Divorce The Duke, Marry The King!
Chapter 63: Intimate act

Chapter 63: Intimate act

It was Quinn, and the maid who appeared to have left the tray here caught in an intimate act. Though Quinn’s shirt remained on, his pants were lowered just enough to allow access, while the maid was half-naked, her bosom fully exposed.

Belle’s chest tightened, an unfamiliar ache spreading through her. She could not tell if the feeling came from seeing him in such a compromising position with another woman or from the raw intensity of the moment. How could he do this to Sofia?

"Ah! Harder!" The maid shamelessly cried, her body bent forward while Quinn took her from behind. The scandalous position was one Belle had never seen before, and though the act disgusted her, a fleeting, shameful curiosity stirred in her mind—a thought she immediately banished. How could she, even for a moment, feel any desire from witnessing such a vulgar display?

As Quinn continued, his gaze met Belle’s. To her shock, he didn’t stop. Instead, he smirked, a devilish glint in his eyes, making her heart pound with both embarrassment and anger. Without a second thought, she turned and fled, her steps hurried as she tried to distance herself from the corridor and the sight she had just witnessed.

He was shameless, bedding women during someone else’s wedding without an ounce of discretion. A scoundrel, that is what he is. Yet, she reminded herself, it was none of her concern. Sofia was the one who would bear the pain of his actions, not her.

Scoffing, she waved her hand dismissively, muttering under her breath, "Why should I care?" She forced herself to shake the scene from her mind, but it lingered, unwelcome and unrelenting.

"My lady! This way, please," came a sudden voice, startling her. Spinning around, Belle found Steve standing there, gesturing toward a path. She flinched, her heart racing from the shock, but upon recognizing him, she let out a relieved sigh.

Straightening her gown and smoothing her expression, she gave a small nod and allowed Steve to guide her back to the hall. It was clear Hezekiah had grown concerned about her, enough to send his trusted guard to fetch her.

Once inside, she found her way back to their seats. Carefully avoiding Hezekiah’s gaze, she settled into her place beside him.

"Are you alright?" He asked softly, his voice laced with concern.

She nodded quickly, keeping her eyes averted. "Yes, Your Majesty," she murmured.

Hezekiah watched her for a moment, sensing her unease but deciding against pressing further. With a small sigh, he turned his attention back to the crowd.

Taking a deep breath, Belle did the same, focusing on the scene before her. Relief washed over her upon realizing that the wedding procession had concluded. The bride and groom now stood, greeting their guests and graciously accepting gifts.

Watching them, a faint smile touched her lips as memories of her own wedding surfaced. She recalled how Quinn had refused to let anyone approach her directly, insisting that all gifts be received by the servants. His overprotectiveness had shielded her from the harsh whispers of those who thought she was unworthy of the Duke.

How could a man who once cared so deeply transform into someone so cold and indifferent? All because he believed she had betrayed him with her childhood friend, Marcel? Perhaps, in his position, she might have felt similarly, but she didn’t, she tried to understand him, to see his side, until he broke her heart and caused her to miscarry.

A single tear slid down Belle’s cheek, and Hezekiah noticed it immediately. Without hesitation, he produced his handkerchief and lightly dabbed at her cheek, wiping it away. The unexpected gesture startled her, and she flinched.

"Ah! I can manage that myself," she said hastily, taking the handkerchief from his hand and using it to dry her face. Internally, she chastised herself for letting her emotions show so openly. She only hoped he didn’t mistake her tears for sadness at being in his presence.

"Are you..." Hezekiah began, but before he could finish, the bride and groom appeared, interrupting him.

"Your Majesty, we are truly grateful that you honored our invitation, especially during these trying times," the groom said, bowing deeply alongside his bride.

’Trying times?’ Belle thought, her attention now fully on the couple.

Hezekiah rose from his seat, smiling warmly at them. "I wouldn’t have missed this joyous occasion for anything. Seeing the two of you united is something everyone has long awaited and celebrated." His tone carried a genuine cheer that made the couple blush.

Their story was well-known—a tumultuous, almost toxic relationship that somehow persevered. Despite their many quarrels, it was evident to all that they were deeply in love, the kind who would walk through fire for one another.

"It’s not too late to change my mind and divorce him," the bride teased, rolling her eyes at her husband, who frowned in mock disapproval.

Hezekiah chuckled heartily at their playful exchange. "I suppose we won’t have to settle your disputes anymore, now you will just settle it in bed," he jested, which drew even more laughter from the group.

Suddenly, the bride’s gaze shifted to Belle, who had been sitting quietly. "Oh, forgive me, my lady. Are you Belle?" She asked, leaving her husband’s side and walking toward her.

Realizing his oversight, Hezekiah quickly stepped in. "Apologies for not introducing you earlier. Belle, this is Abel and Penelope, two of my dearest friends. Abel and Penelope, meet Belle, my woman." His tone was filled with pride as he made the introduction.

The couple exchanged knowing smiles, their curiosity satisfied.

"We have heard so much about you," Penelope said warmly, taking Belle’s hand. "He speaks of you with such affection. Now we understand why."

Belle stood to greet her, relieved that Hezekiah’s close friends acknowledged her without disdain. "Congratulations on your wedding!" She said sincerely.

"Thank you!" Penelope beamed. "Yours is next and I will gladly be your bridesmaid!" She added with a playful wink, causing Belle to blush furiously.

"That’s still a long way off," Belle replied, hoping to clarify the situation, but Penelope quickly interjected.

"What do you mean? Your wedding date was already..."

Before she could finish, Abel gently pulled her back to his side, cutting her off. "Forgive my wife, she can get a little too enthusiastic. We will leave you both to enjoy the rest of the evening," he said, bowing slightly before leading Penelope away.

For some reason, Belle felt a pang of unease after Penelope’s abrupt comment. It seemed as though Penelope had been on the verge of saying something, but Abel had stopped her from saying more.

Turning to Hezekiah, she asked, "Do you know what she was about to say?"

"Don’t mind Penelope," he replied with a chuckle. "She’s the most optimistic person you will ever meet." His tone was casual, and there wasn’t even a hint of deception on his face, which made Belle believe him.

"Oh, I see," she said, nodding, and turned away, brushing off the matter for the moment.

Steve approached them then, leaning in to whisper something in Hezekiah’s ear. Belle couldn’t make out the words, but whatever he said caused Hezekiah’s expression to darken.

"Lead the way," he ordered curtly, then turned to Belle. "We need to leave now." Before she could respond, he grabbed her wrist and led her out of the hall.

Outside, to Belle’s surprise, Hezekiah instructed her to follow Quinn. The suggestion shocked her, considering how much he despised her being near Quinn unless it was absolutely necessary. That he would so easily, and willingly allow her to stay with Quinn made her stomach churn with unease.

Could Quinn be right about Hezekiah choosing the kingdom over her when the time came?

Not that it truly mattered, and she reminded herself that her sole purpose was revenge. Still, the thought unsettled her. If things unfolded as Quinn predicted, would she even be able to see her plans through?

"Shall we?"

Quinn’s voice jolted her out of her thoughts. He had suddenly appeared beside her, gesturing toward the carriage that had brought her.

Flinching, Belle turned to look at him, only to immediately regret it. The memory of catching him in an intimate act with the maid flashed vividly in her mind, leaving her tongue-tied.

How was she supposed to react after witnessing something so horrific? Just being near him felt unbearably awkward, and she silently prayed for some kind of interruption to save her from the situation.

"The carriage is ready," one of the guards announced, as if answering her silent plea. Belle seized the opportunity, quickly averting her gaze and walking toward the carriage, climbing in without a word.

Quinn smirked as he watched her retreat, fully aware of the reason behind her reaction. The memory of what she had seen didn’t seem to bother him in the slightest. Instead, it amused him, and a mischievous idea began to form in his mind.

"Have Ray keep watch for us," he ordered the guard, feigning weariness. "I have had an exhausting day." The guard looked puzzled, wondering what could have possibly tired him out, but nodded obediently.

When Quinn climbed into the carriage moments later, Belle screamed and widened her eyes in alarm. "Why are you coming inside?" She demanded.

"Coming can mean a lot of things, my lady. You will need to be specific," he teased, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Belle’s face contorted into a frown as she quickly turned away, her cheeks heating in frustration. She shifted her body to face the window, determined to ignore him entirely.

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