The Reason Why the Forsaken Fake Returned Chapter 44

“Congratulations, Duke Cornwall, and Lady Perus. From now on, as members of the royal family, uphold dignity and honor, and set an example for others.”

 

“I will keep that in mind, Mother.”

 

“I will keep that in mind, Your Majesty.”

 

The queen, seeing her son and future daughter-in-law bow their heads respectfully, slowly rose from her seat with the help of the lady-in-waiting beside her. At the same time, everyone in the hall stood up as well.

 

“Now then, I must go check on His Majesty’s condition, so I’ll take my leave first. Thank you to all our guests for coming. The reception will begin shortly, so please enjoy yourselves.” Having finished what she needed to say, the queen left the hall like an actress exiting the stage after her role was done.

 

Shailoh watched the entire scene unfold, barely daring to breathe. She was shorter and more delicate than expected, but even in that brief moment as she left the hall, the woman radiated an overwhelming sense of authority. Her voice was gentle and exquisitely feminine, yet cold and sharp as a blade honed on a whetstone. That was the queen of this kingdom, Caleb’s nemesis, the stepmother who had tried to kill him.

 

As Shailoh turned her head slightly to the side, she froze. She had expected Caleb to be filled with fear or hatred, but instead, he was smiling. For the first time, that smile sent chills down her spine.

 

* * *

As soon as the ceremony ended, the guests were guided by servants to the adjoining banquet hall. Escorted by Caleb, Shailoh moved along with the crowd of guests.

 

In the center of the dance floor stood a swan sculpture, carved from precious ice—a rare luxury at this time of year—serving as the room’s centerpiece. Off to one side, an orchestra dressed in formal tailcoats occupied their corner. On the long guest tables facing the center, an array of exquisite dishes was laid out: whole roasted and glazed spring lamb, beef prepared with rare wines, veal smoked for dozens of days and seasoned with a variety of spices—each dish lovingly crafted and irresistibly appetizing. Servants wove busily through the crowd, balancing silver trays of champagne as they moved between guests chatting cheerfully with one another.

 

Amidst the dazzlingly dressed, excited crowd, Shailoh was the only one who seemed tense. Everything she saw was beautiful, almost overwhelming to the eye, but she felt as if she’d been thrown into the middle of a battlefield—her breath caught, her chest tight. In contrast, Caleb stood beside her with a look of utter boredom, as if he was far too used to all this. He glanced over, checking her complexion.

 

“Are you alright? Are you feeling sick?”

 

“No, I’m fine.”

 

“Aren’t you hungry? You haven’t touched a thing.”

 

“Really, I’m fine.”

 

After politely declining again, Shailoh, her throat dry, raised her hand to call over a passing servant. The champagne soothed her as it slid down her throat, and she started to feel a bit more alive. She was just about to talk to Caleb about what she had just heard when a servant approached from a distance and whispered something in Caleb’s ear. Caleb’s expression changed; he wiped his mouth with a napkin, pushed back his chair, and stood up.

 

“What’s going on?”

 

“It’s nothing serious. I’ll be right back.” Caleb gave her shoulder a reassuring pat and walked away before she could stop him.

 

Left alone, Shailoh ended up chatting with some guests seated across from her when someone addressed her.

 

“I knew it was you, Miss Griche.”

 

Shailoh, not recognizing him at first, offered an awkward smile. The man who had approached quickly introduced himself.

 

“I’m Eric. We met the other day.”

 

“Ah, right.”

 

He was the close friend who had rushed over when Caleb was poisoned. Delighted, Shailoh stood up from her seat.

 

“It’s the first time I’ve seen you since then. How have you been?”

 

“I’ve been well, of course. And you, Miss Griche?”

 

“Yes, a lot has happened, but in the end, I’m doing alright.” It wasn’t the right place to go into detail, and she wasn’t sure how much Caleb had shared, so she kept her answer vague.

 

Just then, the grand hall, which had been lively with luxurious food and elegant music, suddenly fell silent. At some point, the third prince and his fiancée, now changed into formal attire, took their seats side by side at the head table. The guests, waiting for the main event, turned their attention to the couple as Third Prince Albert rose to address them.

 

“Thank you all for coming today to celebrate my engagement to Lady Perus. And also—” His gaze swept over the hundred or so guests before settling on Duke Perus, who was seated on the right side of the hall. “Thank you for introducing me to such a lovely niece, Duke Perus.”

 

“It’s nothing at all. I am overjoyed to form a bond with the royal family. It is the greatest honor, and I will serve the royal house with even greater devotion.”

 

“You are as gracious and humble as ever,” Albert responded with a smile, then glanced at his fiancée. She wore a doll-like smile, but her posture was stiff with nerves. He hoped she might say something, but she just sat there in silence. With no other choice, he was about to speak again when Duke Perus quietly made a request.

 

“If it’s not too much trouble, may I say a few more words?”

 

“Go ahead.”

 

With a hearty expression, Duke Perus raised his glass. “As you all know, I am one of the Three Dukes of the Oath. My ancestors played a pivotal role in founding this kingdom, and in exchange for their lands, they swore to remain neutral for all eternity.”

 

Everyone present was well aware of this. Curious what he might say next, the guests listened intently to Duke Perus. His voice rang out, bold and resonant, filling the vast hall.

 

“For that reason, I know there are some who don’t look kindly on this union. There are even rumors that this is a breach of our neutrality. It’s true—none of the three dukes has ever formed a blood tie with the royal family, precisely out of such concerns.”

 

His frankness in bringing up the matter left everyone stunned and silent.

 

“I’ve spent my whole life in the south. I’m a sailor, the kind of man who chooses the stormy sea over the rich, beautiful lands of the capital. This marriage is simply the result of my own overzealous concern—since my niece happened to be of marrying age, I dared to think she might suit His Highness. There is no further intention behind it.” As if he wished he could lay his innocent heart bare for all to see, Duke Perus tapped his left chest and finished speaking. “If anyone here doubts my intentions or wishes to oppose this engagement, please step forward now.”

 

A heavy silence descended over the hall. Duke Perus was a sailor through and through—broad as a bear, his skin tanned by the sun. At first glance, his coarse-looking appearance gave him the look of a countryman. Yet no one dared to belittle or underestimate him.

 

After succeeding his predecessor, he had swiftly accomplished what none of his ancestors could: launching the iron ore trade. He had even managed to humble the once-equal Diponz family, and now, with unstoppable momentum, he even managed to seat his niece as the future queen. No one truly believed he was without ambition. But anyone who dared to speak up knew they’d be courting disaster.

 

With no one bold enough to object, Duke Perus let out a hearty chuckle and raised his glass. “Then I’ll take that as a no, and raise my glass. If this old man may be permitted. Your Highness?”

 

“Of course.”

 

Duke Perus lifted his glass high above his head, and his booming voice rang out with a toast. “Then, to His Highness the Third Prince and Octavia—”

 

“Duke Perus.” A low voice cut him off. “Can you stand by those words?”

 

The entire hall froze, as if doused with ice water. Like a lion whose tail had been stepped on, Duke Perus snapped his head toward the source of the voice.

 

“…Count Dwibon.” Duke Perus frowned, clearly displeased by the unexpected interloper. “What did you just say?”

 

The one who had interrupted was none other than the true power in the royal palace—the man responsible for managing the royal household and holding both administrative and judicial authority over the palace grounds. Count Dwibon, the chamberlain. He’s the current king’s most loyal vassal and right-hand man. Though his influence had waned somewhat since his master had taken to his sickbed, he was still a force to be reckoned with in the capital.

 

Those who had suspected Duke Diponz might be the one to speak up exchanged puzzled glances. Even Shailoh watched the scene unfold, barely daring to breathe.

 

“I meant exactly what I said.”

 

Footsteps echoed louder and louder across the marble floor.

 

Duke Perus, his face twisted in anger, slammed his fist down on the table. “What did you say!”

 

The nobles seated nearby shrank back, cowed by the terrifying atmosphere.

 

“Are you accusing me of disloyalty?”

 

“Of course not.” Despite the tension enough to make anyone else flinch or even draw a sword, Count Dwibon replied smoothly, not so much as blinking.