CHAPTER 4 Part 2
The loud metallic clang of the candelabra as it collided with the cold stone floor echoed.
Then, a chilling silence followed.
Frozen still, Alena stared at the scattered candles before shifting her gaze back to the duke who simply and calmly opened his eyes.
The sound didn’t even seem to jolt him awake. It was as if a whisper had woken him instead! Fluid and graceful, he rose.
He stepped towards the fallen candelabra. He picked it and set it upright.
And before the wisps of smoke coming from the dead candles even disappear, the duke nonchalantly made his way back to his bed and gracefully settled down.
Alena stared in disbelief as the duke closed his eyes like nothing had happened.
Flabbergasted and frustrated, she clenched her dagger hard.
"Of course, this is nothing to him... he must be already used to something like this," she uttered. "I wonder how many other ghosts have haunted you that you're no longer even bothered."
She shook her head. "No, this could just be him being the fearless man that he is. He's not afraid to kill, so it's understandable that ghosts wouldn't even make him flinch."
Stepping closer to him again, Alena's eyes sharpened as she looked down at him. "Well then, I have no reason to idle anymore."
She lifted the dagger high, its blade gleaming ominously under the faint light streaming through the window. Every part of her screamed vengeance, yet a little part of her still wavered.
Gritting her teeth, she yelled at herself. “Don’t hesitate. This man deserves this!”
Her dagger thrummed with intense energy. Dark tendrils of shadow intertwined with shimmering beams of purplish light.
"Do it!" she exclaimed.
Finally, she lunged.
But a hand shot up with shocking speed, grasping her wrist with a grip so firm just before her dagger could pierce his flesh. Her eyes flew open in shock, and she looked down to see the tip of the dagger hovering so close to his heart.
The duke's eyes bore into hers, gleaming intensely with an emotion she couldn’t fathom.
And then his rich and deep voice, flowed through the tense silence: "You are hesitating way too much... my duchess."

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