# 48
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As soon as he took a step beyond the open door, he felt the cool air of the hallway intermingling with the slightly warmer air of the inner hall. Edward looked up from the floor. The moment his eyes met that man's eyes, he realized.
His father's wish and his own wish had vanished like a passing wind.
Despite the far distance that did not allow his features to be accurately distinguished, his presence was overwhelming. Even the cloth banner hanging behind him could not overshadow his presence.
Was it because of his imposing physique? Or for his handsomeness, which arouses admiration even in the eyes of a man?
No, the real reason seemed to be the aura surrounding him.
The closer he got, the drier Edward's mouth became. When he stopped in front of the podium and looked up at him, the Duke opened his mouth.
“Edward Lincoe, Young Marquess.”
As if some force had bewitched him, Edward knelt on his left knee.
Ares watched him silently. The Marquis couple were visibly anxious, but Edward remained as he was, waiting for the Duke's words.
“I heard that you went to the Taylor Duchy on my behalf. It must have been a long way, well done.”
“No, Your Highness. I only did what I had to do.”
“Get up.”
Only then did Edward get up. Ares stared long into his gray eyes. A son adheres to the etiquette of loyalty before his parents do.
“Young Marquis, there is one thing I need you to confirm.”
Edward's eyebrows twitched in surprise, then he nodded.
“If my confirmation is required, it is my duty to give it.”
Ares pulled his lips into a smile. It was a smile capable of seducing the Angel of Death himf. Then he turned his gaze in some direction. Unconsciously, Edward followed his gaze.
Where the gaze stopped, there stood a woman who did not belong in this hall in the first place. Her white dress is dirty in many places, and her blonde hair is messy...
“…?!”
Edward's eyes narrowed for a moment, then suddenly widened. She was so different from the last time he'd seen her, and yet, how could he not recognize that distinctive blonde hair and those dark green eyes?
“But...why?”
At that moment, his mother raised her index finger towards the woman and shouted sharply:
“Eddie, are you saying you know a woman like that?!”
"…My mom?!"
A cold shiver ran down Edward's spine. But the Marquise, overcome by panic, did not notice her son's reaction.
“You try to survive by any means possible, but there is a limit to everything! How dare you slander my son’s name without knowing your position?!!”
"My mom!!!"
Edward shouted, trying to silence her, and at the same moment a calm, elegant voice intervened.
“I was going to apologize for causing you an unnecessary trip to Taylor, but it seems we are meeting like this. Young Marquis Linco.”
Grace took a step towards Edward. The Marquise opened her eyes wide, looking between the woman and her son. Her shock reached its peak when Grace extended her right hand towards the most precious thing in the world to her, her son.
"…What do you do?"
Despite the Marquise's empty question, Grace's eyes remained cold and still as a winter sea. When their eyes met, it occurred to Edward that who had summoned him here… perhaps it was not the Duke, but Grace.
Why is she here?
Who made Miss Taylor like this?
And why…
He left the questions that seemed like stagnant mud, and had to bend down and kiss the back of Grace's hand.
The sight of the son, whose life cannot be traded, kissing a woman's hand... was a shock to the Marquise. She couldn't speak, and neither could her husband. Even Flora, who was watching from afar, remained open-mouthed, only blinking.
“What…?”
The Marquise stared at Grace with troubled eyes like those of a ship in a storm. But Grace, who had mercilessly shaken her being, returned the same answer in a completely calm tone.
“I've said that many times, Marquise.”
“……”
“I'm Grace. Jesse and I can't be 'Invisible'.”
Edward felt like his heart was falling to the bottom of his chest. Unconsciously, he turned towards the Duke, and found his eyes sunk very deeply as he observed the situation. Edward felt an indescribable fear of the man standing there.
Grace took a step towards the Marquise. And in her eyes, which he thought were calm, a menacing flame burned as if it would burn the Marquise alive.
“The name of the girl who came with me is Jessie Molten. Her father was a knight in the Duchy of Taylor with a lower title, and he was burned to ashes protecting my parents until the last moment. By the Unseen.”
Taylor?
Why is the name of that house mentioned now?
The ranks of the nobles became turbulent, and the Marquise rushed in, grabbing her son's arm.
“Eddie…Eddie?!”
Edward gritted his teeth and whispered in a heavy voice:
“That's enough, Mom. It's Miss Taylor.”
They were terrifying words.
The Marquise could not believe what she heard. Miss Taylor?
She let go of her son's arm and shook her head.
"impossible."
Edward hurried to stand in front of her, blocking her from the view of the Duke and Grace.
“Mom, please.”
But the Marquise could no longer retreat. She's gone too far. She smiled and said to her son:
"You must be mistaken. Miss Taylor?! Look at how she looks. She looks like Miss Tyler."
Then her voice faded... and stopped.
“My hair is from my father, and my eyes are from my mother. I look more like my father. “As my ancestors always were.”
The Marquise's gaze was fixed on the flowing blond hair.
Taylor, Golden Wheat Fields.
Didn't it say that members of that house are born as if gold had been poured into their hair?
The corner of her eye twitched spasmodically.
As for Edward, seeing his mother as well, his mind became a blank slate. Before she was pushed further into the abyss, he had to get her out of the hall immediately.
This place… was a massive trap set by the Duke and Grace.
M.M.: And they succeeded 🔥🔥🔥
“Your Highness, my mother’s health does not seem well. I apologize, but we will withdraw.”
“I slept too long.”
Edward's hurried speech was interrupted by a cold, leaden voice emanating from somewhere.
“I slept... too long.”
The voice was not loud, yet it seemed to be planted directly in the ear, with the clear, strict enunciation that only someone who has received rigorous training from an early age possesses.
That voice, which was once classified among the ladies as the “tone of the highest nobility,” made the faces of the senior nobles of the Marquis’ faction darken.
Tok, tok.
The sound of a hard shoe heel cut through the tense air of the hall. Moments later, she emerged from the edge of the great cloth banner that represented Richmond.
Everything was the same: the straight back, the tense shoulders, the fluid movement like flowing water. Only the black dress, devoid of adornment, like a mourning dress, and her hair, which had turned silver and white, were different.
But that didn't matter.
The important thing is that
Queen of Richmond
She appeared in front of people for the first time in more than ten years.
MM: Finally 🔥🔥🔥😭
The nobles of the knights' houses rose all at once, and the nobles of the Marquis' faction were forced to stand up as well. Ares came forward and extended his hand politely, and everyone bowed. Grace greeted Eliza respectfully, and so did Edward. Only the Marquis couple remained standing, staring at her in amazement.
When Eliza took Aris's hand and went up to the podium with him, she saw anger in her eyes, and the couple finally woke up and saluted late. At the sharp look in the old man's eyes, the corner of Ares's mouth rose slightly and then fell.
“Duke, this old woman’s legs hurt and she needs to sit down. Get me a chair too.”
“No need, grandma.”
Ares led her to the duke's chair.
“Please sit down. I have two good legs, I will stay standing.”
Eliza laughed lightly at his apparent impudence, then a sharp pain struck her in her chest. Seeing the chair that Walter was supposed to sit on tore her heart. But she could no longer surrender to helplessness.
“Then so be it.”
Eliza turned elegantly and slowly sat down in the great chair. Her lady-in-waiting stood to her left, while Ares stood tall to her right, clasping his hands behind his back.
Eliza's gaze slowly passed over the faces of the followers lined up like spears. Some of them were expressionless, some were stunned, and some were holding back tears. When her gaze passed over Grace, who was standing politely, it moved to the heir of the house whom she trusted the most.
Eliza looked at the Marquis couple for a long time, then closed her eyes, and exhaled deeply before uttering his name.
“Henry Lenco.”
“…Yes, Grand Madam.”
“Pact Hill. Pact of Loyalty.”