ONE NIGHT STAND WITH HOT DUKE-Chapter 69: Another lie

The following day, Demian left.

Not the way he usually did not for a brief matter, not for a meeting that would have him return by nightfall.

This time, he was gone from the capital’s castle for far too long.

Valerie was given no explanation. No message. No promise of when he would return.

She continued her days as usual. Breakfast in the small room by the garden. A little reading. Walking through the castle corridors that felt increasingly empty.

She did not ask.

Not because she did not want to know, but because she had learned asking would only make her feel small.

But truth does not always come because it is sought.

Sometimes it arrives... uninvited.

Valerie was passing through a side corridor when her steps faltered. Not because she meant to eavesdrop, but because she heard her name spoken.

"His Grace will not be returning soon," Sean’s voice sounded low but clear.

Valerie stood behind a stone pillar on instinct, her breath caught.

"How long?" asked another voice, Hylos, Demian’s personal guard, now stationed nearby.

"There is no certainty," Sean replied. "This journey... is not a military matter."

A brief silence followed.

"He left with Lady Ivanka Kosler," Sean continued quietly. "That is why security has been reinforced."

The words fell one by one ,calm, professional and struck Valerie squarely in the chest.

She did not move.

Hylos let out a short breath. "Lady Valerie does not know yet?"

"No," Sean answered. "And truthfully... I do not know whether she needs to."

Valerie closed her eyes.

A pain rose within her not sharp, but heavy.

Like something she had already expected, yet that still hurt when it finally became real.

She stepped back slowly, without a sound, not wanting them to realize she had been there.

Back in her room, Valerie closed the door carefully.

She sat on the edge of the bed.

She did not cry. She did not rage.

She was simply still.

"Gone with Ivanka..." she murmured softly, as if the words had to be spoken to feel real.

She let out a small, hollow laugh.

So this is what it meant.

It was not the distance she had built that separated them, but Demian’s own choice.

Valerie looked toward the open window. The wind carried in the cold air of the capital.

And for the first time in a long while, she no longer asked why.

Because the answer was already far too clear.

Valerie sat for a long time by her bedroom window that night, gazing at the lights of the capital city shimmering like a sea of false stars. Normally, the sight made her feel small but this time, it did the opposite. She felt empty.

Demian was with Ivanka.

The truth finally settled in her chest, no longer as a fresh wound, but as a weight she could no longer deny. She did not know what she was supposed to do now. Wait? Ask? Be angry?

None of it felt right.

In the end, Valerie chose the one thing she still had control over:herself.

"I can’t go on like this," she murmured softly.

She rose, summoned Sera and Lira, and asked them to prepare a gown. Not the most striking one, nor the simplest just a dress that made her feel enough. Enough as herself.

The invitation to Countess Avaina’s salon had been lying on her table for days. Normally, Valerie would have hesitated to attend such an event, but tonight she felt... inclined to go. She wanted to be somewhere Demian was not. Somewhere she did not have to wait for anyone.

The salon was warm and alive with conversation. Soft music drifted through the air, laughter echoing across the grand hall filled with candlelight and crystal. Valerie stepped inside with calm composure, though her heart beat faster than usual.

A few pairs of eyes turned toward her. There were whispers, of course. She was used to them. But tonight, for the first time, she did not let them touch her.

She took a glass of a light drink and stood near the window, taking in the atmosphere without fully engaging until a voice spoke beside her.

"You don’t seem like the type who enjoys crowds like this."

Valerie turned.

A man stood next to her tall, composed, with an easy smile that did not feel forced. His eyes were calm, intelligent, and strangely free of judgment.

"I simply... choose quieter corners," Valerie replied honestly.

The man let out a soft chuckle."A wise choice."

He inclined his head slightly."Kaiser."

Valerie paused for a fraction of a second before realizing who stood before her.The Crown Prince. The heir to the throne. Demian’s friend.

Yet there was no arrogance in his manner. No imposed distance.

"Valerie," she introduced herself, her voice steady.

Kaiser nodded, as if the name were already familiar."I know."

There was no mockery. No teasing tone.

Just simple acknowledgment.

"You look... tired," Kaiser said after a moment, his voice low, nearly swallowed by the music. "Not physically."

Valerie smiled faintly, more sincere than she realized."Is it that obvious?"

"To someone who’s used to observing," Kaiser replied lightly.

He offered his arm."Would you like to walk for a bit? These gatherings are far more pleasant when not endured alone."

Valerie hesitated for a moment, then nodded.

They walked slowly among the guests, speaking of light things music, the capital, how exhausting it was to be constantly watched. Kaiser did not mention Demian. Did not mention Ivanka. And Valerie did not have to pretend.

For the first time in a long while, she laughed without feeling guilty.

"Thank you," she said eventually. "For keeping me company."

Kaiser glanced at her."Sometimes people don’t need solutions," he said quietly. "They just need someone beside them, so they don’t feel alone."

Valerie lowered her gaze, feeling something warm spread through her chest not love, not false hope, but relief.

That night, Valerie did not return home with answers to all her questions. But she returned with something she had nearly lost the certainty that she could still stand, enjoy her time, and breathe, without always having to wait for Demian.

Their conversation flowed naturally, without ever feeling forced.

Valerie could no longer remember when her shoulders had begun to relax, or when she had stopped guarding every word she spoke. With Kaiser, she did not need to choose her sentences carefully. She did not have to weigh which words were safe and which might be misunderstood.

They spoke of simple things.

About how salon gatherings often felt more like stages for display than places for genuine exchange.About old books that were far more honest than the conversations of modern nobility.About how exhausting it was to live a role assigned to someone simply because of a name and a title.

"I’m always expected to never be wrong," Kaiser said with a faint, almost sarcastic smile. "Even though I’m just human."