Chapter 208: Talk With Lira

Chapter 208: Talk With LiraAs they walked away, Mira couldn't help but admire Lira's change in attitude. Perhaps the tension between them earlier had been misplaced.

Lira was not resisting her fate but was instead positioning herself to make the best of it. Mira had no doubt that Lira was trying to win Adrian's favor.

Whether it was for the sake of the family or her own ambition, it didn't matter. What mattered was that things were moving according to plan.

Mira's thoughts drifted back to Sophia as the maids led her down the hall. She had played her cards this morning, and while they hadn't yielded the results she wanted, the game was far from over.

There was still time, and Mira had never been one to give up easily. Sophia might be oblivious now, but eventually, Mira would find a way to break through.

After all, she had never encountered a woman she couldn't seduce.

For now, though, she would rest—her mind already spinning with ideas for the next encounter. The pieces were in place, and the game was just beginning.

As Mira left the room, her footsteps echoed down the hall, gradually fading until only the soft hum of silence remained.

Lira stood motionless, her gaze fixed on the intricate pattern of the carpet beneath her feet. The weight of the moment bore down on the room, pressing an uneasy stillness into the air.

Adrian, ever attuned to the atmosphere, glanced around at the gathered individuals.

His eyes fell on Lira, whose head was bowed, her hands trembling slightly at her sides. The silence stretched, taut as a bowstring.

“Lady Lira,” Adrian spoke, his voice gentle yet firm, “would you prefer to speak privately? If this setting is too uncomfortable, we can have this conversation in separate room.”

Lira’s shoulders tensed at his words. A long moment passed before she lifted her head, eyes glistening with unshed tears. Sёarᴄh the Novёlƒire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

The internal battle raging within her was evident in the slight quiver of her lips and the way her chest rose and fell unevenly.

Finally, she exhaled, the tremor in her voice betraying the storm inside her.

“Help me, Baron Everhart,” she whispered, each word weighted with desperation.

Adrian’s brows furrowed, a flicker of confusion passing over his features. “How can I help you, Lady Lira?”

The question hung in the air, heavy and expectant. Lira drew a shaky breath, her composure splintering as she spoke.

“Please,” she said, her voice breaking. “Agree to the marriage with me. I can’t stay in that house any longer.”

A single tear slipped down her cheek, followed swiftly by more as the dam of her restraint gave way.

“To everyone in my family, I am nothing more than a tool—a pawn to be used for their ambitions. Whatever Mira suggests, my parents follow without question. The sister I grew up with is gone, replaced by a power-hungry woman willing to sacrifice anything—even me—to climb higher.”

The room grew colder, a chill that had nothing to do with the temperature seeping into the silence. Lira’s voice, now laden with grief and exhaustion, cracked as she continued.

“At first, I didn’t want to marry you,” she admitted, her eyes searching Adrian’s for some sign of understanding. “Even though I admired you for helping me escape Mortimer's prison that day, it was still Mira’s idea—a strategy, not a wish of my own.”

Adrian’s expression softened, a trace of sympathy touching his features as Lira’s confession poured forth.

“But when I saw how you treated your women, the care and loyalty you showed them—how you turned away a count’s proposal during these turbulent times just to protect those you love—I realized that maybe, just maybe, you were different. If you could show me even a fraction of that care, I would accept this marriage. At least then, I wouldn’t be a tool for my family to wield at their convenience.”

Tears streamed down her face unchecked, her chest heaving with sobs that no longer could be contained.

The rawness of her words gripped everyone in the room, suffusing the space with a palpable sense of shared pain.

Isabella, had her maternal instinct kicked as she looked at the young lady pouring out all her grievances , stepped forward without hesitation.

She wrapped her arms around Lira, drawing her close as if she were her own child.

“It’s all right, dear,” Isabella murmured, stroking Lira’s hair and holding her as if to shield her from the torment that plagued her heart. “You’re safe now. We’re here for you.”

The other women in the room, bound by shared empathy and understanding, gathered around Lira.

The warmth of their presence, the gentle reassurances whispered in soft voices, created a cocoon of solace that momentarily dulled the sting of her anguish.

Adrian watched the scene unfold, the sight of Lira’s vulnerability stirring a mix of emotions within him—compassion, resolve, and a protective instinct he hadn’t anticipated.

When the sobs subsided into quiet sniffles and Lira’s breathing steadied, Isabella released her, but kept a comforting hand on her shoulder.

Adrian took a step closer, his expression thoughtful but resolute. “Lady Lira,” he began, his voice steady and deliberate.

“I’ve always held positive feelings towards you, and I will gladly accept the marriage alliance. But understand this: the conditions I set before must not be violated. If those conditions are disregarded, I will have no choice but to refuse.”

The room fell silent again, the meaning of his words settling over Lira like a shadow.

The spark of hope in her eyes dimmed, her heart sinking as the realization dawned—her family, driven by ambition and Mira’s influence, would never agree to terms that curtailed their control.

A shudder ran through her as fresh tears welled up.

Just as she opened her mouth, prepared to voice her despair, Adrian’s voice cut through the silence once more.

“But that doesn’t mean I won’t make you my woman.”

Lira’s eyes widened, a flicker of surprise breaking through the cloud of hopelessness. Adrian’s gaze met hers, unwavering and fierce.

“Since you have come to me willingly, don’t think for a moment that I will let you walk away,” he continued. “From this day forward, you are mine. I will ensure that your family agrees to this union, whether they wish to or not.”

The weight of his declaration settled over the room like a blanket, the authority in his voice brooking no argument.

Lira’s breath caught in her throat, a mixture of relief and disbelief washing over her in waves.

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, the iron chains of expectation and manipulation that had bound her began to loosen.

Isabella’s smile, warm and approving, was mirrored by the other women gathered.

They had witnessed Adrian’s unwavering resolve before, but never had it been so deeply entwined with compassion.

Lira’s tears, now flowing freely once more, were not just of sorrow but of release—a release from fear, from entrapment, and from the belief that she was alone.

Adrian extended his hand to Lira, his eyes softening as he spoke one final time.

“Trust me, Lira. I will protect you.”

With trembling fingers, she reached out and grasped his hand, the last vestiges of her fear dissolving as their fingers entwined.

For the first time, hope flickered to life in her heart—a fragile, precious thing that she would cling to as the pieces of her shattered world began to realign.