The grand dining hall of the duke's estate was a place of cold elegance. Chandeliers sparkled overhead, their light casting cruel reflections on polished marble floors. A long table stretched down the center of the room, already filled with chattering nobles — uncles, aunts, cousins — each one bearing the signature silver-blonde hair of the Duke's bloodline.
Maliny entered quietly, her hand lightly resting on Druvok's arm for guidance. The moment they stepped inside, the chatter dulled to a chilling hush. Dozens of eyes turned to her — some curious, most disdainful.
Druvok could feel the tension tighten around them like a noose.
Maliny's fingers trembled slightly against his sleeve, and though she wore a polite, composed mask, Druvok could see the fear behind her cloudy eyes.
One of the younger cousins, a tall, sharp-featured man named Ralven, spoke first.
"Well, if it isn't our precious little princess. Didn't expect you to show your face here, cousin."
His words dripped with mockery.
Another voice, a woman's, followed. Larau, back in her pristine evening gown, her expression smug.
"Careful, Ralven. She might cry again and run to her pet monster."
Soft laughter echoed around the table.
Druvok's jaw clenched, but Maliny merely lowered her head, her lips tight.
An older uncle leaned forward, his cold gaze fixed on Maliny.
"It's still a mystery to me why His Grace insists on keeping you here. A blind girl is no use for our bloodline… can't be married off, can't forge alliances, can't even manage household affairs. What are you, other than a burden?"
Another voice — yet another cousin, pretending kindness.
"Perhaps her pet beast can be put to good use. Seems he's already made a habit of snarling at his betters."
More mocking chuckles.
Druvok's temper flared, his hand twitching toward his dagger out of old habit.
How dare these pampered, arrogant humans speak this way — not only about her, but about him? He was a warlord once. A general. A terror on battlefields. Now reduced to a "pet" in their eyes.
He opened his mouth to speak, but Maliny gently tugged at his sleeve, her fingers trembling.
Then Ralven smirked and added,
"I still remember the look on your face when the Third Prince broke your engagement, Maliny. Right there, in front of the entire court. Pitiful. You should've left the estate that day."
Maliny's face turned pale as death. Her lips quivered, and Druvok saw it — the shine of tears forming in her unseeing eyes.
That was it.
Druvok took a step forward, his voice sharp and venomous.
"Say one more word, and I'll rip your tongue out."
Gasps filled the room. The nobles recoiled, staring at him as though he were a feral beast. A servant dropped a silver platter.
Ralven's face twisted in fury.
"How dare you speak like that to your betters, beast?! You're no more than a collared dog!"
Druvok bared his teeth in a grin that was anything but friendly.
"I've slain men worth a hundred of you. Be grateful I still find your bones too soft to bother breaking."
Before the tension could boil over, the heavy oak doors of the dining hall opened with a resonating boom.
A wave of silence swept over the room as three figures entered.
First came the former Duke — an imposing, stern man with hair white as snow and a gaze that could freeze blood.
Beside him, the current Duke — Maliny's grandfather, his expression unreadable, cold authority radiating from him.
And finally, a young man with strikingly handsome features, sharp grey eyes, and the unmistakable bearing of someone born to command. Leonardo — Maliny's older brother, the young duke-in-waiting.
They surveyed the room, the tension, the standing Druvok and the pale Maliny.
Leonardo smirked faintly, a glint of something dangerous in his eyes.
"Looks like I arrived just in time," he drawled smoothly.
"What a heartwarming family gathering."
The room held its breath.
Maliny stood there, her heart pounding, wishing she could disappear into the floor.
Druvok's hand was still clenched into a fist at his side.
The unspoken battle lines were drawn.
To be continued…