The journey to the Prince's ancestral house was filled with silence.
Eileen Prince had decided to stay put in the Prince Residence, stating that she would like the newlyweds to enjoy their honeymoon and hope for good news when they return.
Severus and Emilia sat on opposite sides in the carriage. They had yet to utter a single word after the wedding.
Emilia admired the view of the night sky dotted with glittering stars with a soft smile and a heart that ached. She realised earlier on that the rumours surrounding her husband's illicit affair must be true for he could not articulate a promise of fidelity. She wondered if he would leave her someday to be with the Muggleborn.
A tear escaped her; she hastily wiped it away.
Her husband was reading The Prophet, oblivious to his Duchess' rumination. His heart clenched painfully as he read the small section of the news.
Lily Potter née Evans is married to Viscount James Potter in a scandalous wedding event given that Evans was a Muggleborn commoner and truthfully very plain looking. There were several high profiles in attendance – The Duke of Kent, His Grace Sirius Black and the Earl of Withington, His Lord Remus Lupin.
Severus mumbled an Incendio, wanting more than nothing to burn the newspaper.
"My Lord?" Emilia croaked out, watching the flames engulf the paper.
"What?!" Severus snapped.
Emilia frowned, confused by his sudden outburst. She straightened up with a poised posture. Her eyes hardened minutely.
"I would appreciate it if you do not raise your voice at me, Your Grace. It would be unbecoming of a Duke to behave in such a manner to his Duchess."
His scowl deepened. "Is that so? I suppose the vows you espoused were mere deceptions."
Emilia was genuinely baffled.
"I beg your pardon?"
"Unconditionally?" Severus questioned.
Emilia huffed out frustratedly. "I know what I promised. But, am I to withstand rude, unwarranted responses from my husband?"
Severus was about to retort but Emilia interjected – "Should I assume that my lord unjust, prone to unpredictable flares?"
Severus grasped her wrist, pulling her roughly. "How dare you speak to me in such a manner?"
"In the same manner, you spoke?" Emilia challenged. Her wrist hurt as his grip tightened but the blazing heat in her eyes was resolute.
Severus narrowed his eyes. He was intrigued. Gone was the genteel display of politeness. Instead, fiery disobedience set in her countenance with a flicker of wilfulness that struck a chord in Severus.
He let go and observed as she clutched her wrist to her chest, lightly rubbing the tender flesh. She chewed on her bottom lip and her eyes turned misty.
Severus felt oddly guilty. He softened. "I–"
"An apology is worthless if one does not mean his words," Emilia muttered indignantly, turning away to face the dark skies.
The flash of hurt across Severus' features went unnoticed by his new wife. He felt ashamed for having reacted in the same manner his dead father would to his beloved mother.
The rest of their journey was marred with an uncomfortable silence and palpable tension.
The carriage came to a slow halt.
Emilia peaked out and watched as Prince Manor was unveiled to her. It was nothing like her family's house which was smaller in scale and decrepit. Prince Manor was large and she could tell that the place was well-kept.
The Duke stepped off the carriage, standing by it and letting out a hand for his Duchess. Emilia ignored his proffered hand and lifted her dress a little higher, showing her smooth calf before going down on her own.
Severus cleared his throat and looked away, giving his Duchess the time to readjust her state of undress. Though, he will not admit that his pulse quickened.
Two house elves apparated in front of them. One was younger and jumpier whilst the other had a similar disposition to the lord of the house.
"Your Grace," Dobby greeted quietly with a bow.
"Your Grace," Bibby mimicked, though a little clumsier in her action.
Severus nodded in acknowledgement.
"This is Her Grace, Emilia Prince," he drawled silkily.
Emilia smiled politely when the two house elves introduced themselves. She quite liked the tinner of the two with her jovial eyes. She bent down slightly, a hand to her chest.
"Thank you for ensuring our home is well-maintained. Your efforts are recognised," Emilia said softly, earning a look of surprise from both house elves.
The Duke raised his eyebrow, unaccustomed to how fast she had exhibited different sides of her character.
"Th–thank you, Your Grace," Dobby stammered hastily, with a deeper bow of respect.
Bibby's eyes glittered in admiration. She reached out to touch Emilia's hand, uncertain if the new Duchess would do her the honour.
"Bibby!" Dobby scolded.
Bibby trembled, withdrawing her hand.
"Apologies, Your Grace. Bibby is rather young," Dobby mumbled.
Emilia shook her head. "It's alright." She took the little elf's hand. Bibby gasped in surprise.
"Your Grace!" Dobby protested.
Emilia raised a defiant eyebrow. "Am I not permitted to act as I deem fit in my house?"
Dobby shifted his gaze to the Duke. He nodded imperceptibly.
Dobby provided a wry smile.
"Of course, Your Grace."
Emilia smiled, turning to the tiny house elf. "Now, Bibby, will you show me around the manor?"
A grin formed on her elvish features. "Certainly, Your Grace!"
Severus watched as his wife and that impertinent house elf entered the foyer of his manor.
He turned to the house elf who had raised him.
"She's quite peculiar, is she not?"
Dobby smiled. "Quite. She suits being a Duchess. Your Duchess, in particular, Your Grace."
"I doubt so," Severus muttered petulantly.
Dobby chuckled, patting Severus' calf.
"I think you know so, Your Grace."
Emilia entered the parlour of Prince Manor and emitted a gasp. Her eyes glittered in delight, reflecting the strokes of amber that brightened up the hall.
"Oh my," Emilia murmured.
The parlour was the epitome of grandeur. It had a high ceiling, decorated with coloured cornices. The floor was entirely covered with the finest Persian carpets and furnished with wingback leather armchairs and mahogany tables. Various parts of the room were adorned with an assortment of flower arrangements, much to her surprise. She did not expect the Duke to be someone who enjoys such embellishments.
"Your Grace thinks is beautiful?" Bibby asked, with wide hopeful eyes.
"It is, Bibby. You've done a wonderful job," Emilia responded, entranced by the sight.
"Your Grace like to see her chambers?"
"Yes, please. Thank you."
A cleared throat from behind.
The pair turned around and saw that the Duke had been quietly observing them. "Perhaps, dinner?" Severus suggested. He was extending an olive branch with a subtle upturn at the corners of his lips.
"Perhaps not," Emilia sniped, not acknowledging that the Duke looked strangely charming when he smiled.
Severus sighed. "Dobby has informed me that the Earl and Countess of Pembroke wish to pay us a visit this evening. Should I decline their request?"
Emilia understood that the Duke was making amends and from what she gathered, Lord and Lady Weasley are an old, amiable couple.
She shook her head. "I believe dinner would be appropriate. I am however inadequately dressed. Pardon me, Your Grace."
"Do –"
Emilia gave a quick curtsy, ignoring the Duke's follow up questions and turned to Bibby instead. "We must make haste. Apparate us into my chambers."
"Yes, Your Grace!" Bibby squeaked before snapping her fingers and they were both gone.
Severus pinched the bridge of his nose. His new wife was evidently different from his expectations and she was bent on vexing him.
"Dobby!" He called and the elf apparated by his side.
"Yes, Your Grace?"
He sighed softly. "Do find out if the Duchess has any food aversions. She seems keen on avoiding me," Severus drawled. There was a fracture of hurt in his tone.
"Of course, Your Grace."
Emilia's chambers had an indistinguishable charm. A four-poster bed sat in the middle of her room, lined with Emerald satin sheets and draped with airy curtains. She had matching pieces of mahogany furniture. The dressing table with a rectangular shaped mirror, its exterior intricately carved with the Prince family's insignia.
She walked to her wardrobe, opened the doors and was greeted with wears for every occasion – from exquisite ballgowns to translucent lingerie. A blush crept upon Emilia's cheeks as she pursued her clothing.
"Is this all … mine?"
"Yes, Your Grace! The Duke instructed Dobby and Bibby to fill in Your Grace's wardrobe for all affairs. From Balls to soirée to Your Grace's pyjamas and for the wedding night, of course!"
Emilia coughed awkwardly at the house elf's particular enthusiasm when mentioning the wedding night. "I see. Could you pick out a dress for tonight? Suitable for dinner with the Earl and his wife."
Bibby jumped on the balls of her feet, excited to be of great assistance to the new Duchess. "Certainly, Your Grace. Does your Grace wish to take a bath? Bibby draw for Your Grace! A bath with added fragrances! Does Your Grace want lavender? Or Myrrh or tangerine or freesia like Miss Evans?" Bibby babbled non-stop.
Emilia frowned. "What?"
Bibby gasped, clamping her mouth shut.
"Miss Evans? She lived here?"
"N-no!"
Emilia felt the smarting sting of betrayal. "Are you lying to me, Bibby?"
Bibby shook her head furiously. But, the twitch in her ears was obvious.
Emilia's frown deepened. "I shall be displeased if you're indeed dishonest."
Bibby yelped. "I'm sorry, Your Grace! Bibby is sorry! His Grace ordered to never speak of Miss Evans." The house elf gasped again. "Ah! Bibby is stupid! Bibby deserve punishment!"
The young house elf was ready to launch herself to the sharp edge of the table but Emilia stopped her.
"Enough!" She chastised.
Bibby quivered. "Bibby is sorry, Your Grace."
Emilia sighed. "Tell the Duke that I no longer wish to attend dinner and you're dismissed."
"But…"
"Do my words not matter?" Emilia questioned.
"Bibby will leave Your Grace," the house elf mumbled numbly before disapparating.
Emilia sat on her bed. Her heart squeezed painfully at the knowledge that there was no place in the Duke's heart for her. She was pulled into a sham of a marriage, hoping to find love but was given the short end of the stick.
A wizard who had fallen for another but was bound to live his life with a person he could never love.
Severus strode to his wife's bed chambers. His face etched a deep scowl, infuriated when Dobby had informed him of the Duchess' desire to be absent. He forcefully pushed the door open and was greeted by an alarmed Emilia, in the midst of changing.
"Oh!" She gasped, covering herself with her arms.
Severus' gaze fell to her chest, her slender forearms barely covering her breasts. He peeked at a nipple.
Her face turned a shade of red. "Get out!" Severus grunted, closing the door shut. He leaned against the door. His mind froze on the image of her nude body. Her breasts were beautiful with brown tipped nipples that he wished to swirl his tongue around.
"Fuck," he mumbled, running a hand down his face, mentally berating himself for feeling a stupid twitch on his manhood.
Emilia's heart thudded against her ribcage and she hurriedly dressed. She will disregard the way his gaze went for her breasts and the odd flutter in her stomach or the fact that she wished to show more of herself to him.
"Merlin. Could the day get any worse?" she muttered under her breath just as a knock came by her door.
"Enter."
Severus ran a hand through his hair. His head slightly bowed down. "I apologise for the intrusion," he began lamely.
Emilia felt an ounce of remorse. "I apologise for my reaction."
The Duke grunted. His eyes did not meet hers.
Silence ensued.
Severus finally found the courage and looked up. Emilia wrapped her arms around her body and rolled her shoulders uneasily.
"Have you taken ill?" He murmured.
"Pardon?"
"You do not wish to attend dinner?"
Emilia's face fell, suddenly remembering the reason. "Oh." She nodded her head. "The journey was exhausting," she lied.
His brows lowered in concern. "Should I fetch the mediwitch?"
"Some rest would suffice."
"I see."
Another bout of silence overtook the room.
"Would – would you like me to help you to bed?" Severus asked awkwardly, his cheeks coloured.
Emilia smiled ruefully. "It's not necessary."
Severus cleared his throat. He would not confess that her constant refusal hurts.
"Yes, of course. I shall take my leave."
"Please do send my apologies to Lord and Lady Weasley," Emilia said quietly.
Severus shook his head. "I've called off tonight's dinner."
Emilia raised her eyebrow. "Why?"
A brief smile tugged on his lips. "I am incomplete without my Duchess."
"Oh, I'm sorry," Emilia mumbled shamefully, nibbling on her lower lips.
Severus shook his head. "Your health is much more important."
He took notice of her habits. It seemed the Duchess would pull her lips between her teeth whenever she felt uncomfortable. He realised that he must have lingered far too long.
Inclining his head, Severus murmured, "have a rest. I will visit come morning."
"It's not necessary," Emilia protested.
"It's my duty."
With that, the door closed with a soft click.