I Will End My 10-Year Unrequited Love - Chapter 50

“You’re always so well-behaved everywhere. How about trying that on me for once?”

Cyrone gave a sly chuckle. As he strode toward the main seat, the crowd parted like a sea, making way.

Meanwhile, Horace lay sprawled on the floor, unable to move for quite some time. Those watching, who had been holding their breath moments before, now looked down at the fallen Horace, who had become a joke.

It wasn’t surprising. Horace was born the eldest son of Duke Reiffers. He was so noble that he had been personally named by the late Crown Prince himself. Seeing such a distinguished man humiliated so thoroughly was a rare spectacle indeed.

“You, you—”

Shaking, Horace lifted his head and fixed a venomous glare on Elia. This was not the composed Horace who always masked his emotions expertly. His face twisted, and his eyes burned with a wild intensity, half his mind had slipped away.

Mocking him, Cyrone’s voice echoed from the main seat.

“The Young Duke seems tired today. Take him away.”

At that command, the courtiers lurking like shadows surged forward. They pinned Horace’ shoulders and bound him before swiftly dragging him out of the hall.

Cyrone clicked his tongue coldly at the sight of Horace being hauled away. He showed no mercy to the dog who had dared block his master’s path and forgot his place.

It was a humiliating, pitiful retreat that left a blemish on the Reiffers family’s prestige.

Yet, Cyrone, the architect of this entire scene, remained calm. The atmosphere in the hall turned icy cold, and even the Empress glanced nervously at Cyrone, as though witnessing something unbearable.

“But he is still a member of the Reiffers family.”

The Empress murmured reproachfully. Only then did Cyrone turn to look back, smiling faintly with narrowed eyes as if questioning.

“What’s the problem, Your Majesty?”

His voice carried no malice.

No one present, not even the Empress, nor the Emperor at the empire’s pinnacle, would have dared treat the Reiffers family this way before. But from now on, things were evidently going to be different.

“Unlike my mother, I’m not very merciful to the unfilial.”

Cyrone said with a playful, yet ominous tone, making sure everyone heard him clearly. The Empress found herself unable to add anything further. She was weighed down by an inexplicable pressure pressing down on her shoulders.

Instead of ignoring or avoiding the Reiffers family as his predecessors did, Cyrone made it unmistakably clear who now held the reins of power in this game.

Even the seasoned senior ministers’ fates hung in Cyrone’s palm. The Empress, fully aware of this, chose silence over attempting to display her authority.

* * *

Duke Reiffers entered the hall much later with a stern face. Though he must have already heard the news about his son, he showed no sign of it and maintained calm.

“My apologies for my tardiness, Your Highness.”

Reiffers said, bowing deeply with proper respect.

Cyrone returned the gesture with his usual smile. As Reiffers stepped back to his seat, his eyes remained peaceful. Yet in a fleeting moment, a cold glare flickered between them.

Elia felt as if she was walking on thin ice. Cyrone had made an example of Horace, warning the entire Reiffers family. The humiliation of Horace, the heir apparent, was a clear signal to drag the family’s prestige down into the dirt.

Reiffers, who knew this better than anyone, was surely grinding his teeth with murderous intent toward Cyrone. He was a man who never forgot even the smallest insult.

Elia watched Reiffers anxiously.

“I have brought a special wine from the southern territories for Your Highness.”

Reiffers said, smiling amiably at Cyrone.

At that moment, a familiar servant entered, carrying a small, transparent glass bottle. The servant bowed deeply, attempting to stay unnoticed.

“Oh, if it is a wine personally procured by Duke Reiffers, it must be something quite rare.”

“Indeed, I’m curious about how exceptional it might be.”

All eyes turned toward the bottle, everyone wondered what wine the Duke had brought to present directly to the Crown Prince. But Elia’s gaze drifted elsewhere.

‘That boy…’

She studied the servant’s bowed figure, instinctively recognizing the familiar frame. It was the same boy who had tried to bring the tray downstairs that day.

Realizing this, Elia hurriedly looked at the bottle again. The deep, alluring crimson of the wine shimmered within.

“Your Highness, I’m eager to taste its exquisite flavor. Perhaps you could share a little with us.”

The people began to speak one by one. The previously frozen atmosphere lightened noticeably. It was a moment expected and accepted, that of a vassal presenting tribute to his lord.

But only Elia watched the scene with unease in her eyes.

“Elia.”

At that moment, someone gently grasped Elia’s fingertips beneath the table. The sudden warmth startled her.