Chapter 603 – Duke Arrives.

“Everyone thinks I am a fool. Julius and that bastard, every single one of them refuses to take me seriously.”

Ivan stormed across the room like a caged animal, his steps uneven, his hands still stained with wine. His face was twisted, his jaw clenched so tightly that the veins in his neck bulged. He paced back and forth, muttering curses under his breath. The memory of the other nobles’ laughter was still vivid, and it drove him closer to madness.

“Ivan, my dear son, please calm down. Everything will be fine.”

Lady Scarlet’s voice filled the chamber, which had once looked luxurious but now resembled the aftermath of a brawl. A chair lay overturned, plates lay smashed in the corners, and tables had been reduced to splinters. Fist-shaped holes scarred the walls. Her son no longer looked like a noble but like an angry child who had been denied his favorite toy. Scarlet could only frown and shake her head, though she showed no anger at his outburst.

“Let us calm down for a moment. Not everything is lost yet.”

She tried to reason with him, but his anger still boiled over.

“You saw them!”

Ivan roared like a beast and spun toward her.

“They laughed at me. At me! As though I were some clown to be mocked while that rusted thing humiliated my knight in front of the entire duchy!”

He snatched a teacup from one of the few tables still standing and hurled it against the wall. It shattered instantly, and he continued to shout.

“I am the duke’s son, and they dare laugh at me. I will have all of their heads!”

His mother sighed in disappointment. Yet he was still her son, and she would not give up on his right to the duke’s position. She stepped closer, cupped his face in her hands, and forced him to meet her gaze. Her eyebrows drew together as she finally revealed that she would not tolerate more of his childish behavior.

“Ivan Valerian, you stop with this whining now! I did not bring you into this world to watch you throw tantrums like a child!”

Lady Scarlet’s voice cracked like a whip across the wrecked chamber. Ivan froze for a moment, but the anger in his face did not vanish. He was ready to throw another object at the wall when a hand smacked his cheek.

“M-mother?”

“I told you to stop!”

She would not accept a refusal. After releasing her grip on his other cheek, she struck him with her opposite hand. For someone like Ivan, a tier three class holder, the pain was little more than a sting. Yet the wild look in his mother’s eyes brought back memories from the past, and he instantly quieted down. When silence finally returned, Scarlet’s frown softened, and she let go of his face.

“Good, that’s better.”

Lady Scarlet’s voice softened, though the force behind it remained. She smoothed the sleeve of her gown and let a smile return to her face.

“You think tonight is ruined because of one duel? Fools laugh, Ivan. Let them laugh, let them choke on it. In the end, we will have the last laugh. For now, wipe that look from your face and get ready to return. We can’t have a duke candidate not take part in the assembly.”

It was not a request. It was an order, and Ivan, a man who never accepted orders from anyone, lowered his eyes.

“Yes, Mother.”

“That is my son.”

She adjusted his clothes and brushed her knuckles across his cheek.

“The event is not finished. When your father arrives, his will shall be the only voice that matters in this hall. Do you understand?”

Ivan’s jaw tightened. His lips trembled. The humiliation still burned in his chest, but his mother’s words gave him something to hold on to.

“I will crush them…”

He muttered, a trace of rage still in his eyes.

“No.”

Lady Scarlet shook her head.

“Not yet. Until you wear the ducal mantle you will not touch them. Not a single one. Do you hear me?”

He swallowed and forced the answer out. Without the title of duke, he had no power over the nobles gathered there. They lived under his house’s banner, but authority would not be his until the mantle was placed on his shoulders. He understood this.

“What about that bastard?”

“Not even him, not until we see what your father intends to do with him.”

“Yes, Mother.”

Behind them, his wife stood in silence, her presence as delicate as ever. She did not speak, and she did not interrupt. When Scarlet’s fiery eyes swept over her, she bowed her head, then shifted slightly toward the door. Neither Ivan nor his mother noticed or cared as she slipped away.

The moment she stepped into the hall, her demeanor changed. What seemed to be a gaze filled with compassion and warmth was replaced with vitriol. The mask of a dutiful wife slipped away quite easily. Her steps were careful and did not generate any sound at all. At the end of the corridor, a servant boy lingered in shadow, waiting as though he had anticipated her. She produced a folded letter from her sleeve and passed it into his hands. Her voice, no louder than a whisper, carried the weight of command.

“Deliver this. No one must see you.”

The servant’s eyes didn’t change; he just bowed once, clutching the letter to his chest. Without a word, he disappeared into the shadows of the manor, vanishing as though he had never been there. The duchess’s daughter-in-law exhaled softly, gathering herself before she returned, her expression shifting once more into that of a meek, loyal wife.

******

Meanwhile, back in the arena, the nobles had gathered in clusters, whispering amongst themselves like a flock of birds. Some praised Roland’s astounding display, others whispered suspiciously about his mysterious power, and more than a few began to reconsider their alliances.

Arthur rose to his feet and set his glass onto a tray that a servant carried away. By now, Roland was making his way back toward him, while Hadrian had already been removed from the arena. The rusty armor was gone, replaced by his earlier attire, which made him stand out less, though many eyes still followed him. The nobles gazed at him as if he were a prized horse, one they longed to claim for their own service.

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“Sir Wayland, what a magnificent duel!”

“Quite the good show you put on, good Sir Knight. Would you be interested in having a chat?”

Some nobles called out to him as he passed, but he gave no reply. The mask concealed his face, and he moved steadily through the crowd. Their expressions soured at the cold shoulder, yet he understood their frustration was not truly directed at him. By ignoring their greetings, he made it clear that their behavior was an affront to Arthur. Their true aim was to lure him to their side, and such attempts were rarely carried out so openly.