"I mean, if we're married, we're supposed to stay together, especially for the first few months." His eyes glinted with amusement. "So, yes, you'll be living with me. You'll be expected to play the role of my dutiful mate."
He leaned in closer, his voice taking on a sinister tone. "As for living your old life... Well, let's just say that I have certain expectations for your behavior during the period of our arrangement. I expect you'll follow my rules and terms while we're married. And well, if you don't..." He paused, letting the unspoken threat linger in the air. "Let's just say that I have ways of dealing with your disobedience."
She glowered at his challenge. He smirked, enjoying her dismay.
"If the truth of what you are proposing was to come to light, you know what the consequences will be. The supreme council will have us beheaded," Amber said with a warning in her voice, filled with doubts and fear.
"It won't. The mark can be forged on you to appear that I've already claimed you, and this is strictly confidential. I haven't told a single soul of this—well, except for you. And now you know, I'm afraid the labor camp is no longer an option for you. It's either you concede to my proposal or, I'm afraid, I'll have to unalive you." His expression darkened, and an aura of murderous intent engulfed Amber, sending chills down her whole body. "So?" He smiled, taking her hands in his. "Will you marry me?"
With a sinking feeling, Amber realized she was trapped. The rumors surrounding him were true – people who crossed him vanished without a trace. He wasn't bluffing, she knew she had no escape. Trapped and outmaneuvered, she felt a heavy weight settle in. Defeated, Amber's gaze fell to the polished floor, and she whispered her reluctant consent: "Fine... I'll marry you..."
The Duke nodded, satisfied, and freed her chin. "Good," he said. "Mrs. Henderson, the Duchess of Eston-Bridge." He said this mischievously, trying to vex Amber, and he succeeded, for she eyed him with pure resentment but didn't utter a word. Amber was still trying to wrap her head around what she had just agreed to. Was this going to mark the beginning of her downfall? Had she just succumbed to defeat so easily?
"I have matters to attend to before we can finalize our agreement," he said in a businesslike tone. He picked up his discarded cravat, preparing to head out. Just then, his footman appeared at the door, as if on cue—a tall, hefty-looking man with a straight, unreadable face, waiting for his master's orders. "Steven, escort the lady to a secured room. We wouldn't want her leaving us so soon," the Duke said without looking in the man's direction, his head held high as he adjusted his cravat and collar.
"Wait, what?!" Amber blurted out
"Steven, give us a minute," he said, waving his hand dismissively. The footman left, closing the door behind him. The Duke continued speaking when they were alone. "Like I said earlier, you're not going anywhere. From now on, you'll be staying here, under very watchful eyes, lest you try something stupid."
"You're truly despicable," Amber said, her anxiety rising. "Is this necessary?"
"I am simply making sure you hold up to your end of the bargain," he replied, his voice calm and collected. "But first..." He dragged out the words as he walked toward a desk, opening the bottom drawer. He pulled out a brown envelope. "Here," he said, tossing the envelope onto the desk. "This is a sample of the contract for you to go through when you're alone. It states the terms of the agreement and the rules we shall abide by."
She eyed it suspiciously, slowly walking towards the desk. "You just so happen to have it already drafted?"
"Yes," he replied. "Like I said, I was already searching for suitable candidates. But I don't believe any of them would commit fully to the plan."
"And you think I will?" she asked, surprised, as she picked up the sealed folder.
He shrugged. "You're already in a compromising position, and you have much to gain if this works out. And part of the contract states that we consummate the marriage. "Amber looked up to see the Duke staring coldly at her, his eyes expressionless, while hers were filled with horror.
She opened her mouth to say something, but closed it again; the words wouldn't seem to come out. Then she tried again. "Consummate the marriage?"
"Yes," he replied. "I want our marriage to be as real and authentic as possible."
"Authentic as in love?" Amber asked incredulously. "And you think consummating it will make it real? You're out of your mind!" She scoffed, thinking to herself that this man must be a deranged lunatic.
"No, I am not looking for a romantic marriage, far from that. I have other... intentions," he said, producing another paper from beneath his desk. "Read it out loud," he commanded.
Amber eyed the paper with suspicion, and began reading, but she froze, staring at the words boldly written in bold, black ink:
"PROCREATIVE MARRIAGE CONTRACT..."
Her eyes darted up in confusion, searching his face for answers, but he remained unmoved.
"What does that mean...?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. His gaze never leaving hers, his face unreadable, he spoke in a low, even tone.
"Congratulations, you're going to be a mother."