Chapter 336: The Verdict and the Queen’s Ire
Chapter 335: The Verdict and the Queen’s Ire
Lyria’s POV
Jacinta paused, adding a theatrical flourish as she lightly fanned herself with one hand.
"My, my," she said, her voice carrying a note of playful amusement. "There is certainly a great deal of tension in the air this evening."
I very nearly rolled my eyes.
If she intended to prolong the suspense any further, I feared I might lose what little patience I possessed.
I wished she would simply announce the name so we could all proceed with our evening and bring this spectacle to an end.
Jacinta laughed softly, evidently delighted by the effect she was having upon the assembled guests.
"The candidate who shall be eliminated from the Selection," she declared, her voice carrying clearly throughout the ballroom, "is Baron Frederick Ashcombe of Ironridge."
A ripple spread through the assembly.
Some among the spectators released audible sighs of relief, no doubt those who had placed their hopes upon other candidates.
Others exchanged disappointed glances or shook their heads, perhaps those who had sought to gain favour with the Baron and now found those efforts wasted.
My gaze settled upon Baron Ashcombe.
His expression was remarkably composed.
Yet, for the briefest instant, before he concealed it, I caught sight of another emotion.
Relief.
It was there only for a heartbeat.
Then it vanished beneath a carefully practised mask of dignity.
He glanced discreetly over his shoulder, as though assuring himself that no one was observing him too closely.
There was almost... gratitude in his expression.
Without protest, he stepped forward.
He bowed respectfully to the King.
Then to the Queen.
Finally, he inclined his head towards Jacinta and me before quietly withdrawing from the line of suitor candidates.
Not a single complaint escaped his lips.
I watched him leave, an odd feeling settling within my chest.
I had expected his elimination.
After everything he had discovered...
After the secrets he had stumbled upon...
And after the fear that had haunted him ever since...
Perhaps this was a mercy.
The Selection was no place for a man burdened by such dangerous knowledge.
Quietly, I resolved to ask Bridget and Debbie to look in on Baron Ashcombe before he departed the palace.
The mysterious figure who had spoken with him still remained unidentified.
And somehow...
I could not shake the feeling that there was far more to what he had witnessed than he had allowed anyone to know.
Something told me that his departure did not mark the end of this matter.
Rather...
It felt as though it were only the beginning.
Jacinta’s voice drew me back to the present.
"As is customary," she announced pleasantly, "the next competition shall now be revealed."
She offered a graceful curtsy to Their Majesties before stepping back, her part in the evening complete.
This time, it was the Queen who rose.
Her posture remained immaculate.
Her sharp gaze swept slowly across the remaining candidates, studying each gentleman with unmistakable scrutiny.
"The next competition," she announced, "shall test the strength of the remaining candidates."
She paused, allowing the anticipation within the ballroom to grow.
"For how," she continued, "is a gentleman to protect the Moon of the Empire if he lacks the ability to stand against danger?"
A murmur travelled through the crowd.
Many nodded in agreement.
Others whispered quietly amongst themselves.
"The next competition," the Queen continued, "shall consist of a sparring tournament between the remaining candidates."
She folded her hands neatly before her.
"The particulars shall be explained in full when the competition commences tomorrow."
I found myself studying the gentlemen gathered below the dais.
Baron Julian Redwick had stiffened considerably.
His jaw had tightened.
His hands, resting at his sides, had curled into restrained fists. He looked as though he had just received notice of his own execution.
Earl Hawthorne appeared equally troubled.
The concern already present upon his face had only deepened, his brow furrowing more noticeably than before.
Duke Thorncrest’s ever-present smile faltered ever so slightly.
Only for an instant.
A fleeting expression crossed his face before he smoothly composed himself once more.
Lucian released a slow, measured breath.
Then my eyes found Duke Valenridge.
Unlike the others...
He merely raised an eyebrow.
It was such a slight movement that most would never have noticed it.
But the Queen did.
Her gaze sharpened immediately.
"Your Grace," she said coolly, "have you something you wish to say?"
Duke Valenridge turned his attention towards her.
His expression shifted into one of mild curiosity.
"I have nothing to say, Your Majesty," he replied evenly.
The Queen smiled.
It was a smile devoid of warmth.
"You appear as though you do," she replied. "Perhaps this competition is not to Your Grace’s liking?"
A faint smile tugged at one corner of Duke Valenridge’s mouth.
"I had not realised Your Majesty possessed the gift of reading minds," he said with effortless calm. "Perhaps it is a talent acquired through giving birth to a Moon candidate."
The Queen’s eye twitched.
I bit the inside of my cheek.
With considerable effort, I stopped myself from laughing.
She had, in truth, invited the remark.
Duke Valenridge was not the sort of gentleman who would allow himself to be intimidated, regardless of rank.
The Queen’s voice cooled several degrees.
"And what precisely," she asked, "do you mean by that?"
Duke Valenridge gave the smallest shrug.
His expression remained perfectly innocent.
"I meant only what I said, Your Majesty.I informed you that I had nothing to say. You disagreed." He told her.
"I merely observed," he continued "that Your Majesty seemed convinced I was harbouring thoughts which I had not spoken."
He inclined his head ever so slightly.
"Surely a gentleman may be surprised. I confess I had not anticipated that the next competition would be one of sparring. Is surprise now considered an offence?"
The Queen’s eye twitched once more.
For a fleeting instant, I thought she might actually lose her composure.
She drew a breath and opened her mouth to reply—
But before a single word could leave her lips, the King spoke.
"The Duke is correct."
His voice carried through the ballroom with quiet authority.
"We ought not to make assumptions where none are warranted."
His gaze swept calmly across the gathered candidates.
"This trial of strength has not been decided lightly. It is a competition that has been discussed and considered at length."
He paused.
"As Her Majesty has already stated, the full particulars shall be provided before the competition begins."
A measured smile appeared upon his face.
"And unlike the previous contest..."
His gaze travelled across the assembled nobility.
"...this one shall be open to all the people of the Empire. It shall be held within the royal arena, that everyone who wishes may bear witness to the strength of the remaining candidates."
A murmur rippled through the crowd.