Chapter 120: The Courtesy They Refuse to Keep
Chapter 119: The Courtesy They Refuse to Keep
The chamber had not grown quieter.
If anything, the tension had settled more firmly into its corners, threading itself through every breath taken and every glance exchanged.
The fire still burned.
The ease that had once lingered—however briefly—had long since vanished.
Lucian’s gaze remained fixed on Duke Thorncrest.
"Tell me," Lucian began, his voice calm—too calm, perhaps, "did you pause at all before acting?"
The question carried more weight than its simplicity suggested.
Thorncrest did not immediately respond.
Lucian took a step forward.
"Did you consider," he continued, "what your actions would mean for Lyria?"
"You dragged her into the light," Lucian said. "You placed her before the entire kingdom."
Still, Thorncrest said nothing.
Lucian’s eyes narrowed slightly.
"And you did so," he added, "without a moment’s hesitation."
Thorncrest’s lips curved into a smile, but it was devoid of humour.
"I find it curious," he said, his tone almost conversational, "that you persist in addressing her without her proper title."
Lucian’s jaw tightened.
"That," Thorncrest continued, "does not sit well with me."
He paused and then spoke up.
"Much like Valenridge—"
"Evander, please," Duke Valenridge said. "Calling me Valenridge reminds me of my ancestors."
Duke Valenridge lifted his glass slightly as he spoke, as though the correction were nothing more than a passing thought.
Thorncrest inclined his head.
"Very well," he said. "Like Evander said..."
He turned his attention back to Lucian.
"It was not we who placed Princess Lyria in the spotlight," he continued. "That distinction belongs entirely to the royal family."
Lucian’s expression did not soften.
"If the King has another daughter," Thorncrest went on, "then it was his duty to make that known."
His voice sharpened slightly.
"Not to hide her," he added, "not to diminish her, and certainly not to reduce her to a shadow at her sister’s side."
The words landed with quiet force.
Lucian exhaled slowly.
"And yet," he said, "you chose your moment."
Thorncrest did not deny it.
"You acted," Lucian continued, "knowing precisely what would follow."
"And you believe I erred," Thorncrest replied.
"I believe," Lucian said, his voice tightening just enough to betray his restraint, "that you should have exercised better judgment."
The room stilled again.
"Because now," Lucian went on, "she may very well be out of sorts because of what you’ve done."
There was a brief pause.
"Did you not see her?" he pressed. "Did you not observe her expression in that hall?"
For the first time, Thorncrest’s smile faded.
"I saw her," he said, tilting his head. "She wanted nothing to do with the spectacle."
Lucian’s gaze hardened.
"And yet," Thorncrest continued, "she found parts of it amusing."
Lucian blinked.
"Amusing?" he repeated.
"Yes," Thorncrest said lightly. "The end, in particular."
There was the faintest flicker of something in his expression.
"I believe," he added, "she laughed at the display Evander and I put on."
Lucian stared at him.
Then scoffed.
"Do not be absurd," he said. "A moment’s laughter does not equate to comfort."
His voice sharpened.
"It does not mean she was at ease."
"I am aware," Thorncrest replied evenly.
Lucian paused.
That answer had not been what he expected.
"I know very well," Thorncrest continued, "that she was not pleased."
His gaze shifted briefly toward the fire before returning.
"And I intend to apologize," he added. "Again, if necessary."
Lucian’s expression did not change.
"And yet," Thorncrest went on, his tone shifting slightly, "I am curious—you speak as though you represent her interests."
Lucian’s eyes narrowed at him.
"I speak with reason," he said.
"Do you?" Thorncrest asked.
Lucian gritted his teeth.
"How do you know what the princess feels?" Thorncrest continued. "On what authority do you speak?"
Lucian did not answer immediately.
"And more to the point," Thorncrest added, his voice sharpening just slightly, "why do you persist in denying her title?"
The words settled heavily.
There was no mistaking the implication now.
A faint, dangerous edge had entered the conversation.
"Or perhaps," Thorncrest continued, "you share the sentiment of the royal family—that she is not a princess?"
There was silence again, except for the faint crackle of the wood in the hearth.
Lucian released a disbelieving sound.
"You insult me," he said.
"Do I?" Thorncrest replied.
Lucian’s gaze burned now.
"I may be related to the royal family," he said, each word precise, "but I am nothing like the Queen."
Thorncrest regarded him for a moment.
"I find that difficult to believe," he said.
The words landed cleanly.
And with just enough force to push the line that had been steadily approaching.
Across from them, Earl Hawthorne shifted.
For the first time since the exchange had begun, uncertainty crept fully into his expression.
This had gone beyond conversation.
Beyond disagreement.
He glanced between the two dukes, his mind racing with the possible consequences of allowing this to escalate further.
Then, instinctively, he turned toward Duke Valenridge for help—but the man looked unbothered by everything happening.
The man in question sat with all the ease of someone watching a play unfold exactly as expected.
He poured himself another measure of whiskey, the amber liquid catching the firelight as it filled his glass.
He looked almost amused by what was going on.
"...You intend to do nothing?" Hawthorne asked quietly.
Evander did not even look up as he lifted the glass to his lips.
"Why would I?" he replied.
The answer was as smooth as the drink he took.
Hawthorne exhaled, clearly dissatisfied.
His gaze shifted again.
This time—to Baron Redwick, who had remained seated throughout.
He adjusted his spectacles once more, his gaze moving between Thorncrest and Lucian with quiet calculation.
For a moment, he said nothing.
"Duke Thorncrest," he said calmly.
Thorncrest turned his head slightly, meeting Julian’s gaze.
"I find myself in agreement," he said, "with Duke Aurelgrave. You should have thought of the consequences before dragging the princess out of the shadows—and perhaps taken her into consideration."
Earl Hawthorne stared, mouth open in quiet disbelief. He had tried to de-escalate the situation, not do the opposite after all.
