Chapter 166: Longing
"Head Priest, your lapse of judgent has almost cost the lives of my soldiers. Your decision to recall the healers leaving my soldiers helpless violates the agreent. And now you shall face repercussions." His eyes narrowed at the Head Priest who looked soulless.
He shifted his gaze to Edward, the true mastermind. Of course, only a few knew that. He intended to let the Head Priest take the fall... Hah... How could the great Empire fall victim to a young boy? It was... Surreal. But right now they could arrest the boy. No one was willing to testify against him, they had no proof.
The Head Priest and a few elders were imdiately taken into custody. The mbers of the Holy Temple were dissatisfied but they dared not to take action now. They had to bow their heads and take the humiliation.
Although the priests and priestesses were citizens of the Empire, they were loyal to only the Holy Temple. It was the temple that had been taking care of them since birth, it was the temple that fed them and because of the temple, they were treated with respect everywhere.
Their status was simply sothing no one else could reach. Because of the Emperor’s actions, their egos were bruised. This was sothing they would rember.
Back in the grand hall, Adeline remained, surrounded by Cassian, Alaric, and a few mbers of her father’s entourage. The dispersing crowd gave her a wide berth, their curiosity mixed with wariness.
The tension in the air began to dissipate, replaced by a soft murmur of approval. The nobles, though wary of approaching her directly, whispered to one another, exchanging glances filled with a mix of curiosity and admiration.
They were proud of her for being brave and were congratulating her. Alaric stood close by, he wanted to make sure he was here for her to lean on if needed.
He was proud of his little sister. With so many eyes on her, she did not falter, she bravely acted. Truly a Kendrick!
Since many nobles had gathered, the Northern Duke took this as a chance to deal with so affairs. Although he wore black, Benedict knew very well that he was not mourning his mother... He will never let this go. He will rember every action of his and get revenge...
Benedict’s eyes drifted to Adeline. She stood in the centre of the room, poised and radiant despite the heavy atmosphere. The sight of her brought a strange mixture of comfort and despair.
He wanted to approach her, to tell her everything that was weighing on him. She would understand—she always did. But sothing held him back.
Benedict wanted to talk to Adeline... He did not want to disturb her though. He didn’t want anyone to know... Which was weird because, at the sa ti, he wanted everyone to know how his father brought in his mistress.
With conflicting ideas, he simply stared at Adeline with longing.
For a mont, he entertained the thought that maybe, just maybe, she would notice him and co to him. But he quickly pushed it aside. It was selfish, he told himself. She didn’t need his pain overshadowing her mont.
His resolve wavered, and he turned to leave, his steps heavy with regret.
Cassian, ever watchful, noticed Benedict’s lingering gaze. He saw the way Benedict’s expression shifted, the way his shoulders drooped as he walked away.
For a brief mont, Cassian considered calling out to him, but he stopped himself. It wasn’t his place, and he doubted Benedict would welco his interference. Besides, he didn’t really want to invite him... There were enough people competing for her attention.
Instead, Cassian returned his attention to Adeline. She was speaking with one of her father’s advisors, her voice steady and clear. He admired her strength, just when he thought she couldn’t get any more incredible... She showed off her lightning powers.
There was a small smile on his face, she trusted him enough to tell him her secret... His head tilted and observed her. Sensing his gaze, Adeline turned to him and raised her eyebrows. He shook his head in response and she smiled.
But even as he stood by her side, a part of him couldn’t shake the image of Benedict’s retreating figure.
"Why couldn’t he go to her?" Cassian wondered, the question lingering in his mind. Again, did he really care? No, he did not. His focus was on her, simply her, as it always was.
Adeline remained in the grand hall, standing amidst the thinning crowd of nobles. Her father’s entourage lingered nearby, and Cassian stood at her side like a silent sentinel.
The tension in the air began to dissipate, replaced by a soft murmur of approval. The nobles, though wary of approaching her directly, whispered to one another, exchanging glances filled with a mix of curiosity and admiration.
"Such bravery for soone so young," a baroness murmured to her companion.
"A true Kendrick," her companion replied, nodding sagely.
Adeline, however, barely registered their words. Her focus remained on keeping her composure. She knew that any sign of weakness now would undo everything she had worked for. Her gaze flicked to Cassian, who offered her an almost imperceptible nod, his way of telling her he was there if she needed him.
Alaric stood a few steps behind her, watching his sister closely. His heart swelled with pride. She had faced the situation head-on, refusing to falter even with so many eyes on her.
"She did well," one of the older nobles whispered to him.
"She did," Alaric replied quietly, his voice steady but carrying a hint of satisfaction. "She’s a Kendrick, after all."
Alaric’s mind wandered briefly to their childhood. Adeline had always been strong-willed, but this was different. This was not the defiance of a child insisting on her way but the poise of a woman stepping into her own. He resolved to stay close, ready to support her if the weight of the mont beca too much.
The Northern Duke’s Indifference
Across the hall, the Northern Duke seized the opportunity to conduct business. Dressed in mourning black, he moved through the gathered nobles with a practised ease that belied the solemn occasion. He offered condolences with one breath and discussed estate matters with the next, his deanour cold and pragmatic.
Benedict watched from the shadows, his jaw clenched. The sight of his father so unaffected by his mother’s death was a wound that cut deeper with every passing mont.
"He’s not mourning her," Benedict muttered under his breath, his voice bitter.
The servants had told him how Anna had taken over his mother’s chambers, but seeing his father here, acting as though nothing had happened, made it unbearable.
"I will rember this," Benedict thought to himself, his fists tightening at his sides. "Every word, every action. I will never forget."
Benedict’s eyes drifted to Adeline. She stood in the centre of the room, poised and radiant despite the heavy atmosphere. The sight of her brought a strange mixture of comfort and despair.
He wanted to approach her, to tell her everything that was weighing on him. She would understand—she always did. But sothing held him back.
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