"I think we should host a grand banquet," Orlando proposes, stepping forward slightly.
The Duke blinks, taken aback. "A banquet? For what possible reason?"
"On the surface, we can announce that it's to celebrate Eleanor's full recovery and return to health," Orlando explains, his eyes bright with conviction. "But beneath the surface, we use it as an opportunity to scout for a suitable partner. We will invite eligible, respectable bachelors from across the high-society circles, and let Eleanor interact with them. Give her the freedom to choose someone who is actually worthy of her."
The Duke strokes his chin, pondering the proposal for a long moment before letting out an approving hum. "Yes... that is actually a remarkably sound proposition. Leave it to me; I will look into the logistics and see how we can quietly arrange it. You don't need to worry about the details."
"Understood, Father. Then I will excuse myself and let you get back to work," Orlando says, offering a respectful nod before turning toward the door.
The Duke pauses, raising an eyebrow slightly at Orlando's sudden outburst. He leans back in his chair and crosses his arms.
"Have you heard the news, Orlando?" the Duke asks, his tone shifting to something more measured. "Word has reached us that he has finally come back."
Orlando's face darkens instantly, his fists clenching at his sides. "Yes, I have heard. That absolute jerk is back in the capital. Because of him and his ridiculous political posturing, I've had a mountain of extra administrative work piled onto my desk at the academy. Everything is a complete mess because of him!"
The Duke's eyebrows snap together into a hard frown, and a sharp, authoritative edge enters his voice.
"Watch your tongue, Orlando," the Duke scolds, fixing his son with a stern stare. "You are the heir to our Dukedom. How can you use such vulgar, unrefined words right here in front of me? Honestly, perhaps Eleanor was right earlier..it seems you need to be sent back to etiquette tutors to brush up on your manners. You've been acting far too brash and hot-headed lately."
Orlando flinches slightly, catching himself as the reality of his outburst sets in. He takes a quick breath, lowering his gaze. "Of course... I'm sorry, Father. I lost my temper. You know what kind of person 'he' is, so just hearing news of his return made my blood boil."
"Even so, you must learn to watch your temper," the Duke replies, his voice softening just a fraction, though the warning remains clear. "It is entirely unbecoming of a future Duke to let your anger show so plainly like that. You are my heir; you can never afford to lose your composure in public. You must master your emotions, not let them master you."
"Yes, yes, Father, I know you're right. I apologize," Orlando murmurs, rubbing the back of his neck. "Anyway... regarding Eleanor's situation, we should do something about it. But if that's all for now, I suppose I should take my leave."
As Orlando finally bows and moves to exit the room, the Duke's deep voice stops him once more.
"One more thing, Orlando," the Duke says quietly, leaning forward over his desk. "It seems... you've actually come to believe in losing her memories and change of heart , haven't you?"
Orlando freezes, slowly spinning back around with a bewildered look on his face.
"What do you mean by that, Father?" Orlando asks, his brow furrowing as he processes the question.
The Duke leans back against his high-backed leather chair, letting out a low, amused hum. "Think about it, Orlando. When Eleanor first woke up claiming she had lost all her memories from that accident, you were the first one to doubt her. You treated her every move with suspicion. But lately? It's entirely different. You've clearly opened your heart to her again. You're looking out for her, protecting her, and treating her like your actual younger sister once more. It's... good to see."
Orlando's cheeks flush faintly, and he looks away for a brief second. "Well... I suppose I don't have much of a defense for that. But you're right, Father. She acts completely different now—much more mature, grounded, and genuine. So yes, I believe in her change."
A warm, approving smile crosses the Duke's face. "That's good to hear, son. By the way, I heard the two of you went out for a stroll in the gardens today. How was it?"
"It was fine," Orlando replies, a faint, fond smile touching his own lips. "Actually... it was a surprisingly good experience."
"I see," the Duke nods. "Well, if you have nothing else to report, you're dismissed."
"In that case, I will excuse myself," Orlando says, offering another polite nod before turning and walking out of the study, quietly pulling the heavy oak door shut behind him.
Left alone in the quiet warmth of the study, the Duke sits back down at his desk. He stares at the flickering oil lamps, a soft, subtle smile playing on his lips. No one else in the room can read the exact thoughts running through his mind, but the quiet expression on his face suggests a deep, rare contentment—perhaps simply glad to see his children finally finding peace, or perhaps plotting something entirely different beneath the surface.
"Who is this mysterious figure they are whispering about, and why has his sudden return sent a shockwave of chaos and endless paperwork through the academy? Is he an influential noble, a political rival, or someone from Eleanor's past? And as the Valerius family rallies around her, plotting a grand banquet to rewrite her future, who will Eleanor or Sara ultimately choose?
Let's find out whose shadow is looming over the capital and how this unexpected return will turn everyone's world upside down in the next chapter!"