Ch#160
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It was hardly a moment for celebration. A heavy, suffocating silence followed the Duke’s shocking decree. No one clapped, and no cheers broke the air; there was only a chilling stillness, punctuated by looks of sharp judgment and quiet revulsion.
The Duke had shattered the established social hierarchy.
The sounds of the night rushed in to fill the void. The wind through the leaves and the flicker of candle flames seemed to carry the weight of their silent condemnation.
“This is not a marriage we can ever honor as a union of status or prosperity.”
The remark drifted through the crowd. Most of the high-born women had shielded their expressions behind fans, making the source of the comment impossible to trace. However, those words acted as a spark.
Malevolence, usually masked by daylight, emerged in the shadows as biting criticisms began to fly.
“Does a creature like her even possess a lineage worth mentioning?”
“Dean… wasn’t that the Knight? The one favored by the previous Duke?”
“A commoner granted a title without precedent. Perhaps that was the seed of this corruption—the moment the bloodline began to rot.”
While the nobility shook their heads in genuine distress, the staff remained like statues. It was their duty to keep their faces blank before their social superiors. Yet, just as the elites whispered their scorn, the servants traded meaningful looks of their own.
“A mere daughter of a Knight.”
Marriage was supposed to be a merger of dynasties. Above any political or financial gain stood the sanctity of one’s name.
“I thought Guard Bert Dean was childless?”
The Duke was intent on polluting his own heritage.
“She is likely a peasant through and through.”
Had he chosen Lea Lintu, it would have been bearable. Though she lacked a grand title, she was at least a nobleman’s daughter with ties to the Connolly family. Instead, the Duke was dragging someone from an entirely different social stratum into the heart of the season.
The idea that the Duke would select a bride out of something as trivial as love was unthinkable. As the whispers grew, a bird took flight overhead. The crowd’s attention shifted toward the sound, yet one figure remained focused solely on the Duke. Adi recognized him instantly.
“It appears the Lintu family sent only a single representative.”
Yuls shifted his attention. Seeing the Baron of the Lintu house glaring at him with open hostility, a soft laugh escaped the Duke’s throat.
“Marchioness Connolly and Lea Connolly are currently at Pallesa Palace. They couldn’t possibly have made the journey in such a short time.”
“Lady Lintu is missing as well.”
“She is a recluse by nature. Word is she is currently indisposed, and since Marchioness Connolly has taken over as Lea Connolly’s chaperone, it wouldn’t be easy for her to make an appearance anyway.”
In truth, having surrendered her daughter, any bold move from Lady Lintu would only have earned her the Marchioness’s further contempt. But those calculations were now moot. Both the Lintu family and Marchioness Connolly had lost everything tonight. Regardless, Yuls had never promised them anything; he had never intended to bow to their expectations.
“Is this sufficient?”
“For the moment, I suppose it must be.”
Yuls tightened his hold on Adi’s hand, lifting it as he spoke. Beneath the delicate lace of the glove, he felt the calloused, sturdy hand of a warrior. It was a hand that filled him with immense pride.
He pressed his lips to the back of her hand. The air was thick with the sound of scandalized murmurs, but he didn’t care. To the contrary, Yuls found himself enjoying the spectacle—both the shock of the nobles and Adi’s own quiet reaction.
“The Lintu family seems quite displeased,” Adi noted.
“Their feelings are irrelevant,” Yuls countered. Whatever that man felt or intended to do was of no consequence. A minor grievance like that wouldn’t shake the foundations of his house. While some might distance themselves from him now, they weren’t about to run to the Royal Family. If they were the type to switch loyalties over such a small matter, they would have abandoned him years ago. Yuls already knew who the truly fickle ones were.
This was a perfect chance to filter out the disloyal. He intended to capitalize on it.
“Still, things might become difficult for you for a time, Guard,” Yuls added. If he felt any concern, it was for her. He suspected Adi didn’t fully grasp the reality of entering the lion’s den of high society.
Typically, an aristocrat who wed a commoner paid a heavy price, often losing their status or being stripped of their inheritance. However, as the sovereign of the South, Yuls was beyond such petty discrimination. The real problem was that the world would refuse to acknowledge Adi.
“So.”
“Your Excellency,” Adi interrupted. “Do you realize how I managed to survive my time at Pallesa Palace?”
“……”
He couldn’t claim ignorance. Since she was serving in the Escort Knight Division, Yuls had received constant updates on her activities. When Bert first brought Sir Adrian Grimaldi into the fold, Yuls had questioned why he’d recruited such a lowlife. Based on the reports of brawls and incidents, he had simply assumed Count Grimaldi’s son was a violent delinquent. Consequently, the way Adrina used the word ‘survived’ felt misplaced. She hadn’t merely endured; she had beaten her problems into submission.
“…You cannot solve your problems with the nobility through physical force,” Yuls cautioned. He knew she was smarter than that, yet for a fleeting second, he imagined Adi in a formal gown, striking aristocrats with a sheathed sword.
“Dimitri warned me. He said everyone in this circle carries a blade on their tongue.”
Her words suggested that while she might refrain from a fistfight, she was more than ready for a war of words. That was a relief, at least.
“And I am no stranger to territorial disputes.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes. I was a woman who was granted knighthood immediately, skipping the years of service as a Page.” Adi gave a small smile. “People whispered that I had no talent—that I only wore the armor because Bert was protecting me.”
Yuls hadn’t heard the details of what followed. Adi never complained, and Bert hadn’t seen fit to report it. But he understood the culture of the Knights; they only respected strength.
…Had she thrashed his own men?
“I can endure a great deal of pressure. That is how I was raised, after all.”
Behind her calm, unassuming exterior was a formidable soldier. Even now, a blade was concealed beneath the folds of her dress.
“I have spent a long time training.”
“Training for verbal sparring?”
“The nobility rarely says what they mean. If I choose to be blunt, would that cause problems for Your Excellency?”
Yuls gave his answer. Regardless of their petty whispers or cold shoulders, these people were ultimately beneath him.
“Formalities and strict etiquette are burdens for those who serve,” he said.
“Those who serve, you say?”
It occurred to him that those at the very top of the hierarchy never had to worry about offending others. Claude lived that way, and Yuls himself rarely bothered with social graces unless it suited him. It was a luxury of power he had taken for granted.
“I am certainly not their subordinate,” Adi observed, meeting the glares of the crowd with a steady gaze. When she looked directly back at those staring at her with malice, she actually chuckled. The sound was so unexpected that several nobles looked away in confusion.
“Correct,” Yuls murmured.
Adrina would take back the Grimaldi name and rule as his Duchess. Whether they liked her bloodline or not, he would ensure the world eventually bowed to her.
“Then there is no reason for you to worry, Your Excellency,” Adi said, appearing entirely unbothered by the toxic atmosphere. “And you do not need to shield me.”
In moments like this, Yuls saw a natural, regal authority in her. She had no formal training and seemed to ignore the social weight of the room, yet she never actually broke the rules of decorum.
“I will stand beside you and support you, ensuring no one looks down on either of us.”
“Not support me,” Yuls corrected, a light laugh bubbling up. He still held her hand firmly. “You only need to stand with me.”
He found himself wishing he was holding her skin instead of the smooth fabric of her glove.
“Stay at my side, not behind me, my love.”
Adi blinked at him, caught off guard. Every time he used that endearment, she looked as though she were hearing a foreign language. But then, a smile touched her lips—a different kind of smile than her usual ones. It didn’t remind him of Count Grimaldi at all.
Perhaps.
“Yes, Your Excellency,” she replied.
In that moment, she looked exactly as Yvette Grimaldi might have when she smiled.
“I will be by your side,” Adi vowed.
Suddenly, the sharp sound of glass shattering cut through the air. The noise was loud enough to startle a flock of birds into the night sky.
Yuls, Adi, and the rest of the guests turned toward the source of the commotion.
Macauliffe was standing near Claude, his skin pale as a ghost. Claude himself was staring into the distance, his features frozen in a mask of tension.
“It’s starting,” Yuls remarked.
Adi followed his gaze. Standing a short distance away was a person she never expected to encounter here.
“Lev.”
He looked like an apparition.