Free Web NovelChapter 52: An Indisposed Duke
Chapter 51: An Indisposed Duke
Lyria’s POV
I lingered in the shadows, my back pressed against the cold marble of the pillar, the polished floor reflecting the soft glow of the chandeliers above like captured stars. The scent of incense and warm wax mingled with the subtle perfume of nobles moving in practiced rhythm, swirling around me in waves I could not escape.
My body ached from the work I had done in the stables earlier, muscles pulled and stiff, joints protesting with every breath. A yawn clawed its way past my lips, and I pressed a hand to my mouth.
If not for the Queen’s command, I would have been curled upon my narrow bed long before now. But shadows were my lot tonight, and shadows I would remain, for the price of failing her orders was far higher than the ache in my bones.
From my vantage point, Jacinta gleamed like a jewel at the center of the ballroom. Her baby-blue gown spilled outward in cascades of silk, the fabric catching the light of the crystal chandeliers so that each subtle fold seemed to shimmer with its own private luminescence.
The layers of her skirt moved with the precision of a tide, floating above the polished marble as if the waves themselves had been tamed into cloth. Her golden hair, swept back in delicate waves, caught the light and refracted it into subtle halos around her head. She might have been beautiful if not for the bitterness of her heart, but I did not allow myself the luxury of even thinking that; the exhaustion dulled everything to gray.
I scarcely moved to the music. The violins, the soft hum of the harp, the undercurrent of cello — it might as well have been distant murmur in my ears. My eyelids drooped, threatening to give in to the pull of sleep I had denied myself all day. Still, I remained, because Jacinta’s shadow I must be, and a shadow I would remain, even if every bone in my body demanded surrender.
Then, abruptly, the music ceased. The violins stilled mid-note, the harp’s strings sagged into silence, and the murmurs of the crowd faltered. The King rose from his throne, his presence slicing through the room with an authority that rendered conversation moot. His dark eyes swept across the assembly, sharp and precise, and for a moment the ballroom felt impossibly vast and impossibly silent at once.
The footman stationed near the dais straightened instantly, his hands clutching a scroll with ceremonial rigidity. The King’s voice, low and deliberate, cut across the hall.
"Announce the spouses."
The footman cleared his throat and began, each suitor stepping forward as they were called.
"His Grace, Duke Alistair Thorncrest of Highmoor."
"His Grace, Duke Marcellus Frostmere of the Northern Reach."
"His Grace, Duke Lucian Aurelgrave of Eastmere."
"The Most Honorable Marquess Rowan Blackvale of Duskwell."
"Marquess Adrian Silverwyn of Crestfall."
"Marquess Theodore Velmora of Greenhaven."
"Earl Benedict Hawthorne of Windmere."
"Count Elias Thornleigh of Brightwater."
"Baron Frederick Ashcombe of Ironridge."
"Baron Julian Redwick of Stoneford."
"Count Matthias Greystone of Northvale."
"Baron Oliver Fairmont of Silverbrook."
"His Grace, Duke Evander Valenridge of Blackmere."
There was silence as no one stepped forward. Everyone turned towards the doors, waiting for the Duke to walk through.
The footman cleared his throat, louder this time, as he called out again.
"His Grace, Duke Evander Valenridge of Blackmere."
Whispers spread through the nobles like wildfire. Some murmured of arrogance, others of neglect, others still of scandal.
"Perhaps he will appear tattered, as last he did," a lady whispered, hand to her mouth. "Or has he declined entirely?"
Minutes crawled by. The Duke of Blackmere did not appear. I could see the King’s brow crease, the Queen’s eyes narrowing ever so slightly, their glances meeting across the dais like swords unsheathed.
I wondered if perhaps he was still taking a nap at the same place where he had been earlier this morning. I doubted it, though.
Finally, a footman scurried forward, hesitating as he approached another servant. He whispered quickly, and then turned, once more clearing his throat. The King’s sharp gaze followed, darkening.
"What is it?" he asked.
"Your Majesty," the footman said carefully, "there is news."
The King’s hand gestured to a guard, who approached, bowing low. Another whisper passed, and the guard returned, frowning, speaking quietly to the King, whose expression remained unreadable. But the tension thickened, drawing the room taut.
I wondered what was being said, even as close as I stood. I couldn’t make sense of what they had told the King.
At last, the King raised his voice, carrying effortlessly through the now restless ballroom.
"His Grace, the Duke of Blackmere, is indisposed at this hour. He cannot present himself presently."
A ripple of murmurs passed through the assembly. Whispers collided in the air, speculation and intrigue layering thick as perfume over silk.
"Nevertheless," the King continued, his voice rolling through the hall like polished stone, "this shall not impede our proceedings. Fourteen men have assembled from every corner of our realm to seek the hand of my daughter — men blessed by the goddess herself. I find it most flattering that such worthy suitors have gathered solely for her honor."
A ripple of polite chuckles drifted through the noble attendees, though undercurrents of curiosity and tension remained, their eyes flicking toward the far doors where the absent Duke might appear at any moment.
The King’s gaze swept the hall, measuring each noble, each whispering guest, each glimmer of expectation in the eyes of those who hoped, prayed, or schemed. He lowered his voice slightly, leaning forward as though imparting a solemn truth.
"In order to ensure that our proceedings advance with suitable decorum and efficiency, and that my daughter may receive the attention she rightly deserves, there shall be a series of events designed to test character, skill, and virtue. Rules will be observed. The selection process shall proceed in an orderly fashion, so that no man may presume upon advantage unfairly," he said.
