I Accidentally Became Duke Lysander’S Mistress
The Dukes office
Naomi headed downstairs, doing her best to ignore the tight twist in her stomach.
The maids had told her to go to the kitchen.
The castle was enormous, practically a maze wrapped in a rich man’s ego.
But to her?
Please.
She knew every hallway like the back of her hand.
She’d spent years watching the series. Memorized every floor plan. Every antique vase. Every suspiciously unguarded corridor.
She peeked into each room as she passed, curiosity outweighing caution.
Evelyn Blackwood
*in awe* This must be the parlor where the Duke and his broody friends pretend to solve the world’s problems.
“Discussing foreign affairs,” my foot. It’s just brandy, bragging, and brooding. (￣o￣) )
Evelyn Blackwood
*snorts* And this?
The Lady fiancée’s room.
Perfume, lace, and delusion.
But then, her steps slowed.
She knew what came next.
The place she swore to avoid. The room where the drama always brewed.
Evelyn Blackwood
*Sighs* Ugh. The Duke’s office.
The land of sleep-inducing decisions and emotionally stunted furniture.
She froze. Oh no. No no no. She turned. Slowly.
Like a criminal caught red-handed in the drawing room with a candlestick.
Evelyn Blackwood
*awkward chuckle* Your Grace.
Didn’t see you there.
Duke Lysander Everhart
*Cold dark voice* Repeat yourself.
Evelyn Blackwood
🤔 (I could say it was a joke.
Or I could say the truth and die in this hallway.… Die it is.)
Evelyn Blackwood
*shrugging*I said your office could use… a soul. And maybe a splash of color that doesn’t scream “emotional repression.”
Duke Lysander Everhart
*Unfazed raising an eyebrow*
Coming from someone who fell asleep in the Duke’s own bed, wearing someone else’s title? *Cold*
Evelyn Blackwood
*arms crossed, proud* What can I say? I dream big.
He stepped closer. His stare sharp, assessing. Like he was trying to read her entire bloodline in her face.
Evelyn Blackwood
*internal* Okay. Time to retreat before this turns into a murder mystery.
Evelyn Blackwood
*suddenly cheerful* 😃 Right, well! It’s been great exchanging life philosophies, but I’m running terribly late for a mandatory breakfast. If I don’t go now, the head maid might personally set me on fire.
She turned to leave, but, He gently grabbed her wrist. Not harsh. Not threatening. Just… unexpectedly soft.
Duke Lysander Everhart
*quietly* You don’t belong here.
Evelyn Blackwood
*smiling faintly* Neither did your sense of interior design. Yet here we both are.
She yanked herself free before her sarcasm ran out, bolting toward the kitchen like her life (and stomach) depended on it.
The smell of warm butter, cinnamon, and something sweet greeted her like a warm hug from the inside.
Evelyn Blackwood
*eyes wide* Is that… real food?
I could eat all of those pancakes in five minutes flat. 😩
Mrs. Weathering
*without looking* Late again.
Evelyn Blackwood
I got a bit… turned around. The castle’s bigger than I remembered. *awkward laugh*
Author Kitty___🥀💍
That’s it for now ✨
Author Kitty___🥀💍
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