Chapter 34
Aurora woke just before dawn. Unable to fall back asleep, she changed and grabbed a blanket and quietly slipped out of her room.
The manor was still asleep.
The corridors were silent; the servants tucked safely in their beds. Only the knights on duty patrolled the halls, their footsteps echoing softly through the darkness.
Aurora made her way to the training court. To her surprise, it was completely empty.
Perfect.
She spread the blanket across the ground, removed her shoes, and sat cross-legged.
Closing her eyes, she took a slow breath.
Then another..........And another.
For the first time since returning to the past, Aurora allowed herself to meditate.
A small smile appeared on her lips. God, she had missed this. Meditation had always been her escape.
Her quiet place.
Her chance to breathe when life became overwhelming.
In her previous life, she had attended yoga classes with Sarah, her modern-day mother.
Sarah had insisted on their weekly mother-daughter time. At the time, Aurora had pretended to complain. Now she would have given anything for one more class.
One more lecture...........One more hug.
A wave of sadness washed over her.
She had always compared Sarah to Duchess Eleanor.
With Sarah, she had shared yoga classes, movies, and lazy afternoons on the couch.
With Eleanor, it had been tea parties, shopping trips, and formal lessons.
Different worlds...........Different mothers.
Yet both had loved her in their own way. The realization made her chest ache.
"I miss you," she whispered.
The morning breeze carried her words away.
Meanwhile, Turner was heading toward the training court. He intended to complete his own training before Aurora arrived for her lessons. Instead, he found her sitting alone in the centre of the yard.
His steps slowed.
She looked peaceful.
Almost fragile.
Something about the sight made him stop. So, he remained hidden and watched.
After nearly half an hour, Aurora rose gracefully to her feet. Then she began moving.
Turner's eyebrows shot up.
That was, not noble etiquette training, her movements were precise. Controlled.
Fluid............A punch..........A kick................A pivot..............Another strike.
Turner starred, that looked suspiciously like combat.
Aurora moved through a series of karate and kickboxing forms. Her body remembered every motion.
Every stance.........Every movement.
This had been her thing with Mike. Her modern-day father. A soft laugh escaped her. Mike had only had a daughter. When she was younger, Aurora had worried he would miss out on father-son activities.
So, she had signed up for kickboxing.
Then karate.
Then boxing.
Then baseball.
To her surprise, Mike had attended every lesson.
Every competition.
Every practice.
He had cheered louder than everyone else.
Even when she lost. Especially when she lost. A lump formed in her throat.
"I miss you too, Dad."
The words felt painfully small.
In this life, she had shared different moments with Duke Owen.
Chess.
Books.
Political discussions.
Quiet afternoons in the study.
Different memories.
Different fathers.
The same love.
The thought brought both comfort and heartbreak.
A shadow moved across the training yard. Aurora immediately became alert. Her body tensed. For a brief, moment, fear flashed through her.
Was someone watching her?
Had she been discovered?
Then the figure stepped into the light.
Turner.
Aurora relaxed instantly, "Good morning, Turner."
Turner smiled, "Good morning, Lady Aurora."
Aurora pointed a finger at him, "Didn't we agree that you would call me Aurora when no one else is around?"
Turner sighed dramatically, "I forgot."
"Liar."
His expression remained completely serious, "I am wounded by your lack of trust."
Aurora laughed, "You will survive."
"Barely ", The corner of Turner's mouth twitched.
He seemed far too pleased with himself.
"Are you ready for training?" Aurora asked as she reached for her boots.
"Aurora."
"Mm?"
"What exactly, were you doing just now?"
Aurora froze.
Just slightly.
Not enough for most people to notice. Unfortunately, Turner noticed everything.
"What do you mean?"
"The punching."
"Oh."
"The kicking."
Aurora coughed.
"The spinning."
Aurora looked away, "I was stretching."
Turner blinked, "You call that stretching?"
"Very aggressive stretching."
Turner stared at her.
Aurora stared back.
Neither moved.
Finally, Turner laughed. A real laughed. The sound surprised, both of them.
"It looked like hand-to-hand combat."
Aurora's heart skipped a beat.
Think.
Think.
Think.
"When I was younger, Father taught me a few things."
The lie came surprisingly easily.
"I thought I should practice again. You never know when those skills might be useful."
Turner's gaze lingered on her. For a moment, Aurora worried he didn't believe her.
Then he nodded, "Fair enough."
Relief flooded through her.
"Let's begin training."
As the lesson continued, Turner found it increasingly difficult to focus. His thoughts kept drifting back to the previous night.
Aurora in his arms.
The scent of her hair.
The softness of her voice.
The sadness in her eyes.
The way she had trusted him enough to cry.
His grip tightened around his practice sword.
This was becoming a problem. A very serious problem.
Because every day he found himself caring a little more. And every day he became more aware of the distance between them.
She was a future duchess.
Future queen.
He was a knight.
Nothing more.
The realization left a bitter taste in his mouth.
When the sun finally rose above the horizon, Emily entered the training yard.
Several hours later, Philip arrived.
"Good morning, Lady Aurora."
"Good morning, Philip."
Philip folded his arms, "My Lady, you have a meeting with the King this morning, and the banquet is tonight. Perhaps you should prepare yourself?"
Aurora groaned, "I almost forgot."
Emily gasped dramatically, "You forgot?"
"I was hoping the banquet forgot me too."
Turner snorted.
Emily looked horrified, "That's not how banquets work."
"It should be."
******************************'*
Philip smiled, "My Lady, I suspect half the kingdom is hoping you'll attend."
Aurora looked genuinely alarmed, "That is not helping."
Turner looked suspiciously amused.
Aurora narrowed her eyes, "You seem happy about this."
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
His smile said otherwise.
"I still don't intend to attend."
"Why?" Turner asked.
Aurora's expression softened, "My parents are both unwell. I don't want to leave them alone."
Emily immediately shook her head, "My Lady, we'll be here."
Philip nodded, "They won't be alone."
Before Aurora could respond, another voice interrupted.
"Good morning, Lady Aurora.", Julianne approached with a warm smile.
Aurora brightened, "Good morning, Julianne. Is Mother alright?"
"She is. In fact, Her Grace requested breakfast with you."
Relief washed over Aurora, "Then I'd better get ready."
As she headed back toward the manor, a familiar anxiety settled in her stomach.
The banquet.
The King.
The investigation.
The growing list of secrets she carried.
And beneath it all lingered a fear she couldn't shake.
What if she wasn't strong enough?
What if history repeated itself?
What if she failed the people she loved?
Aurora clenched her fists, No. She wouldn't allow that.
Not this time.
Not while her family was still alive.
Not while she still had a chance to change everything.
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