Page 20 of The Beast’s Unwanted Duchess (Icy Dukes #1)

"I think I still need to," she insisted. "I was…frightened by you at first, and confused. Before our wedding day, I had never met you, and all I’d heard were rumors—stories of the terrible things you’d done to those who crossed you. I didn’t know what my future would hold, marrying a man who seemed to have no need or desire for a wife.

So, yes, I was afraid. And honestly, there are times when I still am. "

"Is it the rumors that scare you, or me?" he asked, his face barely inches away from hers.

Alice swallowed. "Both?" she answered.

"Both?" he repeated and squinted his eyes.

"I still don’t know if the rumors are true or false," she explained, then let her eyes drift to his arm, recalling the scars that always intrigued yet troubled her just imagining where he’d gotten them.

"Also, Victor, you have all these scars and they are quite frightening.

I have tried to imagine what could have possibly caused them, and the curiosity is killing me. "

"Did you ask me about the scars?" he said gently.

"Well…" she stammered. "I couldn’t ask before. But I’m asking now, because… you seem to be in a better mood today. How did you get your scars? Did you fight? Did you hurt yourself on purpose? Or did… someone hurt you?"

As the words left her lips, Alice felt her whole body tense.

It was a question she’d never thought she’d voice, but the curiosity kept battling against the nervous energy running through her.

She had to know. She had to understand something about Victor that would give her a better perception of him.

But yet, as she looked at him, she could already feel the answer slipping through her fingers.

Victor wasn’t smiling anymore. He had that same look as he did at breakfast when he didn’t want to talk about something anymore.

She sensed he wouldn’t answer. He never spoke of his past, much less of something as private as the scars.

"I got them from the late Duke," she heard him say. "From my father."

Alice could swear that they paused in the middle of the dance floor, and the music began to fade, but that wasn’t the case. Nothing paused, but she froze inside, completely startled by his response.

"Your father?" she repeated, unable to believe her ears. She searched his expression, hoping to find some sign that he was joking or that she didn’t hear him properly. But Victor’s eyes were somber, reflecting a pain that seemed to reach far beyond the surface.

It was the first time she was seeing the look in his eyes, and in a way, she quite understood why he chose not to speak of it.

Slowly, she could see the wall around him breaking. He didn’t look as confident anymore, and he avoided her gaze.

"To attain perfection, one must endure pain. That’s why steel has to go through fire," he continued.

"My father probably said that to me over a hundred times.

It was his justification for the punishments he believed were necessary to mold me into a perfect Duke.

So, every time I made a mistake growing up, I got a few scars. "

"Every time?" she asked with widened eyes.

"He believed every weakness can be beating out of a man," he explained. "So, that’s what he did. When he wasn’t around, he would assign someone to punish me. I think back then, I got punished more for the things I didn’t do than for the things I did."

"Do you believe that?" she asked softly, her heart aching for him. "That pain is necessary for perfection?"

"I do believe it was his twisted justification," he replied. "But I’ve come to realize that pain can forge strength and resilience, things that can be mistaken for perfection. It can teach you what truly matters. I’ve learned to appreciate the good that has come from my suffering."

"That doesn’t mean it was right," Alice argued, feeling a sudden surge of anger at the injustice of it all. The thought of a child being subjected to such cruelty ignited a fury within her. "You shouldn’t have had to endure that, Victor. No one deserves to be treated that way, no matter the lessons they learn afterward. What good are the lessons when it hampers on your happiness? Isn’t that what matters at the end? "

Victor smiled faintly. "What? Happiness?"

"Yes," she answered. "I believe happiness is really all that matters. It makes life worth living. Everything we do as human beings should lead us toward that feeling, whether it’s through our relationships, our passions, or simply finding joy in the little things. Life would be empty without happiness."

"I understand that, but?—"

"Pain isn’t something noble," she continued. "It shouldn’t be. I think it was more of a curse than it was beneficial. You shouldn’t see the good in it.

In fact, I think the reason you keep yourself so guarded is because of it.

You could have learned to be the perfect duke without pain being the teacher.

Pain shouldn’t be worn like a badge of honor, and I am sorry to say but your papa was a terrible man for doing that to you. "

Alice’s words hung in the air, a confession she hadn’t planned but couldn’t suppress. She braced herself, expecting the storm—anger, dismissal, perhaps even an icy silence. Surely, she had overstepped, piercing the wall he so carefully maintained around his family and his past.

But as the seconds passed, she dared to glance up at him. And there, instead of anger or reproach, was the faintest smile softening his face.

The dance came to an end, and Victor stepped away from her to take a bow. When he lifted his head, he was smiling again. Alice’s eyebrows furrowed.

"What is it?" she asked as he led her towards the edge of the dance floor. "Why are you smiling all of a sudden?"

Victor’s smile widened. "I find your sudden anger amusing," he replied, his voice light. "One would think that you were at the receiving end of the punishments I endured."

Alice exhaled. "Well, what is wrong is wrong," she said. "And I’m sorry you had to experience that and that you have the scars as a constant reminder of it."

Victor stood by her side. "Thank you," he said.

Alice locked eyes with him, and neither of them looked away.

Time seemed to stop, and she found herself completely at ease in his gaze.

Everything in the background was now reduced to a muffled hum.

Alice wanted to ask him why he never did anything to curb the rumors.

..why he let people believe that he was a terrible person when, in reality, he was only a victim.

But deep down, she understood his silence.

She knew how important power was in society.

It was often better to be seen as a monster than to show vulnerability.

It was better to be feared than pitied. Pity watered down power.

It affected status. Victor was the man he was because people feared him, and in a way, she benefited from that fear.

They had been at the ball for a while now, and no one had dared to throw a snide remark her way.

It dawned on her, in that moment, that this man was actually her husband. The man she was going to spend the rest of her life with.

Strangely enough, she was beginning to feel comfortable with that idea.