Chapter 1030: Outrage
Chapter 1028 of "Primordial Villain With A Slave Harem" starts unfolding: "Lord Black, my husband and I wish to apologize to you and your family with... Discover more!
"Lord Black, my husband and I wish to apologize to you and your family with a thousand gold coins-" the countessâ words were interrupted.
"I will torture and murder all three of your defects, Countess."
"H-huh?" The countess looked like she wanted to jump out of her skin out of pure shock.
But soon, her shocked expression paled. The implications of his outrageous statement were dawning on the woman.
Her cheeks flushed crimson in the next moment, and her gloved hands trembled at her side.
But it wasnât fear that seized her. It was cold, aristocratic fury.
"Torture and murder...?" she spat with such outrage that some saliva flew out of her mouth. Her voice rose with every word. "Youâre a brute, thatâs expected. But to call my sons, my very blood, defects?! How dare you? Do you think yourself above us when you crawl through the mud with your kennel of beasts?"
Every syllable was poison. Every glare a dagger.
It was Count Vexmore who slowly stepped forward, lifting a hand to calm her. His face was pale, but composed in the way only those born and raised in courts could manage.
"This makes no sense," he declared, eyes narrowing as he turned toward Quinlan. "You, Lord Black, are the patriarch of your household, whatever its name may be... You are not a servant or child. Why would you demand to fight my sons? Should you not challenge me instead?"
Murmurs of agreement rippled through the crowd.
But instead of feeling pressured, Felicity smiled. The kind of smile that said she does not wish you a long and peaceful life.
"So youâre saying you wish to take their place?"
The count nodded. "Itâs only fair."
Quinlan stared at him in silence for a beat. "Did you instruct them to do what they did? Or was it their decision?"
The countâs mouth opened. Closed. A drop of sweat rolled down his temple.
Everyone knew what that question meant.
If he claimed ignorance, then this bloodthirsty noble wouldnât want to fight him instead of his sons. But if he took responsibility, saying his sons were acting under his direct orders, then it wasnât his sons who disgraced the royal celebration by attacking the kingâs guests.
It was him.
A noble.
A patriarch.
And the consequences of that would echo far beyond the ballroom.
Count Vexmoreâs jaw tightened.
"It was their decision..." he finally muttered through his teeth.
Gasps shot through the ballroom.
"What?" hissed the eldest son, Daron, with disbelief at what he was hearing.
"Youâre throwing us away?" said the second, Veyne, stunned.
"But Father!" the youngest, Teral, looked between his parents in disbelief. "You said youâd-!" He was still on the ground, lying in his own piss as he stuttered the words out.
The countess said nothing in response. Her silence was icy.
But it was Felicity who stepped forward with a deceptively innocent smile.
"Arenât your sons grown men now?" she asked sweetly, tilting her head as if she were greatly confused. "Daron, who managed House Vexmoreâs finances for the past century, was already prepared to take over any day now. Veyne, who has been leading Vexmore soldiers for many decades now. And Teral, oh Teral, wasnât it you who claimed you were âtoo old for lectures and could easily take over your older brothersâ positions if only you were given a chanceâ the last time you spoke with me?"
The three sons stiffened. Daron and Veyne looked at Teral in sync, but the youngest son didnât manage to meet anyoneâs gaze. Instead, he was pretending to be unable to pay attention due to the extreme pain in his ruined arms.
"Theyâre hundreds of years old," Felicity continued, not caring for their thoughts. "Fully matured nobles of Vexmore blood, tasked with representing your house in the presence of the royal court... and yet, when the time comes to take responsibility, they need their father to shield them? Their mother wants to pay off their mistakes, and their father is willing to fight in their stead?"
She smiled wider and took multiple steps to enter the countâs space. She mightâve been a lot smaller, but in that moment, it felt as if she towered over the noble. With both hands firmly planted on her hips and her neck tilted back so she could stare deep into his soul, she asked,
"Tell me, are the sons of Vexmore truly so cowardly? I thought Lord Black spoke very rudely when he called them defects, but maybe he was just more observant than I?"
A hush fell. Many coughed from pure shock. The jewel of the kingdom, the innocent and dreamy girl, Felicity Valorian, had a very different air about her than ever before.
The girlâs hands moved from her hips to meet in front of her chest, where she clasped them together.
"Iâm genuinely worried about the next generation of the old and regal Vexmore family..."
A short laugh escaped from the dais.
It was Calienne, the First Princess, watching her younger sister with thinly veiled amusement. For once, Felicity wasnât playing the soft-spoken, smiling figure in the background who was only there to look pretty in her bubbly dresses. This time, she was in the center of attention, and her sassy, authoritative persona felt a lot more natural to the elder sister.
She was enjoying every second of this.
Felicity didnât stop there.
The purple-haired teen turned her gaze back to Count Vexmore. Her smile now became razor-sharp.
"But perhaps Iâm being unfair," she said lightly. "Maybe itâs not cowardice."
"Maybe theyâre simply... weak."
The word echoed like a slap.
She gestured toward Quinlan, the tall, dark figure standing alone in the center of the ballroom.
"Itâs three against one. All the advantage lies with them. Numbers, strength, reputation. And yet..." Her brows lifted, voice dropping ever so slightly, "They hide under their motherâs skirt and behind their fatherâs back... Why would they do that if not to hide the truth from getting out? Theyâre weaklings."
She placed her gloved hand to her lips and slyly chuckled. "It makes so much sense now! If this information got out, youâd have many enemies vying to take from you once they take over."
"No, thatâs not true at all!" Vexmore declared. He simply couldnât stand for this outrageous claim.
She tilted her head again, looking genuinely puzzled. "Are the sons of Vexmore truly so fragile that they canât handle a single opponent?"
A murmur rippled through the crowd.
And Felicity delivered the final twist of the knife.
"Perhaps your goal has been all this time to pit your sons against Lord Blackâs single child? You could say you came out victorious..."
All eyes turned toward Feng.
She stood quietly near the edge of the confrontation now, moving from Quinlan because she was secretly signaled by Felicity to do so.
The oriental teen was framed by marble pillars and draped in velvet, looking like some doll forgotten in the corner of a painting. Her long black hair hung down her back in soft waves, and her delicate hands were folded just below her stomach. Her posture shrank as soon as Felicity said her piece.
Fengâs eyes lowered, and her stance became timid, vulnerable.
Nobles whispered among one another. Many frowned. Even those loyal to House Vexmore shifted uncomfortably.