Those damned bastards! Ray silently cursed while maintaining the respectful stillness expected in court.
He waited and then waited some more. However, the cold words, the rebuke he had expected never came.
Only a low laugh, soft enough to melt in the chilly air, yet scary enough to send a shudder through every person in the courtroom.
When Ray raised his head, the gleam in those venomous green eyes made his throat go parch.
"They want me to have a main wife?" Darius said softly as if amused by the words. "Very well. This sovereign shall grant them their wish."
Long fingers tapped on the white armrest, "As for Princess Bianca..."
He had to think for a second. A vague image surfaced in his memory. Wasn’t she the child of Duke Nocturne? The youngest and only sister of that dead vermin Klein Nocturne?
Just thinking of Xion’s nearly lifeless body made his fingers curl tight around the armrest. If it wasn’t for the sturdiness of it, the throne might’ve cracked under such immense pressure.
His lips curled up in a fleeting, barely there, smirk. "Tell them I have no interest in taking in blood-sucking worms."
Words fell, and Ray’s shoulders relaxed. As long as His Grace was willing to retort, it meant his mood could still be salvaged, and the head of the Georgie wouldn’t be sent back to the royal capital.
All but one were relaxed.
Georgie Maximus, the right-hand man of the crown prince, and the well-respected minister of the royal court was currently seething.
Why? Because he had been forced to come to these cold, cursed lands to meet with savages. It was humiliating to say the least.
He truly couldn’t fathom exactly what his master wished to acquire by giving a beauty like Princess Bianca to this lunatic.
Who didn’t know how powerful Duke Nocturne was?
If the Crown Prince married the girl himself, he’d gain her dowry and her dead brother’s seat of power.
Considering the old friendship between the Archduke and the Dukedom, it would do them no good if they were still allies.
This devil of the North had actually killed Klein Nocturne in a fit of rage, and in his eyes, this was the perfect moment to drive a wedge between the North and the Dukedom.
But no! His Highness had to go to such lengths for this royal decree.
And the result? This monster hadn’t even deigned to glance at it properly.
Gritting his teeth, Georgie suppressed his rage before donning a smile. Not a humble and submissive, but a haughty one, clearly showing his upper hand in the situation.
He stepped forward with exaggerated grace, his gloved hands folded behind his back.
"Your Grace," he began with a bow that was just shy of respectful, "I have always admired the North’s... fortitude."
With a tone oily-smooth, he continued, "A land of blizzards and blood. So resilient. So proud. And yet... pride, I’ve found, is a luxury best enjoyed on a full stomach."
There was a gloating smile at the corner of his lips, "I’m sure you’re aware of the... scarcity in these barren lands. And I have no doubt that you, as a leader, would never allow your people to suffer, yes?"
He gestured to the scroll on the pedestal, mock concern in his eyes. "His Majesty had given you a way out of the misery, you see. As for Princess Bianca... Though it is difficult," he sighed as if lamenting at the bad fate of the northern people.
"I will still assume you will welcome Her Highness with the respect she deserves. That your halls are warm enough to house a true
Then, with one hand pressed lightly over his chest, he said, "And surely, Your Grace would not allow your people to suffer the indignity of famine for the sake of stubborn pride. No, your legacy deserves more than that, right?"
Every word was spoken with clear indication. If one stripped away the flowery phrasing, there were only a few things the royal minister had spoken of.
First, he was calling Darius a barbarian who should know his place.
Second, he implied the Archduke wasn’t worthy of a princess—but the court was generous enough to offer one anyway.
The third was even more absurd. They were literally threatening to cut off the food supply entirely.
It didn’t matter how much money they had. Without the empire’s greenlight, even the black market would tighten its grip.
And winter was already at their gates.
Despite the fact that they had been gathering food and meat, every time the heavy winters knocked on their doors, they had to bear the brunt of hungry and cold nights.
That was why the ministers were so afraid. If their lord made one move in rage, they all had to suffer.
Although they all wanted to smack these posh-looking people from the capital who looked down on them, the truth was they couldn’t.
At least not when they couldn’t survive without the food supplies.
The chill in the air grew. The intense pressure excluded by those green eyes made Georgie finally sense the danger.
He hastily took a step back, and then, as if sensing the ridicule from the people around him, his smile vanished. Straightening his back, he pointed his finger at the ruler.
"Your Grace! Please obey the royal orders and we shall be on our way."
Darius stood up. That was enough of a signal.
In the blink of an eye, the finger that was pointing at him was lying on the ground.
Georgie stared at his fingerless hand, his eyes wide. After a brief second, a shrill scream echoed in the otherwise silent room.
The warm blood gushed out free from any restraint. Georgie yelled, but no one came to support him.
Rather the people had the hint of schadenfreude in their eyes as they watched the Archduke stepping down the stairs and walking toward the royal minister.
You deserve it. Ray thought while silently standing with his sword stained with blood.