Chapter 27: The Beast’s Birdle
Three days after the attack, the imperial summon arrived, inviting every high ranking noble to attend the Crown Prince’s annual gala at the Imperial Palace.
The Aldric Townhouse was in the capital’s most exclusive district, but it looked completely different from the brightly lit, luxurious mansions of other nobles. It looked like a gothic building instead.
Esme had been feeling uneasy since the explosion. And her overprotective husband had made things even more stifling.
He didn’t lock her in a room here, but the townhouse was far from a free place as she had expected. Eveyr’s shadow guards were almost everywhere.
Esme opened the door of her bedchamber and peeked into the dimly lit hallway. Two guards quickly crossed their halberds and blocked her way.
"Am I a prisoner in this house as well?" Esme asked.
"You are under the Warlord’s protection, Your Grace," the guard on the right replied, not daring to meet her gaze. "His orders are clear. You are not to wander the townhouse alone."
Esme smiled hollowly.
"Of course. Heaven forbid a breeze touches me."
She closed the door, sat by the window and opened the system interface.
[Status: High Surveillance]
[Target Agitation: Low]
[Point Generation: Severely Restricted]
Esme sighed. She couldn’t earn points if Eveyr controlled her surroundings. If she wanted to escape, she needed some kind of conflict.
The suffocating atmosphere of the townhouse lasted until the night of the Imperial Gala.
Inside Esme’s grand dressing room, three maids stood nervously near the wardrobes. They had heard the rumours that the new Duchess had somehow survived the monster’s madness, and isolation. They looked at her as if she were a ghost. They were more scared of her than Eveyr.
"Your Grace," the head maid said, holding up a modest black velvet gown. "The Duke sent this for you. The traditional mourning colors of House Aldric..."
Esme looked at the dress in the mirror and scoffed.
"Take it away," she said firmly.
"But...Your Grace," the maid stammered. "The Duke... expects you to represent his house. If you reject his gift, he might..."
"He is my husband, not my executioner," Esme replied.
She stood up and walked past the trembling women, opening the trunk she had brought here filled with the dresses she liked. She examined the dresses and pulled out a breathtaking gown in midnight blue. It was embroidered with silver thread that resembled the night sky.
The maids gasped and stepped back in horror.
Midnight blue and silver were not Aldric colors. They were the colours of Crown Prince Julian.
"Your Grace, please!" the maid begged, dropping to her knees. "These are Crown Prince’s colours. If you wear it... the Duke will see it as treason! He will execute you along with all of us."
"Let him try," Esme smiled, running her hand over the dress. "Help me put it on. And do not mess up my hair."
Realizing they had no option, the maids nodded reluctantly and stepped closer to her.
Just as they tied the laces of the gown, the door of the dressing room swung open. The maids squeaked, and bowed so low that their foreheads almost touched the floor.
Eveyr walked in, dressed in his black military uniform adorned with silver medals. He crossed the room and stood behind Esme in front of the mirror. His eyes swept over Esme’s reflection focusing on the colour of her dress.
"You are starting a war before we even step through the palace doors, Esme," Eveyr said.
Esme kept her expression calm and turned around.
"I am sending a message, Eveyr," Esme replied. "Julian thinks he can bomb our home, try to kill me, and I will show up to his party wearing funeral colours. He should know I’m not afraid of him and that his tactics can never break me."
Eveyr stared at her, a smirk appearing at the corner of his lips. He understood the game she was playing.
He stepped closer to her and pulled out a stunning diamond choker from his pocket. He wrapped his arms around her and fastened the necklace on her neck.
"Wear his colours, my stunning wife," Eveyr whispered, his lips brushing her pulse point under the diamonds. "Let him see you are not afraid of him. But with this...they will know exactly whose leash you are on."
Esme looked at the diamonds resting on her throat.
"But everyone already knows who owns me."
Eveyr smiled.
"You are wrong," he replied. "I want everyone to know who they’ll have to kill before they even think of laying a hand on you."
An hour later, their carriage arrived at the gates of the Imperial Palace. The grand ballroom was packed with all the high ranking nobles of the society. Dukes, duchesses, military generals, and royal advisors mingled, sipping champagne and laughing.
At the far end of the ballroom, near the Emperor’s empty throne, Julian swirled a glass of red wine. His spies had reported that Duke was planning a revenge on the night of the gala. He leaned closer to Sylas, who stood a step behind him, the collar of his shirt hiding his burn scar.
"Keep your eyes on the doors, Sylas," Julian sneered. "Aldric will come bursting through them like a rabid wolf. Once he loses his temper in front of the court, we’ll have him executed before midnight."
"Do not underestimate his obsession with the girl, Your Highness," Sylas warned.
"Presenting, His Grace, Duke Eveyr Aldric, the Vanguard of the North! And his wife, Her Grace, Duchess Esme Aldric!" The royal announcer said.
The hum of conversations suddenly stopped.
"Ahh," Julian smiled, setting down his wine glass. "Right on time. Prepare the royal guards."
Hundreds of heads turned simultaneously towards the grand staircase. Julian and Sylas looked up, waiting for Eveyr to appear.
But to their surprise, Eveyr looked absolutely calm and controlled. He descended the stairs with his usual predatory grace. His hand rested on Esme’s back, guiding her down. Beside him Esme looked at the nobles, smiling.
Julian’s arrogant smile disappeared immediately. The color drained from his face. Sylas stared up at the staircase, his eyes wide with a mixture of dread and awe.
"I told you, Your Highness, she didn’t just survive the explosion. She put a bridle on the beast," Sylas whispered.
