Reborn: The Duke’s Obsession

The grand dining room of the Carson estate was a picture of a formal, sunlit elegance. Amber was setting the long, polished table herself, instructing the maids with a gentle but firm authority as they followed her lead.

"No, Martha, the smaller silver forks are for the dessert course; they go at the top," she corrected a young maid. "And the water goblets should be placed just above the knives." She moved a vase of white roses to the very center of the table. "Perfect."

Lyra walked in, her expression tired and drawn. She saw the elaborate preparations, the feast being brought in from the kitchens, and the sheer number of place settings. "What is the occasion, Amber?" she asked, her voice flat.

Amber smiled, a bright, hopeful expression on her face. "Nothing, Mama. Just a family lunch."

"This is not 'nothing,'" Lyra replied, gesturing to the lavish spread. "This looks like you are about to throw a feast for a visiting dignitary. I don't think anyone in this house is in the mood for that right now."

"But we are a family," Amber insisted, her optimism unwavering. "And who cares what the mood is about? This is how we are supposed to resolve things, Mama. By coming together, by talking. I have already sent word to my brothers. They are on their way."

Lyra let out a long, weary sigh. "When has that ever worked for them, Amber? You might just make things worse by forcing them into the same room."

Amber's bright expression faltered slightly. She pouted. "What do you want me to do then, Mama? Just let them hate each other forever?"

"There is only one way to deal with a wound that has begun to fester," Lyra replied, her voice cold and pragmatic. "By cutting it out from the root, before the infection spreads and poisons everything around it."

Amber smiled, a little sadly this time. "Don't worry, Mama. I am sure it will work out this time. It has to."

In the afternoon, everyone in the family was seated at the beautifully set table. The atmosphere, however, was anything but beautiful. It was thick with a heavy, awkward silence. Philip sat on one side, his face a mask of cool indifference. Eric sat on the other, his own expression guarded and ashamed. Delia was not present; this was a meeting for the Carson family alone.

Philip was the first to break the silence, his voice polite as he turned to his grandmother. "Grandma," he asked, "are you feeling better today?"

Elena, looking pale but resolute, nodded her head. "Yes, Philip. I am fine."

Eric, who had been staring at his empty plate, finally looked up. He had hesitated for a while, but he knew he had to speak. "I know that my wife and I have caused you all so much concern," he said, his voice low and full of a deep, genuine remorse. "I apologize for the deception, and for the pain it has caused."

Philip, not to be outdone in this performance of morality, spoke up as well. "I am sorry as well," he said, his own voice smooth and sincere.

Eric looked at Philip, a single thought coming to his mind. What is he up to now?

"I feel as if I am the one who has brought all of this turmoil into our once peaceful home," Philip continued, a look of profound regret on his face. He looked directly at Lyra. "But then, I hope you can at least try to consider the difficult position that Lady Anne and I now find ourselves in."

"That is enough, Philip," Elena said, her voice firm. "Let us just forget about the past and move on…"

"I am sorry for cutting you short, Grandma," Philip interrupted, his tone still perfectly respectful. "But there is just one more thing I need to bring to light." He looked at Eric, then at the rest of the family. "I just thought it was strange, that is all. That Mother accepted Delia so quickly and so willingly into our family." He then turned his full attention to Lyra. "I heard that you presented Delia with a certain set of terms for her marriage to Eric."

Lyra held his gaze, her own expression unreadable.

"You told her to convince Eric to come back to the Carson Textile company within six months," Philip stated, revealing the secret to the entire table.

Elena looked at her daughter-in-law, her own eyes wide with a new, shocked surprise. "Lyra? That is not true, is it?" she asked.

"It is all in the past now, Mother," Lyra replied, her voice a little too quick, a little too dismissive. "I never truly thought it would happen, anyway."

"So you just want to bury it?" Philip asked, his voice now rising with an exaggerated pain. "That you tried to take me down from the very beginning?"

Lyra, shocked and confused by how Philip was twisting the scenario, let out a small, disbelieving, "What?"

"Twenty years ago," Philip continued, his voice now a low, tragic monologue for the entire room to hear, "I got into a terrible accident, an accident that was caused by your son, I even tried to save him, and now I cannot use my leg properly. And now, thanks to your little deal with his new wife, I might lose my spot as the rightful successor of the Carson establishment." He let out a dry, bitter chuckle. "What am I supposed to do when a mother and her favorite son are so clearly working against me? I don't have a chance here, do I?"

Everyone was silent, stunned by his public, gaslighting performance.

Lyra was the one who finally spoke. Her voice was no longer sad or hurt. It was as calm and as cold as a frozen lake. "I am against you, Philip?" she asked quietly. "If I was truly against you, then after your father's death, I would have pulled some strings with the royal court to give your father's duchy, the Duchy of Kaulder, to Eric. But that would have been wrong of me, because it is your birthright, and I would never, ever violate someone else's rights. That is why you, and not Eric, now bear the title Duke Philip of Kaulder."

She continued, her voice gaining a quiet, righteous strength. "Eric, on the other hand, later earned the earldom of Elinburgh as a gift, a reward for his own hard work and his service to the crown. He earned it himself. It was not given to him by me." She looked at her stepson, her own eyes now shining with a fierce fire. "And you dare to say that I am against you?"