Chapter 29: Catrina - Patriarch of the Montaline Family
The elders in the hall paled at his words, drawing in a shaky breath as anger flared in their eyes toward Lathel.
It was the first time any of them had heard someone dare speak like that in front of Rowan—and that someone was nothing but an immature brat, not even a mage, merely a useless child.
Still, although they were inwardly displeased, seeing Lucia and Valoria standing beside Lathel forced them to hold their tongues.
Lathel might be useless, but the wall he leaned against was enormous and impenetrable—no one dared confront it.
Rowan could only sigh, voice softer now. "Don’t refuse so hastily. You can refuse after you hear it."
Lathel inclined his head, signaling for Rowan to speak.
Rowan, though irritated by Lathel’s arrogance, dared not oppose him. He considered for a moment and then spoke: "Three simple conditions. First: I hope you truly love Catrina, not merely desire her beauty."
Lathel nodded without hesitation.
Rowan continued, "Second: as for profit distribution—our family takes only twenty percent. The rest belongs to you."
Lathel and the others showed a flicker of surprise.
At once the Second Elder hurried to interject: "Grand Elder, but—"
"Hm?!" Rowan raised an eyebrow and a pressure like a blade settled over the assembled, silencing them immediately.
Even Lucia and Valoria frowned at Rowan’s demand. Twenty percent was a small cut—indeed, Valoria and Lucia had thought fifty percent would be acceptable.
Lathel stroked his chin as if reading the hidden intent behind the condition, then laughed and nodded. "You’re clever. Fine—I accept."
Rowan looked slightly surprised by Lathel’s quick agreement, then recovered his composure and added: "The final condition: if our family faces catastrophe or extermination, I hope you will step in to help."
"I do not expect you to save our house completely—only that you prevent our bloodline from being severed."
Lathel glanced at Catrina when he heard that.
Catrina’s face flushed—she understood exactly what he meant. In plain terms: they wanted heirs, to continue the Montaline bloodline.
Lathel nodded. "Very well. I accept these three conditions. But... I have conditions too, though this place—"
He glanced around, irritation on his face.
Rowan understood and stood. "Follow me."
Lathel followed Rowan. Lucia and Valoria moved to go with them but he stopped them: "Mother, Lucia—you wait outside."
"No." Lucia and Valoria answered almost in unison.
They exchanged a look, then turned back to Lathel.
Valoria warned, "Lathel, this is dangerous."
"Indeed," Lucia agreed. "Rowan is a crafty old fox. Going with him will be perilous."
Rowan: "..."
Rowan walked ahead and heard their words, inwardly seething. ’Oy! I am the Grand Elder of the Montaline family—could you show a little respect?’
Lathel smiled. "Don’t worry. He won’t do anything truly dangerous to me because—"
He shot Rowan a pointed glance, smiling. "Because I’m alive, I can bring him much benefit."
Rowan’s face broke into a smile. It wasn’t contempt or sneer—rather, a look of genuine appreciation.
Lucia and Valoria exchanged glances, then nodded, allowing Rowan and Lathel to enter a private chamber.
Of course, nobody outside could hear what was said inside.
Lucia, Valoria, and Catrina sat like they were on hot coals, anxiously staring at the door.
Then Valoria suddenly said, "Catrina, congratulations."
Catrina looked up at Valoria and smiled. "Mm! But... what about you?"
"Me? It’s nothing—I only care that you and he are happy." Valoria feigned indifference with a cool smile.
Lucia watched their expressions and, as if a realization dawned, her eyes widened in disbelief as she stared at Valoria.
After all, she was a woman—her instincts about feelings were razor-sharp.
Valoria glanced at Lucia and grinned. "Well? Disgusted by me?"
Lucia stared a long moment, then shook her head. "No. I’m just surprised you like him too. But if I’m not mistaken, he isn’t your biological son, right?"
Valoria didn’t deny it—she nodded slightly and said, "The intuition of the Beastkin Holy Maiden really is terrifying."
Lucia shook her head. "Not exactly. You know what Spring Garden is like, don’t you? That’s why I understand love very clearly."
"If you and he were related by blood, your eyes would be the eyes of a mother. They would look very different from how they look now."
"But for you to like him, the biggest barrier—blood relation—must not exist. So are you really going to stand by and let the women around him pull him away from you?"
Valoria sighed. "I’m afraid... he will—"
"Hahaha..." Lucia covered her mouth and laughed. "The Empire’s greatest Sword Maiden getting timid—how cute. Well then, fine. At least one rival is out of the way."
"You mean..." Valoria frowned, looking at Lucia. "You actually like my son?"
"Yes." Lucia didn’t hide it. She smiled, bright and unabashed. "I like him. I like him so much I want to see him every day, to hold him, to feel his warmth."
Valoria’s brow knit—Lucia’s words were almost unbelievable.
Catrina, meanwhile, clutched Valoria’s sleeve and nodded shyly.
Valoria trusted Catrina, but even she found it hard to accept that a being like Lucia could love Lathel. If someone told her a pig could climb a tree, she might almost believe it.
"You are the Beastkin Holy Maiden," Valoria said, frowning. "If the Beastkin learn you love a human—especially an ordinary one—do you know what the consequences would be?"
Although Valoria was human, she was a Duchess who’d fought the Beastkin countless times. She knew their customs and culture well.
Lucia laughed softly, but Valoria read a sting of mockery beneath it.
"Hahahaha... Valoria, I’m not like you. I will bravely pursue my love." Lucia’s smile turned daring. "Besides, I am one of the Beastkin’s strongest. If anyone dares object to me being with Lathel, I’ll simply kill them."
She spoke such horrifying things with a beautiful face and radiant smile that it sent chills down anyone’s spine.
Valoria narrowed her eyes, trying to peer into Lucia’s mind, but all she saw was madness born of love.
"You truly love him that much?" Valoria asked, doubtful.
"Yes," Lucia said smoothly. "And if you don’t believe me, I can marry him right now, bear him a few children, and have them call you *Grandmother*."
She lingered on the word *Grandmother*, twisting it like a blade, tone dripping with mockery.
As Lucia intended, Valoria’s heart pounded furiously, face flushed red, hand tightening around the hilt of her sword.
Though Valoria had long told herself she’d be satisfied simply watching Lathel’s happiness from the shadows, Lucia’s taunt made something burn inside her—jealousy, anger... and something darker.
For a fleeting moment, a terrifying thought crossed her mind: ’If I take him for myself—if I become Lathel’s woman, bear his child—then in the end, I’ll be the one who truly wins.’
The instant that thought appeared, Valoria froze. She shook her head violently, forcing it away, eyes regaining calm.
She turned her face aside, ignoring Lucia.
But Lucia’s lips curved into a strange, knowing smile—as though she’d achieved exactly what she wanted.
KRIT!!
The door opened.
Lucia, Valoria, and Catrina all rose at once, hurrying toward Lathel, praying nothing had gone wrong.
But to their surprise, Lathel and Rowan were laughing together as if they were old friends.
"Hahaha! Duke Lathel," Rowan said cheerfully, "I didn’t expect someone so young to understand life so deeply. I truly admire you."
Lathel replied politely with a smile. "Grand Elder, you flatter me. I’m just young enough to adapt quickly to the changes of the world."
"Indeed! You’re absolutely right." Rowan laughed heartily. "I hope our cooperation will be long and pleasant."
"Of course—but don’t forget what we agreed on." Lathel nodded.
"I won’t," Rowan said with an affable smile. "Duke Lathel, with you as Catrina’s husband, I can finally be at ease."
Then he raised a hand and gestured for Catrina to approach.
Catrina blinked in confusion but stepped forward.
Rowan took her hand—and placed it into Lathel’s. "From this moment on, you are husband and wife. I sincerely wish you happiness. And also..."
He produced a bracelet—etched with countless tiny sigils that shimmered with soft blue light, writhing like living serpents—and placed it in Catrina’s hand.
"Catrina," Rowan said solemnly, "this bracelet symbolizes the position of Head of the Montaline Family. I have held onto it all this time, unwilling to entrust it to anyone. But now—I give it to you."
"Catrina! From this moment forward, you are the Patriarch of the Montaline Family!"
"Huh?!"