Drakos held Ramsey's hand high with his left hand. His grip was so tight that no matter how Ramsey struggled, he could not come free. With his other hand, Drakos raised his blade high, ready to slice off the arm of the man who had insulted the dignity of his young mistress.
"I guess you won't be needing this."
he snarled.
He swung down with all his might, but before the blade could land, a powerful shout echoed from everywhere at once.
"How dare you!"
The blade in Drakos's hands suddenly snapped into two pieces, the broken edge whistling through the air and missing Ramsey's arm entirely. A wrinkled palm landed firmly on Drakos's armor, sending him flying backward.
Blood sprayed from his mouth as he struck the ground. The roles had reversed. Drakos was now the one bent over and struggling to breathe, while Elder Popas advanced toward him slowly.
The old man's wrinkled hand moved again, more terrifying than a hammer forged in fire. His palm struck Drakos across the face and sent him sprawling at the feet of Vera, who had been standing some distance away.
"Elder Popas! What is the meaning of this?"
Vera roared, her voice carrying through the courtyard. "You attacked my personal guard without provocation. If my father hears about this, it will be war. Is that what you want?"
Lucy stepped forward from behind her.
"That is right," she said coldly. "By striking Drakos, you attacked not only Vera but also me. Do you know the weight of your crime?"
Drakos tried to stand. His body shook from the impact of Popas's blows, yet his glare was still sharp and burning. He knew he was no match for the elder, but his pride refused to yield.
Elder Popas only smiled faintly, his expression unreadable.
Vera mistook that smile for reluctant submission.
"Do you understand the weight of what you have done?"
she demanded.
"The only way this news will not spread is if you kneel down and beg me for forgiveness."
Lucy smiled as she watched, enjoying the spectacle.
"Kneel before you?"
Popas asked in disbelief. His tone carried a touch of mockery. "Little girls, you both are quite arrogant, aren't you?"
"You still dare to slander my name?" Lucy snapped. Her face darkened with fury.
"That is enough. My father will hear of this."
"And mine will too," Vera added sharply.
"Even if we cannot secure an apology from your patriarch, we will demand your head. Tell me, Popas, which option do you think the patriarch of the proud Reed clan would choose? Lowering his status by apologizing to another clan, or taking your head instead?"
The three of them locked eyes, and tension rose higher and higher into the air. For a long moment it felt as though the courtyard was drenched in mud, thick and heavy. Then Elder Popas broke the silence with a quiet chuckle.
"You have diagnosed my punishment well," he said softly.
"If I had indeed attacked your guard for no reason, then your words would be just. But tell me this—what do you think the punishment should be for attacking an heir in his own clan?"
Vera and Lucy exchanged startled looks. For the first time, doubt crept into their eyes. Slowly, almost unwillingly, they turned toward Ramsey, realization dawning.
"Ramsey? Is that...you?" Vera asked, narrowing her eyes as though staring at the sun.
Lucy rubbed at her eyes, as if invisible dust blurred her vision. "That is really him," she whispered. "Look, Vera, he is standing. I told you."
For a moment Ramsey thought he saw something like happiness on Lucy's face.
Vera studied him again, a third time, and again she felt her certainty slip. Countless thoughts swirled in her mind.
The man before her looked so different, so unshakable. The same Ramsey she had once dismissed as crippled now stood firm and proud. She had always thought of him as a little bit good-looking, but this was something else entirely. His presence was sharper, his gaze colder.
Ramsey looked back at her indifferently, and the chill in his eyes made her heart falter. He had never looked at her that way before. In the past, he had adored her, chasing after her affection no matter how cruel or selfish she behaved. She had always been the same—spoiled, sharp-tongued, and selfish. Yet Ramsey had never stopped loving her.
Now everything was different.
"Why are you here? Do you have anything to say to me?" Ramsey asked, pulling her out of her daze.
She had come all this way with many things to say, but now her mind was blank. Her confidence crumbled under the weight of his indifference.
"So," Popas said, his voice breaking the silence, "what do you two ladies have to say for yourselves?
You cannot attack an heir in his very own clan and expect to leave without offering some sort of... compensation."
Vera stiffened. She ignored Popas's words for the moment and turned toward Ramsey instead.
"I… am sorry," she said hesitantly. "I did not recognize you, Ramsey. I came because of all the rumors. Now that you are no longer a cripple, I am sure my father will not object to matchmaking us again. We need to prepare ourselves."
She looked at him, waiting for a response.
Ramsey's lips curled into a cruel smirk.
Revenge was better served cold, when your enemies least expected it. She had asked, and he knew the perfect answer to give. He would send her very own words back at her.