Chapter 125 Royal Vows and Public Scandal
The king, seated upon his golden throne, looked as though he was about to have a heart attack twice, this time because of Claus. His mouth hung open. His eyes were wide as he stared at Claus, as if he no longer recognized his own son.
Never in history had Claus, his son, the expressionless killing machine whose life revolved solely around war strategy, ever come to his father's birthday party to ask for marriage.
"You... what?!" The King's voice caught in his throat. He coughed a little, trying to cover his awkwardness in front of the hundreds of nobles watching. "Claus, don't joke. We'll discuss this later!"
Claus did not smile. His stoic face grew even harder. "I'm not joking, Father," he replied coldly, firmly, without a hint of doubt.
"And you must remember, during the peace treaty at the northern border five years ago, you swore before the kings of all nations to grant any request I might make."
Checkmate. The King fell silent. A king's oath could not be broken. And now, all the dignitaries were whispering beneath the stage.
On the left, in the seat of honor, Duchess Viviane d'Alecon, Claus's mother, looked absolutely pale. The middle-aged woman clutched her chest, struggling to breathe, staring at her son in horror. The Empress looked astonished, both hands covering her mouth, but a faint smile appeared behind them.
In the front row, Lysandra stood with a bitter face. The teacup that had fallen and shattered was completely forgotten. Her face flushed red, veins bulging in her neck as she tried to hold back an explosive rage.
She glared at me with deep hatred. She could not accept it. In her mind, that position should have been hers.
Not far away, Prince Kurt actually grinned. The foreign prince raised what was left of his wine glass toward Claus, clearly delighted by this high-level political chaos. For Kurt, this imperial drama was more entertaining than any circus on earth.
But what truly caught my attention was Prince Didier's reaction.
The crown prince stood gaping, his mouth moving soundlessly as he watched his older brother seize a political position in such a brash way. But a moment later, Didier's gaze shifted.
His eyes turned to the corner of the room, where Gisella and Julian stood. Gisella was covering her mouth, smiling in surprise, while Julian casually wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her closer. They looked happy. Perfect. At ease.
Didier watched their intimacy with envy. Gisella used to follow him everywhere, showering him with praise and sincere attention, attention he wasted. Now, his ex had found a man who truly cherished her, while Didier himself was stuck with a mentally unstable and increasingly cold Lysandra.
At last, the King took a deep breath. He gave in. He had no choice but to honor his public vow.
With a heavy, resolute voice, the King rose from his throne.
He struck his golden staff against the floor, silencing the entire hall.
"Hear me!" The King's voice echoed across the room.
"In recognition of the general's great service to the empire, tonight, on my birthday celebration, I make this official announcement."
My heart felt like it might leap from my chest. I closed my eyes for a moment, bracing myself for the final verdict.
"My Son, Claus Valerius Maximilian d'Alecon is hereby officially engaged to Miss Ilse de Varannes!"
Boom! The entire hall erupted. Shouts of shock, the clatter of falling plates, and gasps of disbelief all mingled together.
I could only stand beside Claus, resigned to the reality that my life had truly become part of this insane novel.