The conversation was still fresh in Cherry’s memory as she got more and more familiar with the west wing. A rare fit of curiosity enveloped her. She studied the room she cleaned, wondering which could be the one the Duke used. She heard a lot about him. Mainly from Leila, not so much from serious Dora. But even the kitchen staff were eager to gossip about his Grace, when everyone was sure he was far, far away to punish them for the act.

But look as she might, Cherry failed to see anyone fitting the description of Cold as Ice. To her, everyone at the castle was kind and polite. Everyone was warm and welcoming, even to someone like her. And the warmed they were, the stronger her curiosity grew, as ill advised as it felt.

There was a swarm of people going, all dressed in fancy robes. She spied them from a corner, wondering if any of them looked visibly cold or icy. They all looked grand and aloof, but Cherry felt there was no Duke among them.

“What are we looking at?” a voice asked.

Cherry would have been startled if her mind wasn’t busy observing the last three of the group before they disappeared behind the doors. 

“For someone who is freezing.”

“It’s early summer though,” the voice answered. 

“I know that. But Leila said he’s ice cold. I thought at first she meant it as personality, but it must be a health condition.”

“On what grounds?”

A familiar voice, Cherry thought, as the doors closed and there was no one to observe no more. She finally turned her head to the other party. Their faces suddenly a mere centimeters apart. She stuttered for a bit, taking a step back, “Be-because everyone is so nice here.”

The owner of the voice raised a brow, “Ah, I see. Sounds reasonable.” 

Cherry nodded besides herself, her face growing impatiently warm. The Lord was looking at her intently, standing just a step away. A punishment suddenly crawled its way to Cherry’s mind, she was, after all, caught slacking off. Her face, warm and flushed became paler by second instead, “Ye-yes, My Lord.” 

“And who are we speaking of precisely?” The Lord didn’t acknowledge the breach of working rules. He continued leisurely, as if they were meant to be conversing right behind a corner.

Wary now, more so after Leila’s constant paranoia about gossiping, Cherry motioned for the Lord to get closer despite herself. She could not be heard talking about this out loud. The man complied, somewhat hesitant at first, he lent her his ear.

Cowering her mouth with a hand, she whispered as quietly as possible, “The Duke.”

The man’s face twitched from the words. He didn’t know if it was more due to the warm breath of the words that hit his earlobe or of the content.

“The Duke?” he whispered back, his face frozen in a bizarre grimace. Half amused and half worried. “The Ice Duke you mean then?”

Cherry nodded vigorously.

“You mean there’s no one that fits the description?” He pursed his lips, raised his brow, “No one at all?”

Cherry shook her head this time, and whispered back, “Not a single one!”

The man’s smile twitched once more, a strange kind of warmth swarming his insides, spoiled by piercing disappointment of realization. He could only mutter a soft “I see” in response.