Chapter 37: The Black Iceberg
A handsome man with an atmosphere as cold, hard, and heavy as a blackened iceberg.
Everyone recognized him and gasped.
“D-Duke Rynen Ortega?!”
“Why is the Duke here…?!”
Rynen silently took his place beside Calyphe under the crowd’s astonished stares.
He rested a hand on the back of her chair, his posture almost encircling her shoulders.
The retainers’ eyes bulged at this blatant display.
Rynen finally spoke.
“I apologize for arriving unannounced at the Ofensa family’s grand council. As someone betrothed to Calyphe, I could no longer remain idle.”
“W-what did you say?!”
“Is this truly so shocking?”
Calyphe slid an arm around Rynen’s waist.
He stiffened like stone, his downward glance at her sharp enough to draw blood.
Let go.
Can’t.
The corner of Calyphe’s eye twitched as she maintained her radiant smile for the crowd.
Pretending to adjust his collar, she hissed,
“Relax. Have you forgotten the three rules for convincing lovers?”
“Smile. Worry. Cheer.”
“Good. Now perform.”
“…But where’s the line? How far should secret lovers go to seem natural?”
Calyphe shared his uncertainty.
“If unsure, exaggerate. Half-measures breed suspicion—go all out!”
“…I’ll try.”
Rynen turned to the retainers, still pressed close.
“Allow me to reintroduce myself. Rynen Ortega, head of House Ortega. I am courting Calyphe with intent to marry.”
“Y-you’re truly… lovers? You came here to wed our lady?”
“Correct.”
Sniffles rose from retainers who’d earlier glared daggers at Calyphe.
“Our humble lady with such an esteemed… Ahem!”
“Your legs must tire, Duke! Please sit—yes, beside our lady!”
Their about-face is absurd.
Sycophants.
Or loyalists?
Either way, their sudden support strengthened Calyphe’s position.
Now seated, Rynen addressed the council as naturally as any member.
“I’ve heard of Ofensa’s decision to politically wed Calyphe to Baron Lorton.”
“A misunderstanding!” Loyalists lunged to deny.
“No seal has been stamped! Nothing’s decided!”
“Marriage prospects change like the tides! We awaited someone worthy like the Duke!”
“Moreover, our lady explicitly refused Baron Lorton!”
Retainers aligned with Kaiman stepped forward, disgusted.
“Ahem! How strange. Lady Calyphe once loathed him—now suddenly lovers?”
“My thoughts exactly!”
“Realistically—what does the Duke gain from this?”
“You call yourself an Ofensa retainer?!”
The hall erupted as loyalists and sycophants clashed. The chairman’s pleas drowned in the chaos.
“Order! Order!”
Silence fell only when Kaiman approached. The air still deemed him heir apparent as he smiled at Calyphe like a doting uncle humoring a child.
“This is… sudden. Frankly unbelievable.”
“…….”
“Did you coerce the Duke to escape Baron Lorton? Offer Ofensa wealth? Magic from our tower?”
Even loyalists flinched, recalling Calyphe’s past desperation to win Rynen—including promises of magical support that left lasting shame.
As the room tensed, Viscount Gallard’s sneer cut through.
“Who’d refuse Ofensa’s support paired with her beauty? Eh, Duke?”
“V-Viscount Gallard!”
Loyalists paled, but this was Ofensa’s council chamber—Rynen remained an uninvited guest. Emboldened, Gallard continued.
“Our ‘heir’ lacks real power, but her looks? Unmatched. What healthy man could resist?”
“You…!”
“This farce proves she’s using her charms! Even the Duke’s being fooled!”
He pointed directly at Calyphe.
“Have dignity, Lady! Only snakes deceive like this!”
Calyphe’s crimson eyes burned. Every throat gulped air.
That face—three seconds till explosion.
Her tantrums always left Ofensa’s reputation in tatters. Loyalists bowed their heads, bracing for impact.
True to form, Calyphe smirked.
“Ugly faces always squawk loudest.”
“Mock me, but facts remain!”
“Well said.”
Her hand rose high—everyone recognized the slap coming. But—
Thwack!
Her palm struck the table by Gallard’s head. Her voice dropped to glacial depths.
“Viscount. With one breath, you insulted three.”
“W-what…?”
Loyalists looked up, sensing change. Calyphe loomed over the viscount like a storm.
“First: House Ortega. By calling their lord—guardian of the Black Mist Forest, wielder of the Noble Sword—a lust-driven fool, you warrant a duel here and now.”
“B-but this is Ofensa territory!”
“Second.” Her eyes glowed hellfire red. “You shamed Ofensa itself.”
“When?!”
“We’re imperial loyalists upholding balance. Yet harboring biased potatoes like you? Disgraceful.”
“Nonsense!”
“Third—” Her fan cracked across his cheek. “—you humiliated every loyal retainer here.”
No one called it a tantrum now—this was a leader’s righteous fury.
“After my decades of service…!” Gallard whirled toward Kaiman.
Calyphe scoffed.
“Why look there? See a rat king?”
Kaiman’s smile froze. He stayed silent, sensing the shifting room.
Remarkable. Her anger wasn’t selfish—she protected the house.
Has she changed?
Retainers’ amazed thoughts hung palpable until—
Smack!
Calyphe kicked Gallard’s shin.
“Still glaring? Words don’t work?”
“A woman’s violence—ugh! She kicked me!”
There it was. Her infamous temper.
Though satisfying, someone needed to stop her before the council dissolved. But Kaiman looked away, and the chairman mumbled, “P-please, no violence…”
Someone intervene!
As fists flew, a large hand caught Calyphe’s wrist.
“Enough.”
Rynen’s voice brooked no argument.
