Chapter 138
Chapter 138
Elena’s POV
The atmosphere had turned sharp and brittle, like a thin ice beneath bare feet. Whispers fluttered through the air around us, intensifying the tension as everyone started muttering under their breaths.
The weight of their stares clung to my skin, heavy, suffocating.
And then came the crack that split it all.‘
Not from the ones you’d expect—not from the Duchess who stood beside me moments ago with warmth in her hand–but from the Grand Princess herself.
She let out a loud, unrestrained snort, drawing every eye to her like a signal flare. With a sneer curling at the corner of her mouth, she tilted her head and inspected me with a look that could rot silver,
“So this is the woman Deacon has chosen?” she said with venomous amusement. “A divorced woman, rejected by one noble family and now clawing her way into another?”
Her voice sliced through the silence like a blade.
Gasps echoed faintly around the room.
The decor–the soft lighting, the finely tuned string quarter, the scent of blooming orchids–felt utterly mismatched to the hostility among these so–called nobles. Their masks were slipping, and I saw every wrinkle of cruelty beneath the powder and pearls.
A noblewoman behind me tsked. “I thought the Prince was just toying with her. I mean… actually planning to marry her? Really?”
Another chimed in, louder now that someone had permitted them to unleash. “She’s a skilled warrior, sure. Maybe even innocent like her ex–in–laws claimed. But let’s be honest, she’s still a divorced woman. Who brings tarnished silver into the royal collection?”
“She should be grateful anyone’s even letting her breathe the same air as the royals,” another muttered under her breath, shaking her head.
Their words didn’t cut me–they scraped like sandpaper, slow and deliberate, trying to erode what remained of my dignity. I had stood against beasts, swords, and betrayals that nearly shattered my soul, and yet here I stood again, bloodless, while women in silks tried to assassinate me with words.
My gaze turned–slowly, deliberately–to the Duchess beside me.
She had let go of my hand.
Her fingers, earlier warm and firm in their support, now hung idly at her side as if our connection had never existed. Her eyes weren’t on me. She was watching the crowd, chin raised ever so slightly, her lips curled in the faintest smirk–so faint you’d miss it unless you were looking for it.
But I was looking.
And in that moment, I understood.
This was her design.
So this is your plan? Raise me up just to tear me down when the crowd’s watching?
How foolish I had been to think her gesture of approval earlier was genuine. Her kindness was calculated, and her
support was a stage prop n her performance of control. Deacon had warned me you haven’t seen what she’s truly capable of yet. He had been right.
The simmering heat behind my calm expression crackled, I didn’t allow it to surface, but I knew the fire in my eyes would speak louder than any scream.
I wasn’t the only one being eaten alive by the room.
Princess Gelin fanned herself dramatically like a wilted flower, sighing loudly, “I truly cannot believe this is happening. It’s an embarrassment to the entire kingdom. Do the royal family no longer have standards?”
And then, like poison bubbling to the top, Julie finally stepped into the light.
“I was wondering how long you’d stay quiet,” I muttered under my breath.
Julie crossed her arms, her voice a whip. “Since you couldn’t wrap my cousin around your little slutty fingers and ended up discarded, now you’re aiming higher, are you? Chasing after the prince like a desperate dog?”
She clicked her tongle, shaking her head with exaggerated pity. “Honestly, I don’t know if you’re bold or just plain pathetic, Elena.”
I let out a soft, mocking laugh. Calm. Controlled. The kind of laugh that came before a storm.
I crossed my arms casually, leaning back against the nearby table like I had all the time in the world. My eyes Tocked onto hers with calculated boredom.
“I’m curious, Julie,” I said smoothly. “You’ve been fawning over Deacon for years. Every time he returned from battle, you were–hair curled, dress tightened, voice sweetened. But it was all in vain. Meanwhile, I stand here today, chosen by him. Not begged. Not pursued. Chosen. So tell me–who’s the truly unwanted one between us?” Gasps spread across the crowd like fire in dry grass. Julie’s face twisted in rage, her skin flushing an angry red.
“You little-!”
She raised a finger toward me, but I didn’t waste another second on her. My attention shifted to Princess Gelin, who was still glaring daggers at me.
“And as for you, Princess Gelin,” I said, my voice cutting through the thick air like a scalpel, “we’re meeting for the first time today. Yet you’ve treated me with hostility from the start. Is it my past marriage that offends you? The fact that the King asked for my hand before? Or perhaps that your precious nephew actually did ask for it, and I didn’t throw myself at his feet?”
Princess Gelin’s composure cracked, her nostrils flaring as she stepped forward.
“How dare you speak to me in that tone!”
I took a step forward as well, unflinching.
“I dare,” I said with quiet fire, “because my dignity isn’t up for your approval. It’s not yours to give or take. I don’t owe submission to you, or Deacon’s mother, or any of the women here who believe a woman’s worth ends the moment she stumbles.”
My eyes scanned the entire room. Every face turned toward me. And not a single soul dared speak.
Courtney, still standing beside the Grand Princess, finally stirred in anger. “You’re out of control, Elena! How dare you scold a royal elder?!”
I shrugged calmly. “I only spoke the truth. If the truth stings, perhaps it’s time you all reflect on your own deeds and words.”
Courtney trembled with rage, glancing at Princess Gelin for support, but the Princess herself had been rendered speechless. Her lips pressed into a thin, trembling line.
The silence tasted sweet.
Smirking, I straightened, brushing invisible dust from my dress. I opened my purse, pulled out my phone, and pretended to check the time before tucking it away again.
“I’ve offered my greetings and given my gift,” I said, tone polite but final. “And I believe we’ve mingled long enough. I’ve shown as much respect as I’ve been allowed.”
I stepped back and gave them a courteous smile and shallow bow.
“So please excuse me.”
My final words rang clear across the room:
“I had a lot of fun. Thanks for the invite.”
Then, without glancing back, I turned and walked out. Head held high. Shoulders unbent.
I didn’t need their acceptance.
And after tonight,—they would remember the moment they tried to break me… and failed.
