She turned her head slowly, and with only a single pointed look, the girl slouched, face sullen. She obediently folded her hands in front and didn’t speak another word, moving to take her place behind the royal couple, standing next to her siblings.
At least Quinlan’s table was as close to hers as one could reasonably expect.
The herald at the door raised his staff.
"Announcing the arrival of the Duskmere family!"
Quinlan’s attention sharpened as the new figures entered, dressed in black and silver garments woven with shining moon-like thread and trimmed in the dusky purples of the western isles.
he asked through [Master’s Link]
Ayame answered flatly.
She gave a mental shrug.
Kitsara butted into the conversation, brushing off the political tangents as if they were dust on her robes.
Ayame admitted.
Kitsara shouted.
Jasmine chimed in, feeling a lot less agitated about the topic than the foxkin.
Aurora couldn’t help but giggle.
The quietest voice decreed, out of nowhere. .
Everyone stopped their own train of thought.
she went on in her dreamy cadence.
There was a beat of silence.
Then everyone slowly turned to stare at her.
Ayame asked.
Blossom, sensing their gazes, merely increased the wagging speed of her tail, feeling very proud.
Her tone was so blissfully innocent that it made the telepathic silence ring even louder.
The official voice of the hall’s herald interrupted their thoughts.
"Duke Alastair Greenvale of the Eastern Territories, his wife Lady Isolde, and their daughters, Ladies Amara and Vivienne Greenvale."
The side doors opened wide, and Alastair strode in with confident ease, head held high as if the entire hall existed purely to wele him.
He was flanked by his coldly elegant wife, a tall woman with aristocratic bearing, and the twin daughters—Amara and Vivienne—both clad in identical dresses tailored to flatter. The girls looked ahead blankly, never once glancing at Quinlan’s table. 𝑅åΝȮ฿Êŝ
They had no choice in the matter. The moment he had enslaved them, his [Primordial Subjugator] class took effect. His orders could not be resisted. ’Do not look. Do not even glance.’ And so they didn’t.
Lucille, seated beside Ayame, sat still and quiet as the Greenvale family passed. Her eyes never blinked behind the mask. Her nails pressed hard into the armrest of her chair.
That woman.
Duchess Ophira. The snake woman who had ordered the assassination of her mother, Mirabelle, just so she could be the sole wife. The one who burned her old life down and forced Lucille into a life of hiding and promise.
She was the reason Lucille went from a noble’s daughter, raised in utmost privilege, to a homeless, defenseless girl forced into exile.
’Finally, we meet again... You look just as hideous as I remember,’ Lucille whispered inwardly. Despite Ophira walking with her head held high and an expression full of self-importance, Lucille couldn’t help but get a strange sense of satisfaction.
It took her two decades to meet the target of her revenge. In those two decades, she went from a hopeless teenager, to a dejected and depressed innkeeper’s wife, to now being a Bloodmonger, an upgraded Berserker, and a woman who was accepted into the family of a man even the most prominent figures could only label as an anomaly and a monster. She was accepted by such a powerful man despite being the sole woman who couldn’t offer him her virginity, making her a tainted woman.
At least, such was Lucille’s thought process on the matter. Naturally, Quinlan didn’t agree with her at all. She was not a tainted woman in his eyes but a wonderful existence deserving the exact same treatment as the rest of his lovers.
Nevertheless, Lucille wasn’t just accepted by such a man. She was an important member of the Elysiar family and a pillar of support said otherworldly entity leaned on in his rare times of need.
She became so much more than she ever thought possible.
Revenge was no longer out of the realm of possibilities.
She watched the back of Ophira’s head with cold eyes that her friends and family would struggle to recognize. This glare of hers was reserved only for this woman—and anyone who’d dare lay their fingers on her beloved family.
And then came the next announcement.
"Now presenting! Duchess Kaede Fujimori of Silverwind!"
The room stirred.
Ayame’s fists curled tightly under the table.
Now it was her turn to feel immensely strong emotions.
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