Chapter 84: Fury & Humiliation

Whispers about Marquess Estelle had swept through the town like wildfire.

Every corner, from bustling markets to dimly lit taverns, buzzed with the scandalous tidbits: the Marquess was rumored to be bankrupt, and even more shockingly, Sienna was not his biological daughter. MVLeMpYr-the-story-platform

He flaunted Sienna long before she ever debuted in high society, captivating countless boys with her refined qualities. But now?

Which respectable noble would spare her a second glance?

The aristocrats loathed adopted children and never saw them as equal. Only true blood mattered to them.

Iyana might have had a tarnished reputation before her return from the Ganlop, but at least she had the true pedigree of a marquess, unlike Sienna.

Then again, what did the title of Marquess even mean anymore? It was nothing but a hollow name. They had no real wealth or influence now.

In fact, they were far more impoverished than a low-rank baron. All of their businesses had failed so miserably as well; there was no chance of a comeback.

It seemed almost laughable that the emperor was marrying his son into such a destitute family.

These whispers grew louder and more animated the closer they got to the palace.

On top of that, within the emperor's court, gossip was the main course.

Noblewomen feigned concern while secretly relishing every juicy detail, and the courtiers swapped theories with the enthusiasm of children trading sweets. Even the palace staff couldn't resist joining in, their hushed voices carrying tales through the corridors. Sёarᴄh the NôᴠeFire.ηet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

Emperor Edgar, usually composed and imperious, was seething with rage. His face flushed with a mix of embarrassment and fury as he sat at his throne in the grand hall.

The scandal was a direct blow to his pride; after all, he was known to personally choose the Marquess's daughter, Iyana, to wed his son, Prince Easton.

Now, every snide remark and incredulous stare felt like an attack on his judgment.

"How dare they? How dare that deceitful Marquess bring such shame upon this empire!" Edgar's voice thundered, sending echoes through the hall.

The courtiers, previously engrossed in their gossip, fell silent, nervously eyeing the emperor.

Edgar's glare swept over them, daring anyone to speak.

The trust he had placed in Marquess Estelle now felt like a dagger in his back, and he vowed to teach the marquess a lesson for tarnishing his reputation like this.

However, before that, there was someone else he must confront.

"Bring forth the crown prince," Emperor Edgar commanded, his voice resonating with lethal authority, eyes blazing with a fury that could sear stone.

Without delay, the guards scrambled to obey, fetching Easton with a haste that spoke volumes of their fear.

In moments, Easton stood before the emperor, bowing with measured courtesy.

"Why did you wish to see me, Your Imperial Majesty?" Easton inquired, defiance flickering in his gaze like a stubborn flame.

"You!" Edgar roared, his voice echoing through the grand hall, causing the courtiers to shrink back in terror—everyone except Easton.

"It is because of your obstinate desire to marry that girl that I am facing such disgrace! I commanded you to choose another worthy bride, but no! You remained fixated on her! Do you know what people are saying about me? That I lack the discernment to judge character!"

"Your Imperial Majesty," Easton began, his tone respectful yet unyielding, as if he had anticipated this confrontation. "How is it Lady Iyana's fault if her family has gone bankrupt and her father concealed her sister's adoption?"

Edgar's laughter was cold and mirthless, a sharp contrast to the tense atmosphere.

"You are naive, aren't you? How do you expect to rule this empire if you are so gullible? Do you truly believe she was unaware of these matters?" He leaned forward, his piercing gaze challenging Easton.

For a moment, Easton faltered, uncertainty creeping into his thoughts. He couldn't be sure if Iyana had known.

No, that uncertainty was irrelevant. What mattered was defending her honor.

"I am certain she did not. I know her better than anyone; she is not the type to deceive," Easton declared, his voice steady and resolute.

Edgar scoffed, incredulous at his son's perceived naivety. "You are so blinded by love that you fail to see the truth, Easton. You didn't even bother to show up during the Walver Pandemic—"

"Father, I explained why I couldn—" Easton began, sounding offended.

"Silence! How dare you interrupt me?" Edgar roared, and for the first time, genuine fear gripped Easton.

His father had never been this furious, especially not with him, Edgar's favored child among his five offspring. Now, he stood as the target of Edgar's wrath.

"With all the rumors about your incompetence swirling around, you dare to display such disrespect? Have you forgotten your place?" Edgar demanded.

Easton swallowed hard, bowing his head and dropping to one knee. "My sincerest apologies, Your Imperial Majesty." His voice trembled with shame, unaccustomed to such public chastisement.

Edgar studied Easton's submission before delivering his ultimatum. "If you truly wish to apologize, call off this wedding."

Easton looked up in shock, his eyes wide with desperation. "Your Imperial Majesty, please, you cannot do this," he insisted.

"Why can't I? I will show you that I can," Edgar retorted, his stubbornness evident. "There is no way I will allow you to marry a girl from such a treacherous family!"

"But—"

"Don't you dare contest this," Edgar's glare was lethal, silencing any further protest. "Defend her one more time, and you will find no worse enemy than me."

Easton pressed his lips together, his mind racing.

How could he abandon Iyana now, so close to their wedding? He had envisioned their life together for so long. If only these scandals had emerged after their marriage, no one could separate them.

But now, his hands were tied. Already disfavored after the Walver Pandemic debacle, he faced yet another crisis.

It was as if the universe—or someone—was deliberately plotting against him, painting him as a careless, foolish, and heartless crown prince.

Desperation ate away at him. Wasn't there anyone who would support him, prove that he was not as he was portrayed?

As he scanned the court, the answer became painfully clear. He was alone, utterly forsaken, even by his own father.

What had he done to deserve this? He has always tried his best in everything. So now, why were all of those things being overlooked?

Only a miraculous savior could save him now—

Just then, the grand doors swung open, and Althea walked in.

She entered with an air of unshakable confidence, her head held high, and a slightly knowing smile playing on her lips. Every eye turned to her.

Easton felt a flicker of hope.

Perhaps she would be his savior in this mess, the one to navigate the storm of scandal and restore some semblance of sense and logic. Their talk last time seemed good as well—

But as Althea began to speak after her formal greeting, Easton's hope quickly faded.

Instead of the soothing words of reassurance he had expected, her tone was sharp and her words cutting, "Your Imperial Majesty, with due respect, you shouldn't be punishing the crown prince for a mistake that was out of his hands."

"Why is that?" Edgar inquired, his tone measured.

"You understand he is in love, don't you? As you know, love makes us all lose our senses," she expressed, adding a theatrical flair to her tone. "So it is only natural that Crown Prince Easton is lost in the insanity of love."

Everyone in the court hall nodded in agreement, and Easton suddenly felt as though his rationality was being stripped away. Why would love make him lose his senses? He was perfectly fine. Why were they treating him as an obsessive fool?

Not to mention, he couldn't comprehend why Althea was allowed to barge in so easily, nor could he understand since when she spoke to their father so openly.

When has all of this changed?

"Since he made a naive mistake in choosing Lady Iyana, let us not dwell on it much," Althea suggested. "In fact, you should rather punish the Estelles."

A sense of dread settled in Easton's gut, and he immediately tried to protest, "Your Imperial Majesty—"

It only took another glare from Edgar to silence him once again.

"Ignore him. What do you suggest we do, Princess Althea?" Edgar asked, and Easton almost couldn't believe his ears.

Their father had never prioritized Althea's opinions before, rather he always treated her as invisible. He was so nonchalant towards her that he didn't even care about her age of marriage—

Althea's eyes met Easton's, and she smirked, almost as if taunting him.

That's when it all became clear—the one who was responsible for painting him as an incompetent heir. She had been behind all this all along. She hasn't let go of her hatred against him even now.

Althea's lips twitched up as she finally uttered, "I suggest you revoke the Estelles of their title."