Chapter 26
The one who had called out to Abel was not the Duchess of Spencer, whom he had just reprimanded, but the Duke himself.
“If my wife offended you, then allow me to apologize in her stead.”
And with that apology, Felix’s mood grew even darker.
‘Can divine power become that sharp and jagged?’
This was the first time Abel had ever paid such close attention to someone else’s divine power, so he could not say for certain.
“She must have been unable to contain her joy at seeing her child again after so long.”
Though his eyes were on the Duke, Abel’s attention remained fixed entirely on Felix behind him. It was only after hearing those words that he truly looked at the Duke.
The divine power that had been bristling around Felix suddenly dulled.
It was by no means a good sign.
It meant Felix was watching himself again, carefully measuring his reactions.
It had been a mistake, but after going to the trouble of bolstering Felix’s spirits, Abel could not allow that.
“Am I mistaken about the meaning of the word joy?”
He now knew that Felix disliked it when he interfered with matters concerning the Duke and Duchess, but this time it could not be helped.
Abel had no idea how to comfort someone.
“If not, then perhaps the Duke is simply lacking in tact.”
So even if it meant making Felix angry at him instead, he had no choice but to lift his spirits that way.
Besides, the excuse had been utterly inadequate.
A simple apology would have sufficed, yet the Duke had felt the need to justify it with that explanation. That alone told Abel all he needed to know about Felix’s standing within the ducal household.
They would provoke Felix first, and if he reacted in any way, they would likely turn around and ask whether he was imagining things, painting him as the unreasonable one.
‘So that’s why Felix hides behind such a thick mask.’
No matter how he responded, he would be criticized, so he had learned to do nothing but smile meaninglessly.
“And I would rather hear an apology from the Duchess herself, not from you, Duke.”
Neither the Duke nor the Duchess pleased him.
Abel turned to look at the Duchess, who had kept her head bowed ever since he had first called her out. Even now, after being addressed so directly, she showed no sign of raising it.
Judging by the way she clutched her dress with both hands, tightly enough to whiten her knuckles, there was no way she had failed to hear him.
“I wasn’t referring to myself. I meant Sir Felix.”
Even if the Duchess’s stare had truly meant nothing, Abel did not care.
She could experience for herself what it felt like to be cornered.
He was about to demand another apology from the Duchess, this time making sure the Duke could not speak in her stead, when someone stopped him.
“Lord Abel.”
Felix had merely spoken his name, yet the meaning was obvious.
In a voice tightly restrained, Felix was pleading with him to let it go.
But Abel did not want to.
Why?
Because he was angry with the Duke and Duchess.
It was a startling realization.
He had stepped in for Felix’s sake, yet somewhere along the way, his own emotions had taken over.
Since when had he started feeling genuinely angry?
Since Gregory and the Emperor had silently allowed the scene to unfold, watching him as though probing for something? Since the Duke had stepped forward and turned his attention to Felix? Since the Duchess had lowered her head as though she were the wronged party?
Abel fell silent.
Felix wanted him to stop, and so he should.
But Abel was angry.
So no matter how Felix pleaded—
Abel lowered his gaze to the rough, calloused hand with its prominent knuckles that had cautiously reached out and taken hold of his fingertips.
“…”
“Lord Abel.”
Abel understood.
Felix hated him.
Abel knew exactly how much.
He knew how much Felix loathed being touched by him, how repulsive he found Abel’s touch.
Even on the verge of death, Felix had squirmed in protest because he had not wanted to remain in Abel’s arms.
And yet that same Felix had reached out first in order to stop him.
It was not even a proper grasp. He had barely managed to catch the tips of Abel’s fingers, his hold so weak it could hardly be called one at all.
But Abel could not ignore that feeble touch.
Felix had not merely taken his hand.
Everyone in the banquet hall was watching them. Just as Abel was staring at the hand Felix had seized, so too were all the others.
There was no way Felix did not know what kind of rumors would spread after this.
And yet he had still stepped forward.
Which meant he truly, desperately wanted Abel to stop.
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