𝓐𝓶𝓫𝓲𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓓𝓮𝓼𝓽𝓲𝓷𝔂

👑Chapter Thirty-four👑

As Marchioness Sophia made her way out of the study, 'Annie had it all the time', was the hunting word that rang in her ears along the endless corridor like hallucinations. Then she recalled the last part of the conversation before her departure.

"What is your plan, Alexander?" she asked, still reeling from the shocking news. "I mean, the truth always comes out. What will you do if she knows her true identity?"

"For that reason, I should keep Annie close by and ensure she has everything she needs for the position. When the appropriate time arrives, she will be fully informed and prepared." The king answered, resting his chin on his folded hand, as the plan had already been meticulously formulated.

Marchioness Sophia had intended to ask more questions about public sentiment and how he would plan for Annie's debut event. However, she decided to hold her tongue and put her faith in her brother, the king, since he had led the kingdom out of a difficult and tumultuous period.

She, instead, gracefully lifted the folds of her dress and bent in an elegant curtsy, demonstrating her loyalty.

"Clifford had always been the shield of the royal family," he indicated calmly yet firmly. As the Marchioness raised her head, her eyes met her brother's intense gaze. "From now on, your family will protect Annie as fiercely as it did any member of the royal family before, "his eyes tightened. "Your son, Maximillian, if he interferes or gets in my way, I can't guarantee it will end with just home arrest."

"Understood, Your Majesty," the Marchioness replied with a slight smile, clutching her emerald green dress.

In the absence of a Queen, the King's sister, Marchioness Sophia, was responsible for arranging and hosting banquets and balls within the palace.

She stopped in the middle of her way, deep in thought. "I need to oversee the preparations for the Krotobia Establishment Ball," she murmured to herself as she adjusted the pearl necklace that complemented the square neckline of her dress. Then she left.

                      ********************************************************************

Priest Christopher, wearing a black cloak to hide his white temple robe, waited at the entrance of the abandoned auction house, scanning the surroundings, and awaiting the arrival of Duke Philip's wagon.

Duke Philip's black wagon finally arrived. Upon whipping the sweat off his forehead, Priest Christopher approached, gritting his teeth under the smile he wore.

The door creaked open slightly. The curtains were drawn, casting a dim light inside. Though he couldn't clearly see the Duke's face, he heard the command, 'Get in.'

They sat opposite each other in the small wagon, avoiding attention, their legs nearly touching. This closeness caused the priest to feel cold sweat trickling down his back.

"Have you cleaned up the mess you made, Priest?" the Duke asked, breaking the silence with his flat voice.

The priest adjusted himself nervously and swallowed hard as he spoke. "Yes, yes, Your Excellency," he replied, slightly trembling.

The Duke narrowed his amber eyes, interrupting the lie that was about to come out of the priest's mouth, "Speak the truth. I have no time for listening to excuses or lies."

Priest Christopher's expression faltered, and he stammered, "GG God, God forbid! Your Grace!!"

In an instant, the Duke raised his black, lather-gloved hand and brought it to the priest's face, squeezing his fat cheeks until his fingers felt the edges of the jawbones.

Duke Philip tightened his grip, pulling the priest closer. The priest's eyes filled with terror as tears streamed down his face. He barely managed to speak correctly; his voice was muffled as he desperately begged. "Your Grace, please forgive me..."

"'Ugh, my glove is all drooled on," he remarked, taking off the glove and tossing it into the priest's face."

Duke Philip leaned his back, resting; casually, and placed one ankle on his opposite knee, taking a relaxed posture. While the other was pathetically gasping for breath.

"Curse it! The knight I had entrusted with the mission has simply vanished, roaming off with the secret as if the earth had swallowed him up."

"I don't often offer second chances, but I'd prefer not to get my attire stained with blood, as I'm headed to an important gathering," the Duke said as he focused on adjusting his cuff buttons. As his eyes shifted towards the priest, he startled, lowering his head. "I won't forget your kindness, Your Grace!"

"Kindness!" he repeated with a smirk that reeked of contempt. "You must know Lancaster's crest, hmm?"

With a confused expression and trembling voice, he answered, "Wolves and..."

The Duke interrupted, "Great! And what do you know about them?" he said, tattling his head.

"They are loyal?" He responded lowly, uncertain if it was the answer he wanted to hear.