Early that morning in the Northern Hall, echoes of the previous night's gathering still lingered in Celisitne's thoughts. She kept turning over events in the Eastern Empire—the dispute over the Gaspare lands and all that had unfolded. She felt relieved she had sent Barron to guard Rehena through that dangerous journey, yet she also wondered what more lay ahead. The trip alone was no simple undertaking, but what truly struck her was the cruel way the King's knights had acted; it was absurd, almost impossible to believe the Eastern ruler could behave so unjustly. And there was another surprise: Max, once thought of as the Roselia s family's illegitimate son, was in fact the king's true heir.
"There is far more to this than I imagined," Celisitne thought to herself, then made her way to the meeting hall where everyone had already gathered. She had much to resolve—not least the succession of the Duchy of Boulevard, and the work of Rowena's people, who were helping develop better medicines in preparation for the coming war.
When she took her place, the others fell silent. The King was absent, attending to urgent business elsewhere, so Celisitne would preside in his stead.
"Let us begin our discussions," she said clearly. "First, Mandawe—how have our harvests fared lately?" Mandawe opened his ledger and ran a finger down the pages, checking each entry carefully.
"All crops and stores are holding well, Your Grace. The death of Duke Johannes has not disrupted our farming or supplies in any way," he replied.
Celisitne nodded slowly, but then her eyes widened in surprise. Barron stepped into the room, dressed in a crisp military uniform, his silver hair and pale eyes commanding attention. Beside him walked Grace. She wore a dusty mauve gown of fine tulle, with a square neckline, wide bell sleeves, and rich gold embroidery running from her bodice to the hem, fastened at the waist with an ornate gold belt. Her dark hair was twisted into soft braids framing her face, gathered into a low loose bun, adorned with a small white flower clip and a strand of pearls resting gently at her throat. She presented herself as the only daughter of Duke Johannes, who had fallen in an ambush by Western Empire forces. Barron guided her to a seat, then stood beside her, acting as her sworn knight.
"Grace," Celisitne said with a warm smile. "I am glad you have come."
"Thank you, Your Grace," Grace answered, managing only a faint smile. Inside, her heart raced; she feared all her father had built might slip through her fingers.
"Let us turn first to the matter of the Duchy of Boulevard," Celisitne began gently. "It lies within the Northern Kingdom's territory, yet Duke Johannes left only you as his child. Under noble law, there must be a clear heir."
"Does your father have any living relatives you know of?" Mandawe asked.
Grace shifted uncomfortably, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. "As far as I am aware, my father grew up in an orphanage. He rose through the ranks to become one of King Henry's most trusted knights. My mother was often unwell and could bear no more children; after she passed, he never remarried." Her voice shook slightly as she spoke.
"If we cannot trace his background, perhaps we should wait for the King's return—he knew the Duke better than anyone," Mandawe suggested, adjusting his glasses. Though he managed the kingdom's treasury, he was also second in the council and one of Celisitne's most trusted advisors.
Before they could continue, a messenger hurried in, bowing low.
"Your Highness, my lords—pardon the interruption."
Celisitne waved a hand to let him speak.
"A man has arrived, claiming to be Duke Johannes's brother." A hush fell over the room. Grace froze, her eyes wide with disbelief.
Celisitne glanced at her, seeing the shock written across her face.
"Send him in," Celisitne commanded.
Moments later, an older man entered. He was around sixty years of age, with grey hair, sharp green eyes, and fair skin. He wore a high-collared brown shirt with ruffled cuffs, an embroidered waistcoat edged in gold, and a brooch set with a green gem at his neck. His trousers were well-tailored, and he carried himself with quiet dignity—so much so that Grace could not help but wonder if he truly did share her father's blood.
"Greetings, Your Highness, my lords, my lady," he bowed deeply. "I am Junaid Revera Druso, Johannes's elder brother." His voice was heavy with sorrow, as if he already knew his sibling was gone. Grace's fingers curled into fists beneath the table, torn between anger and doubt. Barron leaned forward slightly, watching her with concern.
"Who sent you here? And what is your standing?" Celisitne asked, her tone steady but firm.
"I am the eldest son of the former Viscount Druso, long since fallen from grace. I came of my own accord, having searched for my brother who was born out of wedlock," Junaid explained.
"Watch your words!" Grace snapped, her teeth gritted. She stood abruptly, her voice rising. "Your Highness—how can we trust this man? Why does he appear only now, after my father is dead?"
"I understand your suspicion, but I have searched for many years. Only recently did I learn where he lived—and then… I heard the news."
"Grace, I know this is difficult," Celisitne said, trying to calm her. "But we cannot deny that family ties may yet exist."
"Your Highness, the Duchy Boulevard is our main source of grain and supplies. How do we know he is not sent by our enemies?" Grace argued.
Celisitne fell silent, thinking. It did seem strange—if they were brothers, why had they never met before? His arrival felt too timely.
"I know you doubt me," Junaid said, "but I have no ill intent. I grieve for my brother."
"Grief? This is absurd—he appears out of nowhere, and we are to believe him on rumour alone?" Grace shot back.
Other nobles began to speak up.
"~By law, if he is indeed the Duke's brother, he has the stronger claim,~" one said. "A woman cannot rule a duchy."
Grace turned pale, her chest tight.
Celisitne pressed her fingers to her temples, feeling the weight of the decision.
"Enough!" Celisitne raised her voice, silencing the room. Grace's heart sank—she feared the verdict was already made.
"Grace, I wish things were different, but the law is clear," Celisitne said gently.
"Yet I have fought beside my father, defended this kingdom! Why should I be barred simply because I am a woman?" Grace cried out.
"It is the old order," a council member replied coldly.
"Grace, please—trust me," Celisitne pleaded softly. "If this man is truly kin, we must abide by custom."
Grace sank back into her chair, shoulders slumping, her face etched with hurt. She wanted to fight, but knew how the world worked.
Celisitne sighed, then reached for the royal scroll. "Very well. I hereby name—"
"I hereby name Barron Hebrew as the new Duke of Boulevard!"
The words boomed through the hall. Everyone gasped, even Barron himself, who started coughing in surprise. The King had entered unnoticed and cut in, speaking with authority.
"Father—what is the meaning of this?" Celisitne stood, astonished.
The King walked slowly to the throne, and Celisitne bowed to let him sit. "Before he died, my dearest friend Johannes made me a promise to protect his daughter. He asked that I secure the future of his lands and I have decided Barron shall hold the title."
"On what grounds?" Junaid asked, frowning.
"Through marriage," Mandawe answered sharply.
"That is how Barron will become Duke." The King nodded, while Grace and Barron stared, utterly stunned. Barron, once a knight from the West, now to be given a duchy? It felt impossible.
"Your Majesty, there is no need—I am the rightful heir!" Junaid protested.
"Would you question the King's will?" Carlo snapped, stepping forward. Junaid fell silent, swallowing hard.
"It is time to reward Barron properly," the King continued. "He guarded Rehena, the future Queen, through great peril. Shall we give him anything less?"
Celisitne suddenly realised her mistake—she had nearly ignored Grace's own worth, almost handing over the duchy to a stranger. She felt a flush of shame.'
"Your Majesty… I am not worthy of such an honour," Barron said, still in shock.
The King turned to Grace, his gaze steady.
"Then I shall ask you, Grace. Do you agree?" Grace sit frozen, her heart hammering. All eyes turned to her, waiting for her reply.
The meeting drew to a close shortly after the King's unexpected arrival. Celisitne had already settled all outstanding matters, including the situation regarding Max. They agreed he would remain in the Northern Infirmary, where Rowena and everyone skilled in preparing herbal remedies would oversee his care. Barron also reported that they had recovered a strange black potion from a secret laboratory in the Eastern Empire; Rowena and her team were to study it thoroughly before war broke out.
Once the discussions finished, everyone returned to their duties. Barron and Grace walked slowly and quietly along the corridor, making their way to the courtyard where their carriage waited to take them to the Ducal Mansion.
"I still find it hard to believe," Barron began once they stepped outside. "I keep asking myself if I am truly worthy of this new position."
He helped Grace climb into the carriage, then settled in beside her. The afternoon sun was already beginning to lower as the Carriage set off.
"I would far rather see you as Duke than hand the title to a stranger claiming to be my father's brother," Grace replied, giving a small, dismissive roll of her eyes. As it stood, the man who called himself Junaid would stay at the Boulevard residence in the capital—he had no other home. He would remain under Grace's watch, while they quietly investigated whether his claim held any truth.
"Yet… is it right?" Barron asked, his voice edged with uncertainty. "For years I served Emperor Harold faithfully in the Western Empire. Then I turned against him and fled north. Do I truly deserve such an honour?"
Grace smiled gently, shifted closer to him, and took his hand in hers.
"Are you not pleased that we shall soon be wed?" she said softly.
Her words struck him deeply. He gazed into her bright green eyes, and a warm flush rose to his cheeks. All he had ever wanted was to stay by her side, forever bound and unbroken—and now fate had given him even more than he dared hope. Leaning in, they shared a tender kiss as the carriage rolled smoothly and peacefully toward their new home.