Awakening Love Reborn to Be His Duchess (Elowen Hale) novel Chapter 561

Chapter 561 A Convenient Collapse

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Fint hed

The hand gripping Iris tightened without warning, fingers digging in until a sharp jolt of pain cut through her numb arm.

The sting pulled something loose in her memory.

Back when she had been serving Daphne, there was a day Daphne pointed straight at her and tore into her for lacking proper decorum. Iris had been younger then, stubborn enough to talk back.

Daphne struck her across the face so hard her ears rang, then hissed, “Do you even understand your place? When His Majesty passes judgment, even the highest lord bows his head and accepts it. Whether he wants to or not.”

Now it was her turn.

She had been forced to stay like this for so long that her vision dimmed at the edges, her body swaying as if it might give out any second.

And still, Alaric had rushed over without a shred of concern for her condition, demanding, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, that she come up with a solution for him on the

spot.

“Your Highness… I…”

Her lips barely moved, her voice thin and scraped raw.

Alaric’s eyes lit up. He leaned in immediately, bringing his ear close to her mouth. “Say it.”

Iris let out a faint, uneven breath.

Under his eager stare, her strength seemed to drain all at once. Her body slackened, and she collapsed backward.

The excitement froze on Alaric’s face. He stared, momentarily blank, as if his mind had failed to catch up.

Tristan dropped into a crouch beside her and checked her breathing “Your Highness, she’s passed out.”

Alaric straightened sharply. “Pathetic”

Tristan swallowed whatever else he might have said.

Alaric paced, agitation rolling off him. “So what now? I’m supposed to go to my mother?”

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Chapter 561 A Convenient Collapse

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Tristan chose his words with care. “Your Highness, Her Majesty is both your mother and the head of the royal household. If anyone can smooth things over with His Majesty, it would be

her.”

That only made Alaric’s expression turn darker.

Not long ago, he had stood before her, speaking with absolute certainty, making bold claims he could not take back.

Tristan hesitated, then tried again. “Your Highness… she doesn’t look well at all. Should I bring in a court physician?”

“A physician?” Alaric snapped, irritation flaring. “She’s the one who messed up, and now she’s useless to me. What exactly would justify that kind of attention?”

His voice went cold. “Take her out of here. I don’t want to see her.”

Tristan quickly called in two guards. They lifted Iris’s limp body and carried her away.

Once the door shut and the footsteps faded, the room fell completely still.

On the bed, Iris’s lashes trembled ever so slightly.

Then her eyes opened. She had never actually lost consciousness.

Not long after Alaric returned to his study, Tristan stepped inside.

“Your Highness, she’s been settled. But… are you certain we shouldn’t have someone look at her? If anything happens to her in the Crown Prince’s Wing, it could become a problem.”

“What problem?” Alaric cut in sharply. “She’s been down for what, a few hours? She’ll live.”

His gaze narrowed as he looked Tristan over. “You’ve been unusually invested in her lately Speaking up for her again and again. What’s going on? You’ve taken a liking to her?”

Tristan went rigid and immediately lowered himself, pressing his head down in a deep bow “Your Highness, I would never dare. Truly. I only meant that she’s been useful to you. It something happened to her, you’d lose someone capable at your side. That’s all I swear, there’s nothing improper in it. Please believe me.”

Alaric let out a quiet, disdainful breath. “You’d better not. She’s just a servant Not worth this much concern.”

He moved back to his desk and sat down. “Do your job well, and when I get what I want, you won’t be forgotten. I’ll see to it you’re matched with someone suitable. Young, attractive, easy to live with, someone who knows how to take care of a household.”

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Tristan kept his head lowered. “Thank you, Your Highness.”

Alaric studied him briefly, then said, “You’re leaving the palace. Now. Go to Hale Manor.”

“Hale Manor?” Tristan looked up before catching himself.

“Yes,” Alaric said, voice measured. “Piers pushed too far in court today. No way he did that on his own. Elowen is behind it. You go tell her this doesn’t have to turn into a full war. Not yet. She tells Piers, Gareth, all of them, to hold their tongues.”

His eyes hardened. “Because if this escalates, I’m not going down quietly. She should remember I still hold proof that Cassian had the Nordian prince eliminated.”

Tristan felt his pulse spike but lowered his head again. “Understood. I’ll go immediately.”

At Hale Manor, Cassian stood at a long wooden worktable, working dough with steady, practiced hands.

Nearby, Elowen sat at a smaller table, chin resting lightly in her palms, watching him with a soft, amused smile.

“Your Grace.”

Anson appeared at the doorway and bowed. “Tristan from the Crown Prince’s Wing has arrived. He says he was sent by the Crown Prince and requests an audience.”

Elowen didn’t even shift her posture. “Let him wait. The duke and I are occupied.”

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