Chapter 15
A Man Who Fears Nothing
Eleanor’s steps felt incredibly light as she left the ballroom.
She had to suppress the smile that was threatening to spread across her face.
Though the hallway of the marquis’ mansion she was walking down was not frequently used, it connected to many passages, meaning someone could appear at any moment. So, she needed to be cautious for now.
Just as she thought that someone suddenly popped out from the hallway ahead.
Startled, Eleanor froze, wondering if it might be Arlo. But thankfully, it was someone else.
First, she noticed the man’s short stature, round body, and scruffy beard. His face was so red from drinking that it was hard to recognize him at first, but after a moment, she realized who it was.
It was Baron Fletcher, the lord of the border region near Royster’s domain.
“Hic… ugh…”
True to the rumors of his love for drinking and women, he was clearly very drunk. His unsteady walk and the strong stench of alcohol proved it. He even held an empty glass in his hand.
‘I need to avoid him.’
Getting involved with a drunk, especially one with a bad reputation, was the worst thing.
Eleanor tried to make her steps as quiet as possible to avoid being noticed. Unfortunately, it was as if he had eyes in the back of his head because, just then, Baron Fletcher suddenly spun around and spotted her.
“Hmm? Lady Astria?”
He recognized her instantly.
‘Maybe this is better. If he knows who I am, he won’t act recklessly,’ she thought.
But that was far too optimistic.
“Well, well, I’ve finally gotten the chance to see the beautiful Lady Eleanor up close! Come closer, won’t you?”
It was a mistake to assume that all people could think rationally.
A drunk person like him didn’t have the ability to discern who they should or shouldn’t bother.
To make matters worse, his gaze lingered with an unseemly intensity, his eyes narrowing into a sly, suggestive squint.
“Baron Fletcher, please step aside. My fiancé is known to be quite jealous, and now is not the time for a conversation.”
“Jealous? Ha! I saw him turn you down for a dance earlier. Looks like the Crown Prince isn’t treating his beautiful fiancée too well, huh?”
She had tried to use Arlo’s temper to her advantage, but unfortunately, the baron had witnessed Arlo refusing to dance with her. He hadn’t stuck around long enough to see what happened afterward and had probably been drinking heavily since then.
“You must be feeling lonely! No one there to comfort you… So how about it, Lady?”
His hazy eyes swept over her chest, filled with lust and drunkenness.
“Should I… comfort you?”
Eleanor’s face stiffened as she saw his hairy hand reaching toward her.
But it wasn’t just her face that froze. Her whole body became paralyzed with fear.
He was about her father’s age, with a large frame that could easily overpower her, speaking in an authoritative tone, his eyes undressing her.
Whenever she encountered a man like this, she would freeze, as if she had been trained to react that way.
‘No…’
She couldn’t let this happen. If she couldn’t overcome this, she wouldn’t be able to even begin her plan for revenge.
Eleanor clenched her trembling hands into fists.
The baron was off-guard right now. The glass in his hand could be dangerous, but if she timed it right, she could strike him in a vital spot.
Just a little closer, and she’d drive her elbow into his chin.
Her nails dug into her palms, and she felt strength slowly returning to her frozen body.
Just as she was about to crouch and strike him…
“Huh?!”
Baron Fletcher suddenly gasped and stumbled back, as if he’d seen something terrifying. His eyes widened in shock as he stared at something behind her.
Thud, thud, thud!
Heavy footsteps grew louder, and Eleanor, still tense with fear, only realized it a moment later. She turned her head slightly, but there was no need.
Crash!
The sound of glass shattering filled the air, and Baron Fletcher’s large body flew through the air.
A red cape glowing like a burning flame filled her vision in an instant.
“Gahh!”
Baron Fletcher let out a pained grunt as he collapsed to the floor, gasping for breath. His head seemed to be bleeding.
The man who had thrown the baron by his neck didn’t stop there. He strode toward the fallen baron with murderous intent.
Eleanor stared at the man’s broad back in confusion.
The red cape, the large, imposing figure… It was the same man she had just danced with.
Thud!
The man grabbed the baron by the collar again and punched him in the chest without hesitation. Though it was a punch, the sound it made was so heavy that it was as if he’d struck with a blunt weapon. Eleanor thought she heard something crack.
Baron Fletcher’s eyes rolled back, and his bulky body slumped to the floor.
Even though the baron had passed out, the man’s fierce demeanor didn’t let up. His fingers slowly curled into a fist, cracking loudly, as if preparing to strike again.
For some reason, Eleanor felt that if she didn’t stop him, the man might actually kill Baron Fletcher.
“Stop! You’ll make things worse!” She cried out urgently.
Baron Fletcher’s status wasn’t low. The only reason he could behave so freely at Lady Rive’s party was because he had powerful connections.
Beating him up like this wouldn’t be something that could be easily swept under the rug.
And if people found out that the man who had knocked out the baron was the same one who had danced with the Crown Prince’s fiancée, things would get even more complicated. At the very least, his life would become miserable from then on.
He clearly didn’t understand the implications. The man in the bird mask must have been an out-of-town noble unfamiliar with Cardiff society.
Or, and this was hard to believe… maybe he was someone who feared neither the Crown Prince nor the baron.
‘For example…’
Someone came to mind again, but Eleanor quickly dismissed the idea as impossible.
“I’m fine.”
But the slow, deep voice that followed erased her doubts.
“People will simply hear that Baron Fletcher was too drunk and stumbled.”
The voice was low and cold. It sounded rougher than when she had heard it before, perhaps because he was still catching his breath, but there was no mistaking it.
It was Karsian Royster, the Duke.
The man who had danced with her, the man who had protected her from Baron Fletcher—both were Karsian Royster.
Eleanor’s lips parted in disbelief. It took several deep breaths before she could finally speak.
“Your Grace…?”
“At a masquerade, it’s considered rude to ask someone’s identity, isn’t it?”
Eleanor wasn’t sure if he was joking or giving her advice, but his words only added to her confusion. Before she could respond, Karsian spoke again.
“You should leave now. It was loud, so people will be here soon.”
Just as he said, she could hear voices coming from nearby. They weren’t far away.
If people saw a scene like this, it would cause all sorts of problems. Nora and Arlo could twist the story, accusing her of improper behavior.
But Eleanor didn’t feel right just leaving Karsian to deal with it on his own.
“What about you? What will you do?”
“One witness who finds the baron fallen from the terrace should be enough.”
Karsian motioned toward a nearby terrace with his chin. Then he grabbed the unconscious baron by the scruff of his neck and hoisted him up.
He was suggesting he’d drop the baron over the terrace railing. It was only the first floor, so the baron wouldn’t be seriously hurt, but the idea was shocking.
But there wasn’t time to be surprised. The sound of footsteps was getting closer and closer. If she hesitated any longer, they’d be caught.
Without wasting another second, Eleanor turned around and ran, lifting her cumbersome skirt to avoid tripping.
She thought she heard a few more heavy thuds behind her, but she didn’t stop to look back.
Thanks to that, she managed to leave Marquis Rive’s estate without anyone noticing.
It wasn’t until she had returned safely to the Astria estate that she realized she had forgotten to thank him.
***
The capital of Juvenile and the Cardiff social scene was buzzing with gossip about the crown prince’s rumored affair and the troubles between him and his fiancée. Newspapers rushed to print sensational headlines, and the nobles who had attended the ball boasted about what they had seen.
The public reaction was mostly the same.
“I heard the crown prince is madly in love with his mistress! She must be stunning for him to fall for her!”
“What good is beauty? She’s so manipulative. Poor Lady Astria. She waited eight years, and now she’s being treated worse than a mistress.”
“Well, having a mistress isn’t that unusual… But I’ve heard her name is ‘Nora.’ Does anyone know who she is?”
“I’ve never heard of her before. But whoever she is, the Duke of Astria must be furious.”
Though people felt sorry for Eleanor, they didn’t miss the chance to criticize the Astria family. Arlo seemed to have managed the public’s perception of him, but everyone clicked their tongues at the mention of Nora, accusing her of seducing the future emperor.
It was exactly what Eleanor had expected.
Ignoring the sympathetic looks of her servants, she spent the next few days reading through various newspapers and gossip columns.
‘Just as the Duke said.’
There was almost no mention of Baron Fletcher. At most, there was a brief line saying that the baron, drunk, had tripped and fallen off the terrace.
‘His injuries were far worse than a simple fall…’
But considering Baron Fletcher’s ties with the Royster family, who helped deal with the dangerous beasts crossing the border, it wasn’t hard to understand why the incident had been downplayed.
However, there was one thing Eleanor couldn’t figure out.
‘Why?’
Why had the Duke of Royster asked her to dance and then gone out of his way to save her from such danger?
‘What does he want?’
No matter how much she thought about it, she couldn’t find an answer to that question.
“Do you need help?”
Now that she thought about it, he had offered his help at Count Lambert’s garden party too.
Maybe he was simply a kind person who couldn’t ignore someone in trouble. Or perhaps he had secretly harbored feelings for her.
But Eleanor wasn’t the type of person to naively accept such explanations.
Kindness and love—these were things only those who had received them consistently would naturally believe in. Since she had never experienced such things, she remained suspicious of Karsian’s motives.
“Young Lady, the Duke has returned this morning,” a servant’s voice interrupted her thoughts.
It seemed her father had rushed back after hearing the shocking news.
“Has he called for me?”
“Yes. He wishes to have breakfast with you, as it’s Friday.”
Friday. Her least favorite day of the week.
The Astria family had a tradition of having breakfast together every Friday. It was something that had been passed down for generations.
“Dare to pull a stunt like that in my house!”
Suddenly, her father’s angry voice echoed in her mind.
That day, when she was caught praying before the spires, had been a Friday morning as well. It was no surprise that Eleanor hated Fridays.
“Alright, I’ll be there.”
But today, she was eager to go to the dining room. She couldn’t wait to see her father’s reaction.
Her steps quickened with anticipation, and she soon arrived at the dining room.
The Duke of Astria wasn’t there yet. Neither was her brother, Damian.
That was a relief. Her father would have exploded with anger if she had arrived after him, even if she was on time.
Just as Eleanor sat down, the Duke walked in. His timing was perfect.
“Father, you’ve returned,” she greeted.
“…Sit down.”
Eleanor stood up and bowed, then waited for her father to sit before taking her seat again.
Soon, the maids began bringing out the elaborate dishes.
“Speak, Eleanor,” her father said abruptly, even before all the food had been served.
“Explain why such rumors are spreading. Tell me everything.”
