didn’t complain before," he said, leaning closer, eyes glinting. "Why so shy all of a sudden? Is it because you are now the chief lady-in-waiting?"

Rachel wriggled her shoulders to free herself from his grasp, then turned to the side, and this time Eric couldn’t hold her back. The pout on her lips clearly showed that his ’attempt’ had utterly failed.

"You really like to tease me!" she said. "You know very well that I accepted the offer only because His Highness the Grand Duke insisted—not because I wanted it."

Eric smiled and stepped forward, intent on soothing his wife.

"I know you didn’t. Who would know your heart better than me?" he said, taking her hand in his.

Rachel still wore a sour expression, her eyes side-glancing at him, though she didn’t reject his advance this time.

"My Rachel is a humble woman who never aimed for titles or positions. You are sincere, honest, and responsible—someone who would rather sacrifice herself to support the man she loves."

The praise drew a smile back to her lips, light yet enticing.

He turned her figure facing him, squeezed her hand, and met her gaze.

"I wasn’t teasing you," he continued. "I’m proud of you for who you are. And His Highness’s insistence on appointing you—right after the meeting—proves that he recognises your importance and talent, not simply your position as my wife."

Rachel’s smile widened, though she huffed lightly.

"You and your sweet talk... You really know how to melt a woman’s heart, Love Coach."

"Only your heart, my love." He bent and kissed her hand.

She hummed in acknowledgement, then her expression shifted, a solemn look settling in her eyes.

"I know you’re being supportive," she said softly. "It’s just that... I think Lady Jarr would have made a better candidate. She has been Lady Raychard’s lady-in-waiting from the beginning, and she’s a noble by birth."

"Hey..." Eric lifted her chin, guiding her gaze back to his.

"Lady Jarr is capable and exceptionally so with her knowledge of formality and her strong background. But she’s new here and doesn’t know Gerhard as well as you do," he said patiently. "You were already assisting His Highness and managing affairs long before any title was given to you. You earned this."

"Do you really think so?" she asked, doubting.

Helping informally and being officially appointed were vastly different matters. With authority came responsibility—real weight, and real consequence.

"It’s official now," Eric said firmly. "His Highness chose you. You answer directly to him. Who would dare complain about that? Besides, Sir Jarr told me his wife was relieved and happy about your appointment. The others feel the same. We wish to celebrate this, but unfortunately, there’s no time since we’re already overwhelmed with preparations."

Relief softened her features, a small smile forming—yet sadness still lingered beneath it.

"It just feels ironic," she murmured. "The chief lady-in-waiting has been appointed, but the lady she is meant to serve isn’t even here."

Eric patted her arm gently.

"Don’t worry. Lady Raychard will be back. We’ll bring her home, no matter what."

Rachel nodded, though hesitation flickered in her eyes.

It wasn’t doubt in Kyren or his men that troubled her, but the many uncertainties that lay ahead—those beyond planning or preparation.

The second-in-command frowned as he studied her troubled expression.

"Something is still bothering you," he said quietly. "What is it?"

"The voyage..." she admitted. "You haven’t sailed that far in years. I don’t even know when you’ll be back..."

Her voice trailed off as she lowered her head.

Eric pulled her into his arms, guilt flickering across his face.

"I’m sorry," he said softly. "I know I’ve put you through a lot. You delivered our second son while I was away on campaign. And even after I returned, I was rarely by your side."

He paused, overseeing her carefully.

"It must have been hard on you as well, while I was constantly pulled away by duty."

"It’s all right," Rachel replied. "I married you knowing who you are. I was prepared for this life."

Eric stared at his wife; something resolute rose in his chest. She had endured so much without complaint, and it didn’t feel fair to her or their children.

"If you want," he said at last, "I can speak to His Highness. I’ll ask to remain behind to fulfil my duties here and stay with you."

Rachel’s head snapped up, eyes widening in alarm.

"Don’t you dare!" she cried. "I wouldn’t allow it! Especially not if His Highness sails without you! With his temper, who knows what would happen in Semeta? He might raze the entire island to get his wife back!"

Eric burst out laughing.

"I knew you’d say that," he said, amused. "That’s my Rachel."

"He hugged her again, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

When he pulled back, his gaze remained on her—deep with affection and already shadowed by the quiet longing he knew the coming journey would bring. His calloused fingers brushed through her hair in a slow, the roughness softened by care.

"I can’t promise the journey will be smooth," he admitted. "There will be inevitable challenges. But I’ll do everything I can to return safely."

Rachel looked up at him, pride shining in her eyes.

"Now that’s the man I married."

He bent down, attempting to steal another kiss, but she stopped him midway.

"We are both on duty, Sir Knight. Behave yourself," she warned.

Eric’s eyes widened.

"What? I can’t even kiss my wife now that she holds a position?" he protested, half-teasing, half-sulking.

Rachel giggled.

"If you miss me that much, then come home today. The children have been asking for you," she said.

Eric inhaled slowly, images of his two sons—Ethan and Evan—filling his thoughts.

Evan, the youngest, was named by Anna herself and blessed by both Kyren and her... the memory only strengthened his resolve to see this expedition succeed.

But for now, his priority was his family. At least for today.

"Then I’ll finish quickly and come home with you," he said. "Give me a moment to wrap things up."

"Really?" Rachel’s eyes sparkled.

"Of course, my dear."

She nearly bounced with excitement, then quickly composed herself.

"Then I’ll have the servants prepare your favourite dinner! And we can take the children to the garden this afternoon!"

"We certainly can."

Eric returned to his desk, his expression turning serious as he sorted through parchments. A few quick notes, several signatures—then he nodded.

"That will do for today. Let’s go."

He returned to her side and took her hand. Together, they moved towards the door, sharing the same quiet anticipation of the day.

"By the way," Rachel began, "I meant to tell you—"

’Knock. Knock.’

The sound was sharp and urgent.

Eric groaned.

"What now?" he muttered.

Rachel only smiled knowingly. The title of second-in-command came with endless responsibility.

Eric opened the door with Rachel close behind him. Gerald stood there, visibly flustered.

"Sir Navin!"

"Yes, yes—I know," Eric said briskly. "It’s urgent. Just tell me what happened and where I’m needed."

The steward hesitated, then noticed Rachel and winced apologetically.

"My lady, forgive the intrusion," he said quickly. "But Sir Navin is immediately required at His Highness’s private library. There’s quite an argument, and it’s escalating."

"Who dares cause that?" Eric demanded. "Which knight?"

Gerald exhaled heavily.

"It would be easier if they were knights," he muttered.

Eric raised a brow. "Then who?"

Gerald glanced at Rachel instead.

"It’s the ladies," he said quietly. "Lady Meredith Jarr and Lady Emily Brooks."

Rachel stepped forward at once, concern flashing across her face. She exchanged a look with her husband.

Meredith, in particular, was known for her composure. What could possibly provoke her?

Straightening, she spoke decisively.

"I should come with you. If it involves them, it falls under my responsibility."

Eric nodded.

"Then let’s go."