Return of the General's Daughter-Chapter 244: The Heir 2

Eloisa’s gaze darkened, her nails digging into her palms, drawing a bit of blood. How could she fail to see the signs? The whispers, the hidden glances—she should have seen it. She was fooled by Linnea’s simplicity.

All those years, Linnea had walked around the estate with her head bowed, her demeanor gentle and obedient. But it was all a ruse. She had hidden a son right under her nose.

A son. The duke’s only son.

Her lips curled in disdain, her mind whirling back to that night—the night Linnea had given birth. The memory returned in fragments: the rushed whispers, the doors closed a little too quickly, Linnea’s absence stretched longer than it should have. She had peeked at the baby’s gender then and was sure it was a girl. Did they replace it?

Eloisa’s hands clenched tighter. How dare they?

But it was too late to strike now. Not with Connor hugging Sandoz as if the boy was a precious gem. None of the other concubines also bore him a son. The duke of Arces would be doomed if he could not produce an heir.

Eloisa’s gaze lingered on the face of the boy who was relishing in his father’s embrace. He was indeed an Arces. And of all people, he had to look like Prince Dakota. Who would doubt his lineage?

The duchess’s eyes flicked to Linnea as she approached. She was standing beside the duke, her hands pressed together as if in prayer. A flicker of hatred passed through Eloisa’s eyes, and she masked it with a sharp smile. "Congratulations," she sneered, her voice dripping with false sweetness. "I never knew you could hide such important news from the duke. It is good that the boy was not harmed. If you hadn’t hidden his identity, would the boy have been kidnapped in the first place?"

Linnea’s eyes met Eloisa’s, and for the first time, Eloisa saw something that had never been there before: courage and defiance.

Linnea straightened, still holding Sandoz’s hand. "A mother would do anything to protect her child. If I haven’t hidden his gender, do you think he could live past one year?" Linnea replied softly, but the strength in her voice made Eloisa’s smile falter.

"The two of you, stop that venomous exchange. We are at somebody’s residence." Duke Arces snapped at them. Then he shifted his focus to the boy in his arms.

"Sandoz," he said again, savoring the name on his tongue. His heart squeezed painfully. He had missed so much. "How old are you now, son?"

Sandoz blinked, his gaze darting to Lara for reassurance before answering. "I’m seven, Father."

Seven years. Connor swallowed the grief that rose in his throat. He had lost seven years. I promise you, I will never let you down again." He whispered.

Lara watched silently as Duke Arces adored his son. She was sure that Sandoz would no longer be bullied or harmed again. He had his father’s protection. Her eyes strayed to Linnea, whose hands were clasped tightly at her chest, her lips moving soundlessly in prayer. Linnea’s gaze found Lara’s, and the two women shared a moment of silent understanding—an unspoken alliance.

The duke bid goodbye after thanking Lara once again. He left several boxes of gifts for Lara and the Norse family. Sandoz struggled out of his arms and hugged Lara, tears and snot filled his face.

"Don’t be sad. You can always come visit, and I will also visit you."

...

Back at the Arces castle, the heavy oak doors of the main gate swung open with a resounding crash. Several knights and servants lined up to welcome the duke’s carriage.

A man strode in, his boots echoing on the stone floor. His hair was silver at the temples, but his back was straight and his eyes sharp. He assisted the duke and duchess as they got out of the carriage. He was surprised when the duke did not leave but assisted a little boy and Lady Linnea down the carriage.

Connor straightened, his hand still resting protectively on Sandoz’s shoulder. "Everyone, I want you to meet my son."

A ripple of shock moved through the gathered servants and guards, and their whispers and murmurs filled the air.

The duke has a son?

He looked at the knight, who was surprised at his announcement. "Sir Jansen, from now on, you will teach Sandoz swordmanship and archery and assign a reliable and trustworthy knight to keep him safe.

"It is my honor to do so, Your Grace."

Jansen raised an eyebrow, his eyes hardening slightly before he stepped forward. He knelt in front of Sandoz, his gaze appraising. "So, you are the young Lord Sandoz," he said, his tone even. "I’ll be your trainer moving forward."

Sandoz blinked, his shoulders squaring a little. "Thank you, Sir, for taking me under your care."

The knight chuckled, the sound low and unexpected. "Sandoz, a good name for a strong boy." He straightened after patting his head, his gaze snapping back to Connor. "I take it there will be changes?"

"There will be," Connor confirmed, his eyes never leaving Sandoz. "From this moment forward, Sandoz is acknowledged as my son and heir. And I expect him to be treated as such."

Eloisa’s sharp intake of breath cut through the silence. Her fists clenched, and her face turned pale with rage. "You can’t just declare him heir! How about your eldest daughter?"

Connor turned slowly to face her, his eyes colder than ice. "I thought you are smart. How could a daughter inherit a title? Don’t challenge me, Eloisa." His voice was threatening, coiling like a viper.

Eloisa opened her mouth, then snapped it shut.

Sandoz’s eyes glimmered with hope and pride, and for the first time, he straightened under the weight of his father’s acknowledgment. He didn’t need to dress up as girl anymore. He could freely expressss himself without fearing of being harmed. He was a son. A duke’s son.

Standing beside the duke, Eloisa’s eyes gleamed with something darker. Her thoughts churned, calculating, turning over possibilities. If Linnea thought this was over, she was gravely mistaken. There were still cards to be played. Her gaze flicked to Linnea, who was holding Sandoz’s other hand. She now dared to stand side by side with the duke.

How clever you’ve become, Linnea, she mused darkly. But let’s see how long your little miracle lasts.

A slow, thin smile stretched across her lips as her eyes drifted back to the mother and son.