Chapter 1025: Fuck Around And Find Out
Chapter 1025: Fuck Around And Find Out
Author: I saw some confusion about Seraphiel getting slapped on the butt by the noble. That didn’t happen. She was attacked from behind and slapped across the face. I edited the last chapter to make it more obvious.
…
A yawn broke the silence.
The black cat resting atop the noble Black’s head suddenly blinked lazily before her purple eyes swept the hall. For a moment, she looked bored and even angered to be woken up.
But then, her fur bristled.
She stood up alarmedly.
Then, with the grace of something that knew it sat at the top of the food chain, the cat hopped off the human’s head, abandoning the throne of her own accord.
Because whatever comfort she once found there was gone.
Across the hall, the three offending nobles had gone pale. Color drained from their cheeks. Their bravado collapsed in on itself.
One of them took a hurried step back before bumping into a chair and stumbling while cursing.
The second’s hand trembled as he tried to sip his wine to calm himself, only to spill it down his front.
The third stared at Black with dilated pupils and mouth open like a man who’d just realized he might’ve insulted a dragon in its own lair.
They nearly pissed themselves.
But then they remembered where they were.
And more importantly, who was watching.
Hundreds of noble eyes had locked onto them, but it was three particular gazes that lit the fire beneath their pride far more than any other: the king’s, the queen’s, and most damningly of all… Princess Felicity’s.
They weren’t just any nobles. These three were the Vexmore brothers. Sons of Count Hadrien Vexmore, a powerful man whose lands bordered three duchies and whose military contributions were some of the most consistent in the realm. He played a big role in Ravenshade’s victory against the Alliance’s invasion.
Their house wasn’t quite on the level of the five dukes, best evidenced by their father referring to Tharion Ravenshade as ‘My Lord’, but they were close.
Close enough that with the right marriage… they might could become the strongest count family in the nation.
Princess Felicity was the perfect target.
She was the third daughter of a king whose reign was steadily nearing the very end of its twilight years. Her eldest sister was already wed, and no king would give away his first daughter to a count.
The second daughter became an Arch Priest, which made her unfit for marriage. Not because Arch Priests were forbidden from experiencing love and carnal pleasures of the flesh, but because not even the king could force her to marry. And even if she did become a wife of her own volition, she would not become a proper noble’s partner with all her duties to the Goddess.
But Felicity? Still unwed. Still at court. Still… a possibility.
A princess marrying a count was rare, yes. But not impossible. Not with an aging king, a restless court, and a younger daughter whose political value was being quietly reconsidered now that a new ruler would soon take over. A marriage to her wouldn’t make one of them a duke. But it would make their house immensely strong. The most influential count family in the kingdom. A heartbeat away from becoming the next great power bloc.
That’s what this banquet was for.
That’s what their family had prepared for.
And that’s why they had all come together. Three eligible noblemen, three equally polished smiles, each representing the same bloodline. As long as one of them earned her favor, the House of Vexmore would rise.
Of course, competition was fierce. Felicity was no easy target to woo. And recently… too recently… they’d heard troubling whispers coming from the servants in the palace.
Her attention was focused on a foreigner with whom she was allowed to chat.
A noble called Black.
They didn’t want to believe it, no one did. But now, with their entrance, the validity of those rumors couldn’t be denied.
And now, they saw the man in the flesh.
The Vexmore brothers and their parents had seen this man as a threat to their chances, and more than that, they’d seen him as the perfect target to humiliate in front of the court. To show Felicity that whatever affection or curiosity she held for this foreigner was misplaced.
That they were the better men.
Better choices.
That her future should lie with one of them.
After all, she was getting friendly with a man who dared to bring his slave harem to the royal court.
And yet now… the entire hall had gone still.
But they knew it very well; this was not the moment to appear weak.
So they straightened their backs.
Lifted their chins.
Drew themselves up like peacocks to appear unshaken to those watching and more appealing to the young female they tried to court.
“You dare?!” one spat with a voice that was high and strained, “You dare unleash hostility in the royal palace? At the king’s banquet?”
Another jabbed a finger at the noble. “The feast is under strict orders of peace! A command from His Majesty himself! You’d violate his word… for this?”
Their voices rose in pitch together.
“You show open aggression toward nobles of the crown…”
“… when the King himself decreed…”
They stopped.
All three turned toward the king.
Desperate for his support.
For his judgment.
For the hammer to fall on their side.
But the only thing they saw…
Was the King’s hand.
Held up.
A silent gesture to the guards around the room: Do not move.
Do. Not. Interfere.
The nobles froze.
Gulps rippled through them in stereo. Sweat gathered beneath their collars. One of them was visibly shaking.
Because the king wasn’t protecting them.
Despite his expressionless face, despite the regal mask of stillness he wore like a second skin…
They could all tell.
He wasn’t furious.
He wasn’t disappointed.
He wasn’t even siding with them.
He was curious.
The legendary King Alexios, known for his strict demand that everyone obey his orders, sat back in his gilded throne with his eyes fixed on the unfolding scene.
He wanted to see what would happen.
And he had no intention of stopping it.
That was when the voice came.
“I see.”
Quinlan rose.
No sound.
No fanfare.
Just the subtle scrape of his chair as he stood, and yet it hit harder than any furious shouting ever could.
His presence increased even further as he straightened, drowning the hall in his overwhelming aura.
Pressure crushed the air.
The lights flickered.
Nobles forgot how to breathe.
“No regrets.”
He raised his hand as fire began to dance freely along his palm.
“No apologies.”
His gaze locked on the one who dared pull on Kitsara’s tail.
“Well… Even if you apologized, it wouldn’t change a thing.”
An explosion of wind moved outward from his body, and Quinlan vanished.
The air split apart before him.
Tables shook as a mighty gust ripped through the center of the hall, sending silk napkins into the air.
The man barely had time to realize he was being attacked.
He managed to raise his hand thanks to his honed reflexes.
But it was too late.
A fiery explosion erupted from Quinlan’s fist as it crashed into the noble’s crossed arms. It was an explosive blast of fire element enhanced by compressed wind, detonating point-blank.