Nobles who lived off Marquis Teneri joined in, openly bursting into mockery.

“It seems you’ve mistaken a purchased title for actual status.”

“Haha! Having lived that way for so long, it’s understandable. Let’s be understanding.”

Aaron’s lips were about to move.

“Marquis, Young Marquis, I greet you.”

Lucilia curtseyed to the two men who were once her blood relatives.

At that moment, the surrounding noise subsided into silence as if sucked into an abyss.

It was a terribly eerie stillness.

Though music played in her ears, it felt like the sound was muffled and scattered, as if separated by a curtain.

Perhaps it was due to the coldness emanating from the Marquis.

He wouldn’t be pleased with this encounter with a daughter he had hoped would never return.

It would have been better if he had avoided her and slipped away.

Haight, provoked by Lucilia’s approach, spewed harsh words without hiding his hostility.

“This doesn’t seem like a place for the Young Baroness to interfere, does it?”

“Is even greeting not allowed?”

“I can’t help but think you’re deliberately speaking to us, knowing it would be uncomfortable.”

Furrowed brows, sharp eyes, quivering lips.

Though he maintained formal speech, his whole body expressed rejection.

He wouldn’t be pleased to be associated with Lucilia, as it would only lead to gossip from scandal-mongers.

But while Lucilia could tolerate being ostracized herself, she couldn’t stand by and watch Aaron be targeted.

Was it because she always sacrificed for her family and was always docile that they treated her so lightly?

Though they shared the same blood, it felt as if the blood flowing through their veins was of different colors.

The brother who once adored her was no more.

He was merely rejecting Lucilia for the reason that she had tarnished the family’s honor.

Haight was as arrogant to her as he was to Aaron.

“So, Young Baroness, restrain yourself.”

‘Restrain myself? Who are you to say that!’

As the dispute was about to escalate, Aaron turned his head toward Lucilia.

No, he was about to turn.

“I will. But before that, I’ll point out the error in the Young Marquis’s words, then I’ll restrain myself.”

“What?”

“You just told my husband that he has benefited from the Teneri family’s grace, didn’t you?”

“Is there a problem with that?”

“A title bought with money, a corrupt noble… You said those things too.”

“So what’s your point?”

His eyes, exactly like his father’s, rose sharply like a diagonal line.

Lucilia raised the corner of her mouth, unfazed.

More composed and more dignified than her brother.

“Then what does that make the Teneri family who sold the title for money? Merchants? Or a hotbed of corruption? Please teach me how best to interpret this.”

As a precarious sense of crisis arose, the nobles gathered around swallowed dry saliva. While pretending to be proper, they were likely hoping for the fight to escalate.

She could clearly imagine them snickering that there had never been a party as exciting as this one.

Haight, pushed into a defensive position, trembled his chin in shame at becoming their prey. He clenched his molars as if suppressing nausea and glared.

“Answer me, and I’ll withdraw immediately.”

Just as she was about to press further.

The Marquis, who had been suppressing his anger, came walking over with twitching mustache.

“How dare you try to insult us!”

Not realizing how dangerously fierce Aaron’s mood was becoming.

“Whose favor is it that you’re even alive!”

“Of course, it’s thanks to Your Excellency the Marquis. And in return, I was coldly abandoned.”

“I warn you, maintain exactly this much distance as you are now. You must remember that you are not family.”

“…Very well. Since we’re no longer family, both Your Excellency and the Young Marquis should treat my husband as the future lord of Tudra. It looks quite ugly to slight him with such emotion.”

“W-what? Ugly? What insolence!”

The Marquis, who had roared ferociously, raised his arm high. He seemed ready to strike Lucilia’s cheek without hesitation.

Would he have dared to touch her if she were still a saint?

Her father was a far more petty and cunning person than she had thought. He was making a scene to clearly establish their severed relationship in front of everyone.

Just as the Marquis’s arm was about to draw a diagonal line, a huge shadow fell in front of Lucilia.

Aaron blocked Lucilia with his large body and grabbed the Marquis’s wrist.

The Marquis must have been on the verge of exploding with rage, finding it utterly unpleasant that such a lowly person had laid hands on him, but he was helplessly subdued by the quiet anger spreading from Aaron.

Even without raising his voice, the chilling energy wrapped in his low voice lashed all around.

“There are many eyes watching. Were you someone who couldn’t distinguish right from wrong enough to lay hands on another man’s wife? Let’s stop this disgraceful behavior here.”

“Y-you!”

Unable to curse outright, he ground his teeth.

How unsightly his father’s appearance was, and it was surprising how he had become so broken.

It was a moment that made her realize the saying that it’s difficult to thoroughly know a person’s heart, even if they’re family.

Looking back at the situation where family had become worse than strangers, everything felt empty.

Their love for her was only possible when it was accompanied by family benefits. Even the abundance they provided in her childhood was for profit in the marriage market.

Though she had deviated from the set path, their love could continue because she walked the path of a saint, guaranteed with universal respect and sacred status.

Facing reality coldly, she felt to the bone how naively she had lived until now.

With an expression that was neither smiling nor crying, but rather seemed pained at heart, she exhaled emptily.

“If you intend to humiliate my wife as well, please tell me in advance. Then I might as well break your wrist while I have hold of it.”

As he threatened the Marquis without restraint, people’s mouths fell open.

The faces of the thoroughly humiliated Marquis and Haight were in complete disarray, reddened to the point they couldn’t get any redder.

Fearing Aaron might get into trouble, Lucilia pulled at his clothes. The moment her feeble touch reached him, the tension in his firmly pressed jaw released.

Aaron let go of the Marquis and reached his arm back to hold her hand.

His large grip was hot enough to burn.

“Isn’t dignity the same as face? A back-alley thug has no dignity, so he behaves rudely, but Your Excellency is of a different status, aren’t you?”

It was a shameful question asking what made him different from a thug.

This is really going to cause trouble.

Lucilia’s insides burned black with worry.

This wasn’t why she had interfered.

She had hoped her father’s flames would reach her, not Aaron.

She thought that after going this far, her father and brother wouldn’t act rashly anymore. Her only thought was to separate Aaron and bring this to an end.

But then, appearing from somewhere, Kel made a grunt.

“Oh my! What spectacle is this that doesn’t even allow room for me to squeeze in?”

Kel thr*st his arm into the midst of the men and parted them to both sides.

Haight, spotting Kel, immediately showed proper etiquette.

“Your Grace the Duke, you’ve arrived.”

“What’s this? Why is our saint’s complexion so pale? Who troubled her? Shall I punish them?”

Ignoring Haight’s greeting, he only looked at Lucilia. Kel nodded slowly at Aaron, who was firmly holding her hand, as if he understood.

“My… I wonder who was cornered. The saint? Or Lord Artnal?”

As he surveyed the surroundings, Kel’s brightly folded eyes sharpened like blades in an instant.

A dignity that couldn’t be overcome settled in his gentle tone.

“If the saint was being troubled, our brave knight would have protected her, right? Then who protects our brave knight? Looking at it, Lord Artnal seems to have been beaten too… Everyone has lost their fear.”

Even men who hadn’t directly participated flinched at Kel’s words. It seemed they might incur the Duke’s misunderstanding if they remained still.

The men stepped back one pace, without anyone taking the lead.

Eventually, the red eyes, symbol of the royal bloodline, captured the Marquis and Haight precisely.

“Lord Artnal is a loyal subject recognized by His Majesty the King. Unless one’s liver has come out of their belly or their brain has flowed out of their head, they wouldn’t dare mistreat him. Surely… it’s not such a concerning situation, is it?”

“Haha! A disturbance at this meaningful banquet prepared by His Majesty? Absolutely not. Ha, haha.”

In place of the Marquis, Haight exaggeratedly wrinkled his brow and waved his hand as if he had heard the strangest thing.

As if asking whether Haight’s words were true, Kel looked at Aaron. But Aaron didn’t give a glance to the benefactor who had appeared in his moment of crisis.

What filled Aaron’s mind was Lucilia’s radiant smile.

A smile directed at the Duke, not her husband.