Reincarnate as the Villainess's Husband-Chapter 109: High Lords

"Duke Neonidas, do such sharp words not cast a shadow over the joy of your victory?"

The voice of Duchess Lyranna echoed through the courtyard, drawing a low grunt from Duke Draevos.

Updat𝒆d fr𝒐m freewebnσvel.cøm.

Neonidas turned toward the duchess with a faint smile on his lips. Her sharp wit and measured words had effortlessly neutralized Draevos’s unfinished move. Lyranna always moved like a shadow—she wielded words in battle rather than a sword.

"Duchess Lyranna," Neonidas said, adding a touch of politeness to his tone. "The joy of victory is only lasting if built upon a solid foundation. And foundations are sometimes reinforced with sharp words—other times, with steel."

For a brief moment, Lyranna’s eyes examined Neonidas before she dipped her head slightly. "Then, I hope you are certain that this foundation will keep you standing tomorrow, Duke Neonidas. After all, in the palace, it is not steel, but poisonous whispers that rule."

Neonidas caught the warning in her words. This was more than mere aristocratic decorum—it was a reminder. There were not only allies at this gathering, but also enemies.

At that moment, another carriage glided through the courtyard gates. But this time, the atmosphere grew noticeably heavier.

The guards stood taller, the nobles’ whispers ceased. For the man stepping out was none other than Duke Albrecht Von Rheingard, one of Empress Velriona’s greatest supporters.

As he descended from the carriage, his dark navy cloak, silver-embroidered armor, and chiseled features brought a weighty presence to the gathering. His expression held neither cold amusement nor warmth—only pure, calculated seriousness.

When Neonidas met Albrecht’s gaze, he could feel the strength and ironclad discipline that resided within the man. Albrecht was not one to throw out empty threats. He was Velriona’s shadow—the most loyal yet most dangerous man within the empire.

Duke Albrecht approached him with slow, deliberate steps. The surrounding nobles instinctively took a step back. Even Draevos quietly withdrew to observe. Albrecht stopped before Neonidas, locking eyes with him.

"Duke Neonidas," he said, his voice deep and unshaken. "It is undeniable that you have achieved great success at a young age. Congratulations on your victory. Your father would have been proud."

Neonidas carefully weighed his words. Velriona had likely spoken to this stern man, perhaps instructing him to maintain good relations. Despite the constant debate, it was widely accepted that the strongest duchy among the twelve belonged to this man. He was a key reason why Velriona was such a feared figure.

Why was he so loyal to Velriona? Some whispered of distant familial ties, others speculated about a hidden romance, but the truth was far simpler. They were childhood friends who had known each other for years. And, of course, Velriona’s only secret love had always been Neonidas.

Neonidas studied the unyielding look in Albrecht’s eyes. There was no overt challenge, nor was there open camaraderie. He was Velriona’s most faithful blade, and a blade did not move of its own will—it followed its master’s commands.

But Albrecht’s son next to him was glaring at Neonidas with a mixture of jealousy and hatred. He was probably angry that Allea, his childhood sweetheart, had chosen Neonidas over him.

A subtle smile tugged at Neonidas’s lips. Of course, Neonidas did not care about his son and his petty feelings in the presence of Duke Albrecht. What he cared about was Duke Albrecht himself. Albrecht’s words were not merely a formality; they were also a test. In imperial politics, compliments could be as sharp as daggers.

"Duke Albrecht," Neonidas replied, his voice laced with confidence. "To receive such praise from you is an honor. However, I cannot say whether my father would have been proud. After all, while he was alive, he never looked kindly upon my attempts to step out of his shadow."

A faint glint flickered in Albrecht’s eyes—not mocking, not hostile, just the careful observation of a strategist studying a chess piece.

"A bitter truth," Albrecht mused, tilting his head slightly. "But sometimes, shadows help us better define the light."

Neonidas did not miss the underlying meaning. Albrecht wanted to see how he would position himself in Velriona’s eyes. Was he merely a warrior, or was he someone capable of playing a lasting role in the empire’s intricate political game?

With a slight tilt of his head, Neonidas responded, "Some shadows exist only to consume the light." He paused before adding, "And some lights continue to shine even within the darkness."

Albrecht remained silent for a moment, then gave a slight nod before leaning in to whisper, "Now I understand why Velriona watches you so closely, boy."

Was this an acceptance? Or merely the prelude to another move?

"Shall we proceed inside, esteemed lords?" Explore more at novelbuddy

At Princess Allea’s words, the empire’s dukes gave slight nods and slowly made their way into the palace. Lingering outside any longer would have been seen as discourteous.

As their steps echoed through the palace’s grand marble columns, they advanced toward the great hall—a space where political intrigues wove together in silence.

Under Princess Allea’s lead, the empire’s most powerful lords passed through gilded doors, entering a hall adorned with dazzling chandeliers, velvet seats, and ornate carpets. But the true rulers of this space were not the furniture’s elegance but the sharpness of ambitions and calculations.

One by one, the other nobles of the empire arrived, along with those who were to be officially recognized as nobility today. After all, this was a significant occasion—the announcement of a new duchy after a long period.

Following Neonidas and Allea’s conquest of the Kingdom of Hindonpon, many were eager to see who would govern the vast new lands. Neonidas had already granted temporary authority to select nobles, and most likely, the emperor would formally confirm their titles today.

But the real question was—who would become the new duke of the empire’s 13th Duchy?

Only the emperor could make that decision. Before the official ceremony, however, the newly arrived guests had to be introduced to the palace, assigned accommodations, and every detail had to be flawlessly arranged before they stood in the emperor’s presence.

The palace stewards and servants moved like a perfectly orchestrated symphony, ensuring that no detail was overlooked. Yet, beneath this ceremonial grandeur, one thought lingered in everyone’s mind—including Allea’s.

Who would be named the new duke?

As they moved toward the center of the grand hall, Neonidas could feel the gazes upon him. Some were filled with hostility, others with cautious curiosity. His rise had unsettled those loyal to the old order. Neonidas was becoming a significant figure, not only on the battlefield but also within the palace’s web of intrigue.

Duchess Lyranna gracefully adjusted her gown before leaning in slightly. "All these stares… I can’t tell if they’re admiration or apprehension toward you," she murmured.

Neonidas lowered his head slightly to meet her gaze. "Most people prefer to seek warmth in the ashes of the old order rather than welcome the dawn of a new one."

Lyranna tilted her head with the faintest hint of a smile. "And you—have you come to change their habits?"

Neonidas did not answer immediately. Instead, he observed the golden light from the grand chandelier reflecting upon the gathering below. The nobles’ garments shimmered under the glow, yet the shadows on their faces remained. Each of them stood like chess pieces, awaiting the decree that would shape their fates.

A slow smile spread across Neonidas’s lips. "I merely read the history written by the victor’s hand, Duchess," he said, his voice laced with amusement. "But sometimes, even a reader can choose to alter the story."

Lyranna let her gaze linger on Neonidas for a moment before letting out a faint chuckle. "Then, I hope your story does not end in tragedy, Duke Neonidas. But if such a fate befalls you, do not forget that I will be there to help."

Just as Neonidas was about to respond, Lyranna stepped back and took her place beside Allea.

When the heavy doors of the grand hall opened once more to welcome new guests, the murmurs in the room momentarily ceased. The grand chamberlain stepped forward with a noble and dignified stance, tapping his gold-embroidered staff lightly against the marble floor.

"In the name of His Majesty the Emperor, I greet all nobles and guests. Please take your seats."

With this announcement, the order settled over the hall. As everyone moved to their designated places according to their status, the chamberlains guided the guests. Those of the highest rank took positions closest to the elevated platform where the throne stood. Bearing the weight of their victory in the capital, Neonidas and Allea made their way to the front rows reserved for them. Lyranna, meanwhile, withdrew from a spot that allowed her the best vantage point of observation.

The light streaming from the palace’s grand chandelier reflected off the marble floor as the music began. This marked the first official step of the ceremony: the Welcoming and Proclamation Ceremony. According to imperial tradition, the newcomers had to introduce themselves and offer a greeting befitting their noble lineage.

First, the most powerful dukes were announced one by one. Duke Albrecht von Rheingard stepped forward with measured steps, lowered one knee to the ground, and bowed his head in a traditional salute.

"My loyalty to the Empire and His Majesty is unwavering."

The words that echoed through the hall were not merely a pledge of allegiance—they were also a statement. Albrecht’s presence here could either bolster or hinder Neonidas’s influence.

One by one, each duke followed, stepping forward to renew their oaths of loyalty. Emperor Gredor, seated upon his throne, accepted each vow. Beside him, Velriona sat silently, exuding a formidable presence.

As Neonidas carefully observed their movements, he felt his own turn approaching. Within minutes, the chamberlain’s voice rang out, announcing his name:

"Duke Neonidas, Conqueror of Hindonpon, the Empire’s Blade of Light!"

A moment of silence swept through the hall. This title was not merely a recognition of his battlefield triumphs—it was also a testament to his growing political influence. With deliberate steps, he advanced, halted, and lowered himself onto one knee, bowing his head slightly.

"Every victory we claim for the Empire makes our dynasty’s light shine even brighter. I will guard this light from the shadows that seek to consume it."

His words were both a vow of loyalty and a challenge for some.

Once the oaths of loyalty were complete, the chamberlain spoke again.

"Your Majesty, before the proclamation of the new duchy, the nobles and high lords newly joining the Empire shall be presented."