Duke Of Darkness

CHAPTER 4

Annette had accepted Rafael as her husband. However, her uncle had not. Rafael’s life in the Hurbret family home was never as simple as the moments of laughter he shared with Annette. Behind the warmth that was slowly growing between them, there was another figure who constantly loomed, exerting an invisible but palpable pressure. Frederick Hurbret, Annette’s uncle, was a man brimming with pride for his family name, never missing an opportunity to remind Rafael of his lowly status.

It all started on a crisp autumn day when the wind carried the scent of dried leaves. Frederick walked with steps that always sounded like a statement. The sound of his boots echoed across the marble floor of the main hall, where Rafael stood, examining a strategy map spread out on the long table. Rafael sensed Frederick’s presence even before the older man spoke—the air in the room seemed to tense.

“Ah, my esteemed son-in-law.” Frederick’s voice cut through the silence, laden with sarcasm. His face, framed by a thick mustache that was turning white, wrinkled as he approached Rafael. “Or should I call you… the soldier without rank?” He raised an eyebrow, as if savoring each word that left his mouth. “I never thought the Hurbret family would become entangled with someone who, under normal circumstances, would not be fit to set foot on this ground, let alone stand here.”

Rafael looked up, his face remaining calm. He felt the sting of the insult, but his expression stayed neutral. Instead, he merely offered a small smile, one he had perfected over the years—a smile full of self-control. “Uncle Frederick,” Rafael responded softly, “it is a great honor for me to be here.” His words carried no anger, only an unwavering calm.

Frederick’s brow furrowed, clearly unsatisfied. He crossed his arms over his chest, glaring at Rafael as if he were some lowly creature. “I have always wondered what makes someone like you deserving of the Hurbret name. I can’t fathom why Laurent asked you to become part of this family.” Frederick’s eyes glistened with disdain, and he let out a long sigh, shivering with disgust.

“Ah, or perhaps… you threatened Laurent? And you married Annette to gain power? Or are you just hoping to salvage the image of a rankless soldier by clinging to the dignity of our family?”

Rafael still did not react, shifting his gaze back to the map as if Frederick’s words were nothing more than passing wind. Yet within him, he felt a flame slowly ignite, though he did not show it. He knew that confronting Frederick directly would only worsen things, and the last thing he wanted was for Annette to be caught between them.

Annette, who happened to appear in the doorway holding a basket of freshly picked flowers, witnessed the scene. Her face turned pale, and her lips pressed tightly together. She knew all too well how her uncle constantly tested Rafael, trying to provoke him into an outburst or expose a weakness he could exploit.

“Uncle!” Annette interjected, trying to sound cheerful despite the tension behind her voice. “Look, I picked flowers to decorate the dining room. Rafael, aren’t they beautiful?” She stepped inside, placing the basket on the table and standing beside Rafael, her hand gently touching his arm. There was a hidden tension in her touch, but Rafael felt it as an act of protection.

Frederick looked at Annette, then at Rafael, and sighed, as if her presence made him reluctant to continue his insults. “Annette, dear,” he said, his voice softer but with a sneer still clear in his expression. “I just want to make sure you know I will never trust this outsider.”

“Uncle Frederick!” Annette replied, her voice polite but cold, “Rafael is my husband. And he is part of this family.” She held her uncle’s gaze with a strength that made Rafael feel proud, though he showed nothing but that faint smile, the smile that irritated Frederick even more.

Frederick let out a long sigh, raising his hands as if conceding. “Very well, Annette. Let’s see how long this lasts,” he said before turning and leaving, his footsteps echoing loudly as he departed the room.

Rafael and Annette stood in silence, the atmosphere heavy after Frederick’s departure. Annette gripped Rafael’s arm tighter, as if trying to offer warmth amidst the coldness of the recent insult. Rafael turned, looking at his wife with a gentleness he rarely showed to anyone.

“I’m sorry….” Annette whispered, her eyes downcast. “I don’t know how to stop my uncle. He’s always been like that.”

Rafael raised his hand, touching Annette’s chin gently, making her look at him. “Don’t apologize,” he said softly. “You don’t need to protect me. I’m used to people like him.”

Annette smiled, though sadness lingered in the corners of her eyes. “I just wish our life could be easier.”

Rafael nodded, even though he knew life had never been easy, and it probably never would be. But seeing Annette by his side, with her unexpected strength and courage, made all the exhaustion and humiliation feel lighter. In his heart, Rafael promised to remain strong—not for himself, but for this woman and the promise he had made to the man he had once respected more than anyone else.