Chapter 3

I was no longer able to suppress my anger.

“My reputation will be ruined?” I chuckled. It was strangely loud in the silent carriage. “Griffin, you think far too highly of yourself. My reputation is none of your concern. You’re a coward who hides behind a woman.”

Griffin’s expression darkened drastically. He was instantly enraged.

“What did you just call me?”

As a celebrated warrior, he was being publicly called a coward by his betrothed. That hurt him even more than death itself.

“Griffin, please don’t be angry...”

Without me noticing, Joan had already approached us. She stumbled before throwing herself into Griffin’s arms. She held the infant in one hand and held onto his sleeve with the other.

“Her Grace was just angry. She didn’t mean it. It’s all my fault! I’ll leave right away. I won’t make things hard for you, Griffin.”

Even though she said she would leave, her feet remained rooted in place. Her tearful eyes were filled with both grievance and reluctance.

As expected, the moment Griffin saw how pitiful she looked, he flew into a blind rage.

“Isolde, don’t push your luck!”

He did not even bother calling me by my honorific title anymore. He called me by my name directly.

“For me to marry you is more honor than you deserve. Do you really think that you’re still that little princess the late king coddled? The new king has taken the throne. You’re nothing but an orphan, just the ghost of a dead reign. You have a title and nothing more.”

Everyone present gasped and fell into dead silence. No one had expected Griffin to speak the unsaid truth so publicly. Wilma, standing nearby, did not stop him. Instead, she revealed a satisfied, cold smile.

Clearly, she was also thinking the same thing.

To them, I had lost my patron and my power. I could only let the Quenell family do whatever they wanted with me.

“Griffin is right,” said Wilma.

She struck the ground with her cane again and continued smugly, “Your Grace, I advise you to see things as they are. Once you’re part of the Quenell family, you’ll have to obey my household’s rules. As for Joan, you will accept her whether you want to or not.”

The moment she said that, the Quenell household guards took a synchronized step forward. The scrape of steel leaving scabbards cut sharply through the air. Those several hundred soldiers in heavy armor surrounded my carriage.

It was clear that I could not leave unless I agreed to the marriage.

The scar-faced lieutenant and the other soldiers that Griffin led fixed the coachman with a menacing glare.

Nothing but a slight move from the coachman would trigger their swords.

“Your Grace, please step down from the carriage.”

Griffin smoothed his wedding tunic that Joan had wrinkled and stood tall again in his lofty, condescending posture.

“It’s getting late. Don’t keep the guests waiting.”

The atmosphere was heavy with pressure. The household guards of the Quenell family completely blocked my path. The coachman trembled with fear. He gripped his whip tightly in his hands. He did not even dare to breathe loudly.

This was Cathor’s great noble house. This was the so-called worthy man whom my late father, the king, had chosen after seeing a thousand potential grooms for me.

I looked at those bright, gleaming blades outside the carriage window.

It was an absurd scene.

“Griffin,” I said in a clear and calm voice, “Do you truly believe that a few hundred household guards can hold me prisoner?”

Griffin frowned. He seemed annoyed that I still spoke boldly, given my dire situation.

“Your Grace, I am doing this for your own good.”

He sighed and pretended to be reasonable.