It had only been a moment since Duke Caspien arrived at the imperial banquet, and already he was surrounded by noble ladies. They giggled, admiring his cold, divine face as if they'd just witnessed a miracle. A single glimpse of Caspien's presence was enough to drive them mad. To be near him, to share the same room, was a dream come true. Who would have thought he'd appear tonight—when everyone knew he never attended social celebrations?
Theron, who was watching beside him, scratched his nape in confusion. He had no idea what made the duke come all the way to the palace just to attend the emperor's birthday. Never once had his liege done so before.
Could it be because of what I said last time?
(Flashback)
"How are things at the northern border? Any suspicious movements?"
It was another typical day in the duke's study when Theron heard his liege speak. Duke Caspien was signing a stack of documents, looking magnificent in everything he did — whether working or doing nothing at all.
"There's been nothing suspicious so far, Your Grace. I've interrogated everyone in charge, and none of them noticed anything unusual," Theron answered. He paused, falling into thought as something from the northern border came to mind, halting the duke's hand mid-signature.
"What is it?" he asked.
"Also, I saw a carriage cross the border bearing the family crest — an eagle's head."
Caspien nodded. "Hm…" His fingers tapped gently against the desk. "It seems it wasn't nothing. Otherwise, Duke Rohane wouldn't be monitoring the northern border himself with the emperor's birthday approaching."
"Do you think they've started making a move, Your Grace?" Theron asked, his mind filled with possibilities.
Unlike him, his liege didn't seem the least bit bothered. He wore the same icy expression Theron had grown used to since day one.
"Indeed. But the Emperor's Hand worked so impressively that they managed to suppress the outbreak. He even sent his Eyes to handle the matter," Caspien said.
"Speaking of which, any interesting information about the duke's daughter? I'd be thrilled to hear it," he added.
Theron didn't think his liege would be delighted to hear about it. The lady he inquired about was one of the noble ladies to ask his hand for a marriage last year.
He remembered when the duke ordered him to burn every letter that mentioned marriage. He could still recall the deadly expression his liege wore that day. From then on, he knew—the last thing the duke would ever do was marry.
"I don't think you'll be glad to hear this, Your Grace." Theron hesitated for a moment, but when the duke paused his work and gave him a warning gaze, he spoke.
"Lady Yulianna was one of the noblewomen who wrote you a letter proposing marriage last year."
A moment of stillness settled before Theron glanced at his liege for a reaction. Yet he was bewildered to see nothing but calm on his face.
"Is that so?" he said curtly. "But I don't recall receiving any letter from her last year."
"Because you ordered me to burn all the letters that mentioned marriage—"
"Nor do I recall telling you to burn them," his voice cut him off.
Theron hadn't even processed what he meant before his liege spoke again, leaving him completely dumbfounded.
"Set aside all my work tomorrow. I'll be attending the emperor's birthday."
(End of Flashback)
Since when did he start considering attending the emperor's birthday?
Even as the celebration began, Theron was baffled to see the duke enduring the noble ladies' admiration and praise. He looked so calm that Theron almost thought he'd grown immune to them. What has changed?
As if unable to believe what he was seeing, he stepped closer to his liege and whispered, "Should I drive them away, Your Grace?"
But Caspien only chuckled, the corner of his lips lifting in a subtle smile. "And make me look bad for driving them away? You should ease up a little around women, Theron."
Dumbfounded once again, he could only nod in agreement. Countless memories of his liege flashed through his mind, recalling how he reacted whenever any noble lady approached him.
"Has being pampered and surrounded by luxury made you desperate, Lady Amilla? No matter how I look at you, you seem annoying and pathetic to me."
Lady Amilla was the first high-ranking noblewoman in the Elarion Empire to be rejected by Duke Caspien. Despite her tremendous wealth, beauty, and status, she had been the first to pursue him. It didn't take long for the line to grow, until the duke had no choice but to ignore and drive them away without hesitation.
Witnessing what those poor noble ladies had injured just to have a glimpse of his liege, Theron was determined to find out what made him put up with the attention he dreaded the most. He wanted to know what changed the duke's mind and the reason why they attended the emperor's birthday when his liege could just greet him in person.
The thought of it stirred the excitement Theron had long set aside. Yet just as things were beginning to get interesting, another scene unfolded before their eyes—one even more unexpected. Right then, Theron saw his liege's face light up with amusement as a noble lady slapped a baron across the face, leaving everyone around them stunned.
There's no one else than Yulianna McGregor herself.
The lady let out a soft chuckle as the crowd froze, massaging her wrist from the slap. "Oops… pardon my lack of manners. I must have let my hand slip without realizing it," she said, her voice laced with sarcasm and a deceptively innocent, beautiful smile.
Her expression dimmed. "It's a shame — I ought to punch Baron Roger's face until his jaw snaps. But since we're here to celebrate the emperor's birthday, I'll reconsider. I have plenty of time to do it later, anyway. May everyone have a great time and enjoy the party."
Having said her piece, Lady Yulianna walked away as if she hadn't left everyone in utter shock.
Well, except for one person.
Duke Caspien seemed unusually lively—delighted, even—as he watched the scene unfold before his eyes. Moments later, his laughter echoed through the imperial banquet, leaving everyone in stunned silence.
Theron could only stare, unsure whether to laugh with him or fear what that amusement truly meant.