Inside the tent, Leoric finally burst into tears. "Father... Why has Mother become like this? Did we... Did we go too far? Shouldn't we apologize to her? Please?"
Lythas stared at the tent flap, which still swayed from her departure. His chest tightened with pain, and his wounded arm throbbed relentlessly.
He knew perfectly well how cruelly they had treated Giselle that day. But he could not bring himself to swallow his pride. He had grown accustomed to her devotion, to her forgiveness no matter what he did, and to the certainty that she would always return to his side in the end.
He refused to be the first to yield. If he gave in now and admitted defeat, she would resort to the same tactic again and again, forever holding it over his head.
He drew a deep breath, suppressed the unease in his chest, and forced his voice back into its usual coldness. "There's no need. She's only doing this to force us to bow our heads and drive Vivi away. She only dares to act so brazenly because she knows we love her.
"We can't fall for her scheme. If we give in this time, there'll be a next time. She'll think she can use this against us forever."
He looked at his son as though he were trying to convince the boy, or perhaps himself. "Don't worry. She won't be able to keep this up for long. Once she can't bear it anymore, she'll give in and come begging us to take her back."
Leoric studied his father's confident expression before glancing toward the boundless darkness beyond the tent. The unease in his chest only deepened, but he nodded anyway, despite not fully understanding.
…
Over the next few days, Giselle remained in her quarters to recover from her injuries and never ventured beyond her courtyard gate.
During that time, Lythas and Leoric sent their servants to plead with her countless times.
His Lordship's wound was troubling him, and he wished to see her. The young lord missed his mother and suffered nightmares every night. His Lordship had lost his temper again, and only Her Ladyship could calm him.
Each time, Giselle sent them away with the same response. "I'm injured and can't move about easily. Whatever my lord and the young lord need, they can ask Lady Chrysanthe."
As Giselle continued to stand firm, father and son grew increasingly sullen. Yet neither was willing to be the first to relent.
Then came Giselle's birthday.
According to the keep's customs, the lady's birthday called for a grand celebration attended by the noblewomen of the capital and members of several powerful families.
The steward had begun preparations early that morning, and no expense had been spared on the feast.
Yet long after the banquet began, neither Lythas nor Leoric had appeared. Even Viviana, who had enjoyed Lythas' favor of late, had not bothered to attend.
The steward could only offer an awkward explanation. "My lord is occupied with urgent matters of state. Lady Chrysanthe is feeling unwell, and the young lord... The young lord has caught a slight chill."
All three had chosen to absent themselves from Giselle's birthday banquet. It was nothing short of a public humiliation, an insult to her dignity before the entire gathering.
The guests exchanged knowing glances, and whispers soon spread throughout the hall.
"Isn't this going a bit too far, even for the Lord Regent? It's her birthday, after all."
"I heard Her Ladyship has fallen completely out of favor. Even the young lord has grown close to Lady Chrysanthe now."
"Tsk. To think how glorious she once was. And now, she can't even get her own family to attend her birthday feast. How pitiful."
"If you ask me, she's partly to blame. She couldn't even hold on to one man..."
Lila's eyes burned with tears she struggled to contain. "My lady, His Lordship and Lady Chrysanthe have gone too far! This is simply too much!"
"It's fine." Giselle's voice remained flat. "I'm tired. Announce that I'm feeling unwell and that the banquet is over."
Lila stared at her in disbelief. "But my lady, the feast has only just begun..."
"Do as I say." Giselle's voice was calm, but her tone left no room for argument.
With no other choice, Lila departed to carry out her orders, barely able to hold back her tears.
…
After the last guest had left, Giselle set off for her courtyard. However, as she passed the west wing where Viviana resided, she noticed a small figure stationed outside the courtyard gate.
It was Leoric.
The boy sat on the stone steps in his thin nightclothes, his knees drawn tightly to his chest and his small face unusually tense.
From within the west wing came faint but unmistakable sounds of intimacy.
Giselle slowed her steps.
Leoric seemed to hear her approach. He looked up sharply, and the moment he recognized her, panic flashed across his young face.
He sprang to his feet and spread his arms wide to block the courtyard gate, like a small animal fiercely defending its territory. "Mother! Father and Lady Chrysanthe are making me a little brother or sister! Don't... Don't go in and interrupt them!"
'Making him a little brother or sister?' Giselle gazed at her son's innocent face, at the fierce determination with which he guarded the gate.
From within the courtyard came the heavy, labored breaths of a man whose voice and every intimate sound she had once known as well as her own heartbeat.
'Lythas…' At that moment, the last lingering trace of warmth in her heart finally faded.
The corners of her lips curved into the faintest smile.
"All right, then." Her voice was light, scarcely louder than a sigh. "I wish you well. May you get exactly what you want."
She did not wait to see the shock spread across her son's face. Without another moment's hesitation, she turned and walked away.
Leoric stood frozen in place and watched his mother's figure disappear into the night. He parted his lips, desperate to call after her, but no sound came.
LOGIN
