Awakening Love Reborn to Be His Duchess (Elowen Hale) novel Chapter 22

Chapter 22 Wolves in the Courtyard

Finished

Elowen was watching the scene unfold with interest when Cassian’s voice broke in. “Would you like a chair, so you can enjoy the show properly?”

There was a teasing note in his voice, Elowen flushed and smiled awkwardly. “It’s not that entertaining…“

Cassian raised a brow but didn’t press her. Elowen offered quickly, “Shall we go back, Your Grace?”

Cassian gave a soft hum of agreement. Bran remained behind to deal with the boy. Marwen was carried off to Rose Hall.

Elowen stepped forward to push Cassian’s wheelchair. They walked in silence.

Back at the manor, Elowen suddenly heard a restrained cough. She looked down—and to her shock, noticed that Cassian’s lips had turned completely bloodless. Sweat dotted his forehead.

Til call for the physician!”

She turned to leave. Cassian caught her wrist. “Wait.”

Elowen looked at him anxiously. “Your health-”

“I forced myself to wake, Cassian said plainly. “I can stay conscious for a while… but not long.” Elowen nodded, worry in her eyes.

Suddenly, a thought struck her. She hesitated, then asked, “Your Grace, when you were unconscious… could you hear what people were saying around you?”

Night after night, she had laid beside him, murmuring all sorts of things–about her family, her past… even crying once or twice. She’d thought he would be comatose for a long time, so she hadn’t held back.

But now, with Cassian waking more and more frequently… it hit her. His body seemed much better. Even if he couldn’t open his eyes, maybe his mind had been aware all along.

What if he’d heard everything? That would be mortifying.

Cassian didn’t open his eyes. “No. I couldn’t hear anything Elowen wasn’t entirely convinced. “Really…?”

Cassian suddenly lifted a brow. “Did you say something to me?” Elowen choked and quickly looked away. ‘No… not really…

Cassian’s expression remained unreadable. “Help me to the bed.”

Elowen supported him gently, helping him to sit on the edge of the bed. Then Cassian said, “You’ll be managing the household starting tomorrow. Don’t ruin my estate.

Elowen straightened at once. “I won’t! I promise!”

Cassian said nothing more. He let go of her and lay back down. But Elowen could still feel the heat of his grip on her wrist. She looked down at the spot where he had touched her. Then looked toward the bed. Cassian had passed out again. From the exertion earlier, his collar had loosened slightly, exposing the

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smooth, firm line of his chest.

He’d broken a sweat. His skin gleamed faintly.

“Your Grace!”

Bran hadn’t entered the room yet, but his voice called out first, “How is His Grace?”

Startled. Elowen jumped, yanking her gaze away. She’d been staring so intently she hadn’t noticed anything else. Embarrassed, her ears turned bright red.

Without turning around, she replied, forcing herself to sound calm, “He’s… fallen asleep again.”

Fimohert

Thankfully, Bran was too focused on Cassian to notice her flustered state. He sighed, full of sorrow. “I thought His Grace was recovering…”

Elowen managed to pull herself together. “This means he is geuing better. He’s been waking more often. If we continue caring for him properly, he might fully recover someday.”

Bran nodded, visibly encouraged. “You’re right, Your Grace!”

He noticed the sweat on Cassian’s face and rolled up his sleeves. “You’ve worked hard enough today: Go rest. I’ll clean him up and take care of the rest.”

Elowen nodded. She glanced at Cassian one last time, then left for the next room.

While washing up, Elowen recalled that in her previous life, it had taken Cassian years to regain

consciousness.

This time, he’d already woken twice–and it hadn’t even been half a month since she arrived.

Why? Had he also woken briefly in the past life, but the news never left Duskmoor Manor?

No. That wasn’t it.

She remembered visiting the manor in the past Cassian had been in a wheelchair, his face far more gaunt and deathly pale than it was now.

If he had regained consciousness earlier, he wouldn’t have looked like that, which meant that this time… something had changed.

The variable was her.

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