Chapter 138: An Attempt At Sabotage.

Chapter 138

The grand throne room was suffocating with the restless energy of the high court. Dozens of nobles, clad in silks and heavy velvet, shifted their weight, their whispered complaints swelling into a dull hum that echoed off the vaulted marble ceiling. Upon the raised dais sat King Reginald, Queen Evelyn, Crown Prince Ragnar, and Crown Princess Maria.

Standing before the steps of the throne was Lord Cedric Ashbourne, the King’s chief aide, his hands resting over the formal parchment rolls containing the day’s agenda. The court had gathered for the formal introduction of the candidates for Lord Chancellor and the registration of their high-noble supporters. Yet, the proceedings had been brought to an agonizing halt. Nearly half an hour had passed beyond the appointed hour, and Marquess Caspian Warwick stood alone among the candidates, missing the vital presence of his primary elector.

Crown Prince Ragnar leaned forward in his carved throne, his brow furrowed in a dark, impatient scowl. His harsh gaze locked onto Caspian, who stood with his spine perfectly straight despite the dozens of mocking eyes fixed upon him. "Marquess," Ragnar boomed, his voice cutting through the hall, "do you intend to make fools of this entire assembly? Where is your lauded supporter? Why were you so utterly foolish as to select a Duchess whose name carries nothing good attached to it, relying upon her vote despite her well-documented incompetence?"

Inside his mind, Caspian felt a cold wave of revulsion for the Prince. He had never harbored respect for Ragnar—a man who was friends eith his half brother who spent his time tormenting the Marquess and whose past entanglement with Sigrid was rooted in deceit. Yet, Caspian kept his expression an unreadable mask, stepping forward with measured grace. "Your Highness, I selected the Duchess because she is a woman of profound capability and intellect. I am entirely certain there is a legitimate reason for her delay."

Ragnar let out a harsh scoff, leaning back with a sneer. beside him, Crown Princess Maria placed a gentle, comforting hand upon the Prince’s sleeve, her voice dripping with practiced sweet sympathy. "Pray, do not anger yourself, Ragnar," Maria murmured softly, ensuring her gentle tone carried to the surrounding lords. "You know how my dear sister has always been. She has ever been somewhat unreliable and prone to her little difficulties."

Ragnar reached up, patting Maria’s hand with a tender, protective gesture. "Do not seek to excuse her behavior, my dear Maria—not after all the distress she has inflicted upon you."

Caspian’s jaw tightened. Before he could calculate the risk, the words slipped past his lips. "The Duchess is many things, Your Highness, but she is anything but unreliable."

A shocked gasp rippled through the nearest rows of nobles. Caspian’s eyes widened slightly as he realized he had spoken his defense aloud in open court. Ragnar shot to his feet, his face flushing with rage. "How dare a recognized bastard criticize the words of the Crown Princess?!" Ragnar roared, pointing a finger at the Marquess. "Do you harbor a desire to be thrown into the dungeons for your insolence?!"

Before the Prince could order his guards forward, Lord Cedric Ashbourne stepped forward, placing himself between the dais and the Marquess. "Your Highness," Cedric interjected calmly, his tone carrying the firm weight of administrative law. "You are facing the assembled court. Pray, temper your wrath." Ragnar gritted his teeth, his fingers curling into fists as he slowly forced himself to sit back down. Cedric then turned his gaze to Caspian, a stern warning in his eyes. "Marquess Warwick, you ought to know better than to provoke the royal family during a state ceremony."

Caspian offered a low, respectful bow. "I offer my humble apologies, Lord Cedric. I merely could not stand by and allow the Duchess’s character to be slandered in her absence."

A faint, almost imperceptible smile touched the corner of Cedric’s mouth. "I understand your conviction, Marquess."

From across the aisle, Marquess Tristan Bellamy, a rival candidate for the Chancellorship, let out a mocking chuckle. "A touching defense, Warwick! Yet she remains conspicuously absent. So much for the grand word of a Duchess."

Cedric turned his head toward the massive, brass-embossed double doors at the far end of the hall. "Indeed, the hour grows late. Where could Her Grace be?"

Caspian maintained his posture, his voice unwavering. "She will come. I am certain of it."

Several impatience lords began to call out from the gallery, demanding that the ceremony commence without further delay. "We cannot keep the King waiting for the sake of one woman!" a voice declared. Cedric let out a quiet sigh, looking at Caspian with genuine regret. "I fear they speak with reason, Marquess. Today, we must proceed—"

Before Cedric could finish his sentence, the heavy brass doors were thrown open with a resounding thud that echoed like thunder through the silent hall.

The royal herald raised his staff, his voice booming over the crowd. "Announcing Her Grace, Sigrid Aethermor, Duchess of the North!"

A quiet hush fell over the room as Sigrid swept through the entrance. Clad in a gown of deep crimson velvet, her posture regal and untamed, she glided down the long marble aisle. Behind her followed Lilith, carrying a wrapped wooden case, while Chester and Maude marched with heavy, measured steps. Sigrid’s crimson eyes swept over the scowling nobles on either side, taking in their visual annoyance. We cut the travel exceedingly close, she observed privately, her face revealing nothing.

Approaching the base of the dais, she stopped before the scowling figures of Queen Evelyn and Prince Ragnar, dropping into a deep, agonizingly graceful curtsy. "Your Majesties, Your Highnesses, Lord Cedric... pray accept my most sincere apologies for my delayed arrival."

King Reginald leaned forward on his golden throne, his expression stern. "Duchess Sigrid, you have kept this entire court waiting—nobles who possess pressing state affairs, and your Sovereign. What possible justification do you bring to rectify such a severe breach of court etiquette?"

Sigrid rose smoothly to her feet, her expression perfectly composed. She gestured toward the rear entrance, where Maude stepped forward carrying a leather pouch of evidence, alongside Chester, who led a pale, bandaged man wearing the royal courier crest into the light. Gasps of shock echoed through the hall as the nobles took in the messenger’s battered appearance. "I did not receive the official summons detailing that today was the preliminary registration until late this morning, Your Majesty," Sigrid announced, her voice ringing clear and steady. "Consequently, it was impossible to depart the northern pass at the expected hour."

Lord Cedric’s brow furrowed in immediate confusion. "That is impossible, Duchess. I dispatched the royal courier a full day in advance, knowing the distance between the Northern Fortress and the capital."

"Indeed, Lord Cedric," Sigrid replied smoothly. "However, the missive reached my hands only an hour ago because this royal messenger was brutally ambushed along the mountain pass. He was left near death in the snow. I suspect a rival candidate hired bandits to intercept the courier, seeking to prevent my arrival, invalidate House Aethermor’s vote, and paint Marquess Caspian in a disgraceful light before the court."

Another wave of shocked murmurs swept through the hall. Ragnar instantly stood up, sneering down at her. "Lies! You are merely concocting an elaborate theatrical deception to cover for your own tardiness!"

Sigrid turned her gaze toward the Crown Prince, her crimson eyes cold and entirely devoid of fear. "Your Highness," she said, her voice dripping with icy calm, "I would advise you to exercise great caution before levying such baseless accusations without proof... lest you entangle your name in yet another public scandal so soon after the last."

Ragnar’s face twisted in sudden, murderous rage, his breath catching in his throat. Beside him, Queen Evelyn stood up, her eyes flashing with venomous authority. "You shall hold your tongue, Duchess!" the Queen commanded, her voice ringing across the dais. "You stand in the presence of the royal family!"

Sigrid remained motionless beneath the Queen’s glare. A heavy, suffocating silence fell over the throne room for several long seconds before Sigrid inclined her head slightly. "I offer my apologies, Your Majesty." Her tone sounded entirely polite and sincere to the surrounding nobles, yet both the Queen and Ragnar could discern the dangerous, mocking void behind her words. Turning back to Lord Cedric, Sigrid continued seamlessly. "I would never intentionally arrive late to jeopardize the standing of Marquess Caspian. He is a valued comrade, and House Aethermor honors its alliances. What possible reason would I have to sabotage my own ally?"

Cedric’s eyes widened slightly as he processed her sharp logic. "A valid point, Duchess. Where is the evidence of this ambush?"

Sigrid signaled to Maude, who stepped forward and presented a torn, blood-stained piece of embroidered silk to the chief aide. "My vanguard inspected the site of the attack," Sigrid explained. "They recovered this scrap of fabric snagged on the thickets. It belongs neither to House Aethermor nor to the royal courier service, but bears the private crest of a noble house."

Cedric took the fabric, his eyes narrowing as he recognized the golden thread. His expression hardened into absolute fury. "Guards!" he called out sharply. A squad of royal knights materialized at his command. Cedric pointed directly toward the back rows, where Lord Sebastian Crownhill stood, his face drained of all color as he trembled violently. "Arrest Lord Sebastian Crownhill immediately!"

"No! This is a mistake! I am innocent!" Sebastian screamed as the royal knights seized his arms, dragging him toward the center aisle.

Cedric stared down at the trembling nobleman with utter disgust. "How dare you commit treason by attacking a royal messenger, attempting to manipulate a state election while casting blame upon the Duchess and Marquess Warwick! Your candidacy for Lord Chancellor is permanently revoked, and you shall answer to the King’s justice for treason!"

The court watched in stunned silence as Sebastian was dragged shouting from the hall.

Cedric turned back to Sigrid, offering a respectful bow. "Duchess, the court offers its profound apologies for the grievous mishap and the slander raised against your name."

Sigrid permitted herself a subtle, radiant smile. "Think nothing of it, Lord Cedric. I have grown quite accustomed to my name being slandered without cause."

Cedric let out a low smirk at her dry wit. Sigrid then gestured to Lilith, who stepped forward and presented the velvet-lined wooden case. "As a gesture of goodwill for the disruption my late arrival caused, pray accept this bottle of the North’s finest vintage."

Cedric took the gift with genuine appreciation. "You are most gracious, Duchess Aethermor."

"It is my pleasure, Lord Cedric Ashbourne," Sigrid replied smoothly. She bowed once more to the King before turning to take her designated place among the high electors alongside Caspian. Yet, as she glided toward her seat, Sigrid felt the distinct, uncomfortable sensation of a sharp gaze fixed upon her. It originated neither from Caspian nor from the royal family on the dais. From the shadowy alcoves of the upper gallery, a pair of unknown eyes watched her every move with intense calculation. Sigrid kept her gaze fixed forward, filing the sensation away in her mind as she prepared to dominate the court’s game.