Why The Hell is Fate Trying to Kill Me?

Chapter 61 Opening Feast II

A violent snap echoed through the hall.

The heavy velvet entrance flaps of the pavilion were thrown wide with such force. A gust of night wind rushed in, making the chandeliers sway.

The Herald at the entrance struck his staff, his voice cracking with nerves.

"Presenting the House of Valerius! Her Grace, Duchess Valerie Valerius!"

A single woman marched through the opening.

She came alone. No guards. No servants. No family.

She wore severe black velvet with a dull gold chain heavy across her chest. Her face was pale marble with her eyes grey steel. She walked with a confident, predatory rhythm. The lack of an entourage and being alone made her look even more terrifying, as her presence alone was heavy enough to tilt the balance of the room.

The entire hall fell silent.

She didn't slow down. She walked down the central carpet, her gaze fixed straight ahead.

She reached the Dais.

Directly in her path was the "scene", the spilt wine, the trembling maid, and Lady Anna, who was still kneeling on the floor, looking up in confusion at Duchess Valerie.

Any other noble would have stopped. They would have waited for the scene to resolve. They would have bowed to the Queen.

She didn't break stride.

She didn't look at the Queen. She didn't look at the Prince. She looked at Lady Anna and the maid merely as obstacles in the terrain.

She kept walking.

"Move," Duchess Valerie said. It wasn't a shout. It was a low command.

I saw Lady Anna gasp as her eyes widened in terror; she realised the Duchess wasn't going to stop. She scrambled backwards on her hands and knees, dragging her dress through the spilt wine to avoid being trampled. The maid threw herself flat onto the stairs.

Duchess Valerie stepped over the puddle of wine and the edge of Lady Anna's dress without even glancing down.

She marched right past the Royal Family as if they were furniture.

The Queen stood up, her mouth opening to deliver a reprimand to her, yet the words died in her throat.

Duchess Valerie stopped.

She didn't bow. She didn't apologise. She slowly turned her head, fixing her cold, grey eyes on the Queen. Even though her stare was on the Queen, I could feel her gaze piercing through me. Cold as ice and sharp as a wolf. Just like Lady Octavi said, she was an Apex.

The silence stretched and was heavy in the room. The Queen looked into those ice eyes and remembered the truth that every noble in the kingdom knew: Duchess Valerie Valerius could not be controlled.

The Queen raised her face, exhaling a sharp breath. She waved her hand dismissively. "Be seated, then," the Queen snapped, sitting back down. "We have wasted enough time."

Duchess Valerie didn't react to the permission. She simply turned her head back to the front and continued her march to the empty black table.

She pulled out her own chair and sat down in the vast emptiness of her table.

Only then did Duchess Valerie turn her head. "Wine," she said. Her voice carried to every corner of the silent room. "And the food. I am hungry."

The servant scrambled to obey, her hands shaking as she poured the wine into her glass. Duchess Valerie took the glass. She took a long, slow sip as her grey eyes scanned the room over the rim of the glass.