Lord Eude stood on the hilltop, his fists clenched as he glared at the sprawling town below.
The sun was setting, casting a golden glow over the barony and the mansion that loomed like a crown jewel at its heart.
Beside him, the two warriors of the Crimsan Blades stood silently, their eyes scanning the horizon, ever watchful. The mighty oak tree next to Eude bore the brunt of his frustration as he kicked it savagely, leaves rustling in protest.
"Damn it!" he spat, pacing furiously.
"Who the fuck is that kid?" His voice was sharp, filled with a mix of anger and incredulity.
One of the warriors, a tall man with scarred features and a broadsword strapped to his back, spoke up. "Whoever he is, my lord, he's no ordinary boy. And that woman with him... there's something unsettling about her. Her power—it's not natural."
The second warrior, a wiry man with piercing eyes, nodded in agreement. "That boy, even at Tier 6, exudes power beyond what we've encountered. It's as though he's hiding his true strength. And the woman... she felt like a storm waiting to break."
Eude cursed again, his mind racing. "Find out everything about him. I want to know where he came from, who he is, and why the hell Cleora thinks he's worth standing behind." His voice dropped, a sinister edge creeping into his tone.
"I'm not leaving her or this barony to some upstart brat. Cleora is too alluring, too... perfect. That boy can't handle her."
As he spoke, a wicked grin spread across his face.
"No, this isn't over," he muttered, turning toward his ornate carriage. "Get moving. I have plans to make."
The warriors exchanged a glance before following him into the carriage.
The driver cracked the reins, and the horses surged forward, carrying Eude and his entourage away from the hilltop.
Inside the mansion, the tension was palpable.
Nora was pacing the room, her brow furrowed and her teeth worrying her nails. The glow of the setting sun streamed through the large windows, casting long shadows across the room. Her thoughts were a storm of disbelief and frustration, and the words her mother had spoken replayed in her mind like a haunting echo.
"What do you mean you meant what you said?" Nora demanded, spinning to face her mother. Her voice was sharp, laced with shock and confusion.
Cleora, sitting with her hands folded in her lap, remained calm. Her expression was unreadable, but her eyes carried a glimmer of something resolute. "Exactly what I said," she replied, her tone even. "I pledged myself to Jolthar, and I will stand by that."
At the doorway, Nora's older brother stood frozen, his jaw slack with disbelief. He glanced between his mother and Jolthar, his wide eyes betraying his struggle to comprehend the situation.
Jolthar, meanwhile, stood by the window, his back to the room as he watched the last rays of sunlight fade beyond the horizon. He was silent, his posture relaxed yet alert, his mind running with what Cleora said now. He thought she was acting to send off the lord Eude, but it seems like she really want him.
Nora's frustration boiled over. "Mother!" she snapped, taking a step closer to Cleora. "You can't be serious! This... this boy—" She gestured toward Jolthar, her voice rising. "—is hardly someone you can claim as your husband!"
Cleora's gaze sharpened, and her tone grew firmer. "Watch your tone, Nora."
Nora threw her hands up in exasperation. "You can't be doing this! Do you know what people will say? What Lord Eude will do?"
Cleora stood, her movements graceful yet commanding. "I don't care what people say," she said firmly. "And as for Lord Eude, he has no claim over me or this barony. I have made my choice, and I will not be swayed."
Nora stared at him, her lips parting as if to retort, but no words came. Her frustration boiling over as she glared at her mother.
Meanwhile, far from the mansion, Lord Eude's carriage rumbled along the darkening road.
Inside, Eude leaned back in his seat, a cruel smirk playing on his lips as he plotted his next move. The Crimsan Blades seated across from him watched silently, their expressions unreadable.
Eude's mind churned with schemes. "If Cleora thinks she can defy me, she's sorely mistaken," he muttered to himself.
"And as for that boy... I'll make him regret ever stepping into my path."
The carriage disappeared into the night, leaving a trail of dust and foreboding in its wake.
Back in the mansion, in the room where they all were present, light flickered as the wind whistled in through the windows.
Nytheria, curious about the discussion, propped herself on a sofa, her legs crossed as she leaned back.
Cleora's calm yet resolute demeanour filled the room, her serene expression hiding the gravity of her words. "My dear child," she said softly, her tone unwavering, "he is the perfect husband I could ask for."
Nora's eyes widened in disbelief, narrowing sharply as her annoyance became evident. Her arms crossed defensively as she raised her voice. "Mother! What are you talking about? He's even younger than my brother! He could practically be your son!"
Cleora's smile deepened, her gaze steady. "Age has nothing to do with people's feelings, does it?" She replied, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly, as if daring her daughter to challenge her reasoning.
Nora took a step back, clearly unsettled. But Cleora, always the poised baroness, wasn't finished.
With a sudden glint of mischief in her eyes, she added, "Wait a moment. Is the reason you're so opposed to him... perhaps because you like him yourself? If that's the case, dear, just tell me. I will gladly step aside."
The effect of those words was instantaneous. Fınd the newest release on novel·fire·net
Nora's cheeks flushed a deep red as she flailed her hands wildly in front of her.
"No! NO! A big NOOO!" she blurted out, her voice reaching a pitch that was almost comical. "That's not it at all, Mother!"
Jolthar's brows knit together, hurting how she rejected him like he was some creep she didn't want around.