ONE NIGHT STAND WITH HOT DUKE-Chapter 122: Feelings of envy

Valerie had protection.

Valerie had power though she never sought it.

And now... Valerie had love she did not even need to ask for.

Bianca lifted her gaze once more.

Demian was leaning in, whispering something to Valerie. Valerie frowned slightly, then laughed softly a small, unguarded laugh. Demian answered with a faint smile, an expression he rarely showed to anyone.

Heat spread through Bianca’s chest.

Not just envy.

But the sense that life had never dealt her a fair hand.

Her hands returned to work, her movements now rougher. Water dripped onto the stone floor, mingling with the faint reflection of her face a woman who always felt one step behind, always watching, never the center of the story.

And in her heart, without fully realizing it, a question began to take shape slowly, dangerously, What if all of that... was meant to be mine?

Valerie realized the gaze was no coincidence.

There was a pause that lasted too long, a silence heavier than usual as if someone were weighing her very presence. She turned her head, and between the stone pillars of the eastern corridor, she saw Bianca standing with a mop cloth in her hands, her movements slowed, her eyes lingering on Valerie for just a moment too long.

Valerie drew a quiet breath.

Without saying anything to Demian, she stepped forward. Her movements were calm, her back straight not the posture of a woman about to scold, but of someone who chose to confront.

Behind her, Demian remained still. He did not follow, nor did he call out. He simply observed his red eyes tracking Valerie, watching the way she approached his sister, how her shoulders stiffened slightly as the distance between them closed. Demian recognized the sign: Valerie was being cautious.

"Do you need something?" Valerie asked when they were a few steps apart.

Bianca flinched slightly, as if only then realizing she had been noticed. A smile immediately formed on her face neat, controlled.

"No, Valerie," she said softly. "I merely saw you with the Duke... and wished to greet His Grace."

She inclined her head toward Demian, her movement polite, almost too perfect."Your Grace."

Demian gave a brief nod. No smile, no comment. The acknowledgment was enough like a seal given without emotion.

Valerie turned her attention back to Bianca. "If there’s nothing you wish to say, you may continue with your work."

Bianca hesitated. Her fingers tightened around the handle of the bucket. Then, as if gathering her courage, she asked, "Valerie... will I also be staying in the castle?"

Valerie frowned slightly. "Weren’t you only meant to work here?"

Bianca lowered her head a little, her voice now softer. "If I return home every day, Father will realize much sooner that I’m working here. You know how he is he won’t remain idle. He’ll come, make demands, and turn everything into something worse."

Valerie fell silent.

The image of her father unyielding, demanding rose vividly in her mind. She knew Bianca was not exaggerating. The silence stretched long enough that Bianca stood holding her breath, her eyes fixed on the floor.

"I will have someone prepare a room for you," Valerie said at last.

Bianca’s face brightened instantly, as if the afternoon light had suddenly fallen right upon her. The smile came quickly, too quickly and Valerie noticed it, noted it, though she did not comment.

"Thank you, Valerie," Bianca said. "You do remember I prefer a large room, don’t you?"

There was something in that sentence not a request, more like a reminder that made Valerie pause for a brief moment. Still, she only nodded.

"You may see it after you’ve finished your work," she replied calmly.

Bianca nodded several times. "Thank you." She bowed once more, then turned away, her steps light, almost eager too eager for someone who had just been given a heavy responsibility.

Valerie remained where she stood, watching Bianca’s back until it disappeared around the corner of the corridor. An unfamiliar feeling settled in her chest not regret, nor relief. More like a small note placed there by instinct, pay closer attention.

Demian approached without a sound. His presence was felt even before he spoke.

"You’re too kind," he said quietly.

Valerie exhaled. "I just don’t want to make things worse."

Demian looked toward the corridor where Bianca was no longer visible. "Kindness without limits is often misunderstood."

Valerie turned to him. "I know."

Yet despite the certainty in her words, a small foreboding stirred within her like a shadow that had just crossed the afternoon light. A shadow whose shape was still unclear, but real enough to make her wary.

Demian did not respond.

Without warning, his hand closed around Valerie’s wrist his grip firm, not painful, but strong enough to convey one thing clearly the conversation was over. He pulled her away from the corridor, his strides long and quick, as though determined to sever any remaining glances or whispers lingering there.

Valerie did not resist. She simply followed, her gown whispering softly against the stone floor, while her thoughts lagged several steps behind on Bianca, on that smile that had come too quickly, on a foreboding she had yet to fully name.

The sky had changed by the time dinner ended.

The last remnants of dusk faded beyond the tall windows of the dining hall, replaced by a deepening blue. Candles were lit, casting long shadows along the walls, and the atmosphere grew quieter more intimate.

Bianca had been standing in the outer corridor of the dining hall for some time.

Her hands were folded before her, her back pressed against the castle’s cold stone wall. She waited. She listened to the faint sounds of cutlery, muffled laughter, and more than anything she imagined Demian and Valerie seated across from one another, speaking within a closeness she could never reach.

When the doors finally opened, Demian emerged first.

He passed without looking back, his steps steady, his expression as cold as ever. Bianca held her breath for a brief moment, hoping she did not know why that he would stop, address her, or at least acknowledge her presence.

But Demian did nothing.

He simply walked away.

Moments later, Valerie appeared.

Her pace was slower. She stopped when she saw Bianca standing there. Her gaze was sharp yet composed, like someone prepared to accept any explanation or dismiss it entirely.

"Do you need something?" Valerie asked.

Her tone was even, neither accusatory nor inviting.

Bianca stepped forward half a pace. "I’ve finished my work," she said. "And you said I could see my room after I was done."

Valerie fell silent.

Only for a moment, but long enough for Bianca to feel that familiar tension again the sensation of standing on the edge of someone else’s decision. Valerie then turned slightly, searching for someone nearby.

"Lira," she called.

Lira, who had been standing not far away, approached at once and bowed.

"Take her to Dorote," Valerie said. "I asked her earlier today to prepare a room for Bianca."