Chapter 82
“How could that ever be the case?!”
The man hunched his massive shoulders, putting on a show of exaggerated terror.
“How could I dare pick a quarrel with the future ruler of the East?”
Varkas quietly studied the man’s face, then lifted his goblet without a word. When Varkas refused to rise to the bait, the man seemed to lose some of his bluster.
Wiping the buffoonery from his expression, he spoke in a low growl.
“Still, I find myself rather curious. Just what was the Young Family Head thinking, betraying the First Princess to take in the Imperial Family’s greatest nuisance?”
A stifling silence fell over the hall.
Moving only his eyes, Varkas swept his gaze across the nobles seated along the long table.
The loyalists residing in Kalmor—the heart of the East—who served as the hands and feet of the Shearkan family, wore dark, displeased scowls.
The regional lords, however, were watching him with calculating eyes. They seemed intent on judging whether the young heir to the Grand Duchy was a man to whom they could entrust the future of the East.
He swirled the wine in his goblet, letting the deliberate silence linger before he finally spoke.
“Betrayal… quite the exaggeration. As everyone knows, my engagement was forged out of political interest. When circumstances shift, the nature of those interests changes as well.”
“And what, pray tell, has changed?”
A thick vein bulged on the man’s forehead.
“Are you claiming a few passing words from His Imperial Majesty carry enough weight to break a promise kept for years?”
“Do you consider an imperial decree to be a trivial matter, then?”
Varkas tilted his head, turning the question back on him. As though struck dumb, the man clamped his thick lips shut. His beard-shadowed face flushed crimson. Glaring at Varkas, he let out a harsh sneer.
“Well, that is exemplary loyalty indeed! A humble man like myself could never hope to imitate it.”
“Lord Gutban, I believe you are becoming overly heated.”
A middle-aged noble seated opposite him attempted a cautious intervention.
Gutban gave no sign of having heard. He seized a goblet brimming with wine, drained it in a single swallow, and wiped his mouth roughly on his sleeve before continuing.
“Yet the day must come when even our great Emperor steps down. Then His Highness the Crown Prince will become the master of this Empire. What do you intend to do then? Do you truly believe His Highness will graciously accept the East’s allegiance?”
“This marriage was arranged with the Crown Prince’s consent.”
Varkas spoke deliberately, tilting his goblet so his reflection wavered in the red vintage.
“In truth, he was the one pressing for it most urgently toward the end.”
“What in the world does that mean…?”
“Let us say the arrangement offered a certain degree of advantage to the Crown Prince as well.”
Varkas cut him off without warmth.
“It is hardly my place to go about broadcasting the private embarrassments of the Imperial Family, is it?”
Suspicion spread through the assembly of lords. His words could easily be construed to mean he held some leverage over the Crown Prince. Watching them trade covert glances, Varkas spoke in a lighter tone to ease the air.
“If that satisfies your curiosity, perhaps we might bring this pleasant exchange to an end.”
With that, he lifted his goblet and let his eyes drift across the hall.
“Drink, everyone. As Gutban said, is this not the very wine the future Grand Duke of the East received in return for seventeen years of devotion?”
The corners of Varkas’s mouth curved faintly. Bringing the goblet close to savor the bouquet, he added casually,
“When else might you ever taste such a delicacy?”
The nobles traded uneasy glances, then lifted their goblets with stilted laughter. Clearly, every one of them wished to end the confrontation there.
Yet the man seemed to have no intention of backing down. Bringing a fist like an iron mallet crashing down onto the table, he bellowed,
“How are we to believe that?! The entire Empire knows how dearly the Crown Prince treasures the First Princess. There is no way such a man would ever make a choice that tramples Her Imperial Highness’s honor!”
The faint smile vanished from Varkas’s lips. His patience was wearing thin against a man who refused to listen to reason.
He leaned his head back against his seat and gave a curt flick of his chin, signaling him to proceed. The man poured forth his venom without hesitation.
“Do you know what rumors are coursing through the lands? That even the heir of the East has been bewitched by that Taren witch! That just as the Emperor was ensnared by that venomous woman and betrayed the Empress, the next Grand Duke of Shearkan has fallen under her daughter’s spell and discarded the virtuous First Princess! Such vile talk is poisoning the entire Empire!”
The final words tore from him as a roar, rattling the hall.
“If the First Princess meets the same fate as Empress Bernadette, how do you ever intend to atone for that crime?!”
“I have held my tongue, but this has gone far enough!”
Unable to stomach another word, Daren Dru Shearkan cut in sharply.
“Alec Gutban, you are a vassal of the Grand Ducal house! Do you truly believe such insolence toward the heir of House Shearkan will be tolerated within Raedgo Castle?!”
“When our master strays onto the wrong path, it is the bounden duty of his vassals to raise their voices!”
Gutban barked back at Daren, then whipped his glare toward Varkas once more.
“The Young Family Head had the chance to make the First Princess—the darling of the entire Empire—the mistress of the East! Yet you dragged home an illegitimate brat, a creature of pure venom, as your bride. How are we to sit by and watch this madness unfold…!”
His raving cut off abruptly. Varkas, who had been watching him as though sitting through a pathetic farce, stiffened as well.
A slight figure, cloaked in a robe with the hood pulled low, had slipped behind the hulking man. Tipping a bottle of wine directly over his massive head, they unleashed a dark crimson cascade.
Sharp gasps hissed through the hall at the sudden intrusion.
The target of the dousing stood paralyzed by the sheer absurdity of it. Soaked through with wine, his expression dazed, he surged to his feet only after the last drop had drained from the bottle.
His towering frame, stretching nearly seven kvets tall, cast a menacing shadow over the robed intruder.
“What lunatic dared—!”
The man seized the intruder’s wrist, twisting it as he tore the hood away. As the fabric fell, a cascade of golden hair spilled out from within like a sunlit waterfall, seizing the eyes of everyone in the room.
The man froze, his fist still cocked as though about to strike her down.
Through the disheveled veil of gold, the woman fixed him with a venomous stare.
As if struck by an electric shock beneath that gaze, a faint shudder ran through him, and he swallowed hard. His dark pupils slithered across her features like thick tar.
Varkas, who had gripped his goblet hard enough to shatter the metal, stood abruptly. The moment he stepped behind her and pulled her slender form into his embrace, the man instinctively tightened his grip on her wrist, refusing to let go.
In that single instant, something ugly flared deep in Varkas’s chest. His eyes darkened as he looked down at the hand clutching her.
The man was still staring at her as if under a spell, his gaze tracing every contour of her face. A sharp chill crept down Varkas’s spine. Just as his eyes narrowed at the unnatural coldness seizing his blood, a sharp crack, like a crop snapping against a horse’s flank, split the silence.
The man blinked down at her in total bewilderment, looking as though his mind refused to process what had just happened.
She raised her arm again and struck his wine-soaked face once more.
“How dare you lay your filthy hands on me.”
Only then did the man shake off his stupor, letting go of her wrist as he stepped back.
END