Page 26 of The Villainess Chose Naps Over Death Flags

"My personal life is not boring," Caspian said. "It's efficient."

"It's non-existent," Edwin corrected. "You work, you train, you manage the duchy, and you sleep. That's it. That's your entire life."

"I also read."

"Military strategy books don't count."

"They absolutely count."

Sterling cleared his throat again. "Gentlemen, if we could return to the matter at hand?"

Caspian set down the report he still wasn't reading. "What's your genuine assessment, Sterling? Professional opinion."

The older man was quiet for a moment, considering.

"I think," he said finally, "that the Duchess has indeed changed. Whether that change is genuine reformation or calculated strategy, I cannot say. But the change itself is undeniable." He paused. "The servants also mentioned that she watched you quite intently during dinner. In a way that seemed... genuine. Which, given her previous fixation on Lord Percival, is notable."

Caspian felt something odd in his chest at those words. "You're speculating."

"I'm observing," Sterling countered. "The servants report the Duchess was visibly nervous before dinner, yet engaged in genuine conversation once seated. She asked about your day, your estate. She apologized for past behavior. And she's agreed to dine with you again tomorrow night. These are observable facts, Your Grace."

"I told her we would have dinner again," Caspian said.

"And she said she'd like that," Sterling pointed out. "In my experience, when a woman says she'd like to spend more time with a man, it's generally a positive sign."

"Or part of an elaborate plot," Edwin added. "Could go either way."

"Helpful," Caspian muttered.

"I try." Edwin stood, stretching. "Look, I'll keep watch on her. My men will report anything suspicious. But Your Grace—" He met Caspian's eyes, suddenly serious. "Don't dismiss the possibility that she might actually be trying to make things better. I know you don't trust easily. Hell, I wouldn't trust her either after everything she's done. But if there's even a chance she's sincere..."

He trailed off, but Caspian understood what he wasn't saying.

You've been alone for a long time. You're about to be a father. Maybe it's worth hoping for something better than mutual avoidance and poison attempts.

"I'll be cautious," Caspian said finally. "But I'll... observe with an open mind."

"That's all we can ask," Sterling said, standing as well. "Shall I have the dining room prepared for tomorrow evening?"

"Yes. Same time, same arrangement."

"Very good, Your Grace." Sterling bowed and headed for the door.

Edwin followed, but paused at the threshold. "You know, for what it's worth—she has good taste."

Caspian looked up. "What?"

"The hedge she chose. It actually does have a terrible view of the eastern formations. The eastern terrace really is much better positioned." Edwin's grin returned. "Shows she was paying attention to the training, not just... other things."

"Get out," Caspian said, though without any real irritation.

Edwin left, still grinning.

Alone in his study, Caspian returned to the reports on his desk. Border patrol schedules. Supply requisitions. Monster activity reports. The usual organized chaos of managing a duchy and defending the kingdom's northern border.

But his mind kept drifting back to dinner.

To Caroline's nervous rambling about his "very impressive" kill count and how she'd immediately backtracked. To the way she'd made that joke about poison being "theoretically inconvenient." To how she'd actually laughed when he'd made his comment about the eastern terrace.