Chapter 52
Count Nigela Frazier.
He reclined in the expansive drawing room, nursing a cup of tea. Across from him sat an unwelcome sight.
Tedrick Frazier was there, his face flushed with excitement as he carried on a lively discussion with the Count.
“Brother, the children have arrived,” Lilius announced.
The effect was instantaneous.
The room fell into a jarring, heavy silence. It wasn’t the natural pause of a winding-down conversation; it was the sharp, defensive quiet of men who had just been told that enemies were in their midst.
I realized then that anyone with even a shred of intuition could feel the sheer animosity radiating from them. My memories of the original story suggested their relationship hadn’t been this strained—at least not on the surface.
But things had changed. The magical enterprise at Statis Plain had collapsed, and I was the reason. While I didn’t have the exact figures, both Lilius and Nigela must have taken a massive financial hit.
In truth, they owed me a debt of gratitude. Had that project moved forward as intended, the resulting catastrophe would have drained their coffers a hundred times more than the current failure. Of course, they were oblivious to that fact. Even if they weren’t, they didn’t seem like the sort of people who valued appreciation.
One look at the way they watched me confirmed it. There wasn’t a trace of kindness in their eyes.
“It has been quite a while,” Count Nigela Frazier said, his voice a deep, resonant rumble. “Lisian, Leon. And… Tulia as well.”
He struck me as the quintessential stern nobleman of middle age. After a brief, cold appraisal of our group, he jerked his chin toward the empty chairs opposite him.
“Sit, all three of you. Lilius, you as well.”
“As you wish, brother,” Lilius replied.
In the rigid etiquette of high society, the concept of ‘ladies first’ was absolute. A woman was expected to be escorted and seated before the men. Consequently, I had to take my place first.
The problem was that Tedrick was already settled in. I felt a surge of pure loathing at the thought of sitting beside him. He was already staring at me with a volatile mix of contempt and fury. My pace faltered as I approached the chair next to that unpleasant man.
Suddenly, someone moved past me.
It was Lisian. Usually, he was the picture of a graceful, angelic young master, always ready with a gentle smile and a helping hand. But his demeanor had shifted.
I wondered if he had sensed my reluctance to be near Tedrick. He couldn’t possibly know the full extent of the history between us. He and Leon were rarely at the Grand Duchy, spending the bulk of their time at the Academy or the Marquis’s estate in the Capital. Unless they were running a secret network of informants within the castle walls—which seemed unlikely—they would be in the dark. They had no rivals to monitor, and Tulia, their younger sister, had never been considered important enough to watch.
Furthermore, Lilius still possessed enough power within the main castle to effectively bury Tedrick’s various scandals. I certainly hadn’t enlightened Lisian. There seemed no point in staining his clean, untroubled world with such filth. Besides, I had already caused enough friction between the twins, resulting in the bruise on Leon’s face.
Though, to be fair, Leon had brought that on himself with his own behavior.
Regardless, I wanted to shield Lisian from the ugliness of my life. I preferred our quiet moments—discussing books, listening to him explain things I pretended were too hard to grasp, or simply talking about what we wanted for dessert the next day. These were the simple, domestic interactions I had once craved when I was Han Ina. I wanted to believe, even for a moment, that we were a normal family, free from the shadow of power struggles. Those peaceful intervals were like a rare patch of warmth in the middle of winter.
As for Leon, I had already written him off as not worth the effort.
I followed Lisian, my mind swirling with confusion, when another figure suddenly bypassed me with long, rapid strides.
In the blink of an eye, the seating arrangement was settled. Lisian had taken the spot next to Tedrick, Leon had claimed the chair beside Lisian, and I was left to sit next to Leon.
I glanced at him, bewildered. What was he playing at now? My irritation was brief, however, as the Count spoke again.
“I see. I am told you two secured the top rankings at the Academy once more.”
“My brother is a constant,” Leon replied smoothly. “His reputation as a prodigy is well-earned.”
“Lisian, what was your exact mark?” Nigela pressed.
“He earned a perfect score,” Leon answered for him. “I missed the mark by only two questions.”
I watched in surprise. Leon was taking over the entire conversation.
Count Nigela Frazier was a different beast than Lilius. While Lilius hid his malice behind a mask of cheerful uncle-like warmth, Nigela was somber and imposing. He was the type of noble who felt no obligation to be pleasant or patient with children. He was, by all accounts, a difficult man to navigate.
Yet Leon was handling him with surprising competence. It was obvious he was doing it to shield Lisian from having to speak with his stutter, rather than out of any concern for me, but it was impressive nonetheless. It seemed his protective instinct for his twin was deeply ingrained.
His intervention allowed me to relax slightly. I had been bracing myself for a confrontation with the Count.
“It is commendable that my nephews are the Academy’s finest,” Nigela said, his cold eyes sweeping over the boys before finally landing on me. “By comparison, Tulia…”
I stiffened.
“You have managed to achieve nothing of note.”
For a second, I considered biting back. I had challenged Aubrey and Lilius, after all. But I checked the impulse. There was no tactical advantage to a fight just yet. Unlike Lilius, who I could leverage through Tedrick’s failures, I had no dirt on Nigela.
I lowered my gaze in feigned submission, but a low voice broke the silence.
“Tulia is…”
It was Lisian.
“Still… quite young,” he continued. “She is at an age… where she should enjoy… her childhood.”
I blinked in astonishment. Lisian almost never spoke in public settings because of his speech impediment. He only did so when it was vital. He clearly felt that defending my dignity was a necessity. He didn’t want me to be belittled by these men.
I also noticed something else. His stutter was barely there. When Lisian was truly provoked, his voice dropped an octave and his words became much steadier. He was genuinely angry on my behalf.
It was such a minor insult, yet he was incensed. A strange, warm sensation stirred in my chest.
Nigela paused, studying us. “I was unaware the two of you had grown so close.”
Perhaps because Lisian was the most brilliant prospect the Academy had ever seen, the Count decided to drop the matter. He shifted focus with the practiced ease of a capital politician.
“In any case, Lilius?”
“Yes, Brother Nigela?”
“I have it on good authority that the weather the day after tomorrow will be ideal—clear skies and calm winds.”
“Ah, the hunting season is upon us,” Lilius noted.
“Indeed. There is a week before Father’s birthday celebrations. I wish to convene the local retainers for a competition before then.”
“Can you facilitate the arrangements, Lilius?”
“Of course,” Lilius replied with his usual oily politeness. “Our preparations are standard. The pavilions, refreshments, and seating are ready to go. We only need to send out the formal invites today.”
“Excellent. You are at your best when managing the internal logistics.”
Nigela’s gaze drifted back to me as he spoke. It was a pointed remark, intended to remind me of my place. His eyes were like ice.
I couldn’t help but wonder why every male relative in this family seemed to despise me. Was it really just the Statis Plain business? They were the ones at fault there. I had simply acted as a moral corrective. I was the one they had cheated; I was the one they had forced to live in a warehouse while they bled my inheritance dry.
Yet they looked at me as if I were a stain on their floor. Their lack of remorse was almost impressive in its audacity. It felt profoundly unfair, but without a powerful guardian to back me up, silence was my best weapon.
Still, sitting here with Lisian defending me and Leon providing a buffer was better than facing them alone. It was significantly better than I had anticipated.
“Tedrick,” Nigela called out.
Tedrick straightened up instantly, his face lighting up. “Yes, Uncle Nigela!”
“You still have that fire in you. Good.”
“It is only because of your guidance, Uncle!”
“And you haven’t lost your manners, either.”
Nigela nodded with genuine approval, treating Tedrick with a warmth he hadn’t shown any of us. Tedrick shot a smug, triumphant look in our direction, his chin held high.
