[House Eisenhart—Guest Hall—Night]
The room had gone silent, not peaceful silent, not comfortable silent; it was the kind of silence where everyone was waiting for someone to say something stupid...and unfortunately, I had a very strong feeling that person was going to be me.
Baron Aldric Eisenhart stood before us with his hands folded behind his back, wearing a smile that was far too confident for a man whose buttons were currently fighting for their lives.
His polished bald head reflected the chandelier above him, and I tried not to stare, but I failed.
SHINEEE!!
I blinked.
SHINEEE!!
I blinked again.
"..."
Why was his forehead brighter than the chandelier? I quickly looked away. Professional.
I had to behave like a grand duchess, a dignified noblewoman, elegant, graceful, mature, and definitely not someone comparing another man’s forehead to a solar panel.
Cassian was completely unaffected; he placed his teacup down with a soft clink. "Baron Eisenhart."
The Baron simply stood there, straight, hands folded behind his back and a proud smile resting on his face. No bow, no lowered head, not even the slightest gesture of respect.
. . .
WHAT THE HELL?
I glanced at Cassian, then at Baron Eisenhart.
Wasn’t he a baron? And wasn’t Cassian... the Grand Duke of the Empire? Even if we ignored titles, Cassian was practically the Empire’s walking nightmare. Yet this man was standing in front of him like he was greeting a neighbour who had come to borrow sugar.
And that smile wasn’t confidence; that was arrogance wearing expensive clothes.
He probably thought, "The Grand Duke needs something from me. Therefore, I have the advantage."
Oh, Baron, you poor, shiny-headed man. You have made a terrible business decision. I quietly lowered my teacup because there was something else the Baron seemed to have forgotten.
Why Cassian Ashcroft was called the Grim Grand Duke.
Cassian didn’t move, he didn’t raise his voice, and he didn’t even look angry. He simply stared at the Baron, and several seconds passed.
Then—
"Baron." His voice was quiet, too quiet. "I believe you have forgotten something."
The Baron’s smile remained. "My apologies, Your Grace. What might that be?"
Oh ho, that audacity.
Cassian leaned back slightly; his ocean-blue eyes became colder. "The difference between your position...and mine."
The atmosphere changed.
Instantly.
The servants standing along the walls lowered their heads. Even Cedric’s posture became straighter, and Cassian continued.
"You are a Baron. I am the Grand Duke of Ashcroft, and when the Grand Duke of the Empire addresses you..." His fingers tapped once against the armrest.
"...you bow."
The Baron’s smile twitched, just slightly. "I meant no disrespect, Your Grace."
Cassian’s expression remained emotionless. "Then demonstrate it."
. . .
. . .
The Baron didn’t move.
For several seconds, neither man said anything; the silence became so heavy that I could practically hear my own heartbeat. I slowly leaned back in my chair.
Oh, this wasn’t a negotiation anymore; this was a power demonstration.
Cassian wasn’t asking for Heat Mana Stones; he was reminding the Baron exactly where he stood. The Baron finally gave a strained chuckle.
"Your Grace, surely there is no need to make such a small matter—"
CRACK.
Cassian’s hand closed around the armrest; the wood groaned beneath his fingers.
My eyes widened.
. . .
Oh, that poor armrest didn’t deserve that.
"Looks like the Baron forgot his etiquette. You are standing in my presence without offering the respect owed to my title, and now you tell me that it is a small matter?"
The Baron’s face stiffened. Cassian’s gaze dropped briefly toward him. "I came to your house as a guest; do not mistake that courtesy for weakness."
. . .
. . .
My soul needed an urgent popcron and coke in this 3D drama.
Cassian is the man who could probably turn a polite tea invitation into an international incident.
The Baron swallowed, then lowered himself into a deep bow. "Forgive my insolence, Your Grace. I have forgotten my place."
Cassian stared down at him for several seconds, and somehow...the baron was a step away from his execution.
The Baron remained bowed as Cassian continued, "I shall forgive you. People tend to forget their place once in a while."
Baron smiled and took his seat, saying, "It’s an honour with presence, Grand Duke. May I know the reason for you to be here?"
Cassian’s expression didn’t change. "We require Heat Mana Stones. House Eisenhart controls one of the largest Heat Mana Stone mines in the northern region."
"Indeed."
"And Ashcroft requires enough to sustain the territory through the coming winter."
"Naturally."
. . .
. . .
I stared at the two men.
Was this a negotiation? Or were they competing to see who could use the fewest words? Cassian’s fingers rested against the armrest.
"Then we shall discuss the price."
Baron Eisenhart’s smile widened as he leaned back, forgetting his place again. "That...may be difficult, Grand Duke."
My eyebrow twitched.
Here we go. The classic sentence. "That may be difficult." Translation: ’I’m about to charge you enough money to purchase the moon.’
Baron Eisenhart continued.
"Unfortunately, the Imperial Palace has already placed an order for the majority of this year’s production."
Cassian’s expression remained unchanged, but the room felt colder as Baron continued, "House Eisenhart has already received a most generous request from the Imperial Palace. As such, I fear the remaining reserves are already allocated."
He gave a small, almost pitying smile.
"Your Grace will understand."
. . .
. . .
I nearly burst out laughing. Understand? This bald man had the audacity to look at Cassian Ashcroft and say, ’Understand?’
I actually felt a tiny bit sorry for him, because Cassian has already been generous to him now, and still he again begins disrespecting him. Cedric, standing behind us, quietly lowered his gaze as if he had begun preparing a prayer for the soul of House Eisenhart.
Cassian finally moved; only slightly, he set down his teacup, and the sound was soft – barely anything.
"I see."
One simple, quiet word, but the air in the room changed. The Baron kept smiling, though now it had begun to look strained around the edges.
"Naturally, Your Grace would see the difficulty of our position—"
"No."
Cassian interrupted.
The Baron blinked. "...Pardon?"
Cassian looked at him with the patience of a man explaining a mistake to someone who had not yet realised he was already dead.
"I said... no."
The Baron stiffened. Cassian leaned back slightly in his chair; his voice remained level. "You have made a mistake, Baron Eisenhart."
A cold silence spread across the hall.
"A mistake, Your Grace?"
Cassian tilted his head.
"Yes. You are standing in front of House Ashcroft’s Grand Duke...and smiling as though you are the one dispensing mercy, looks like you did not learnt your lesson."
The Baron’s smile twitched. "I only meant to convey that the matter is regrettable—"
Cassian raised one hand; the Baron instantly stopped speaking because that tiny motion alone made the room feel smaller.
Cassian’s blue eyes drifted lazily across the man’s face.
"House Eisenhart controls the largest Heat Mana Stone mines in the Empire."
The Baron swallowed. "Yes, Your Grace..."
"Those mines supply the Imperial Palace."
"Yes..."
"The Temple."
"Yes..."
"And several noble houses that are too cowardly to speak honestly when winter arrives."
The Baron said nothing. Cassian continued as his voice remained mild. "Now tell me...what makes you believe House Ashcroft can be discarded last?"
The Baron opened his mouth and closed it again. I could practically see his mind scrambling. He had probably walked into this room thinking the Grand Duke would be polite.
He had probably expected negotiation. Maybe even a concession, but he had not expected this. He had not expected Cassian to speak like a man who had already decided the outcome before the conversation even began.
Cassian folded one leg over the other. "Your men are paid to mine. Your estate exists because the Empire permits it. Your mines operate because the land remains stable under Imperial law; do not confuse those facts with importance."
The Baron went stiff, and...that was the Grim Grand Duke. A man slicing a nobleman’s ego into neat, efficient pieces.
Cassian’s gaze sharpened. "You may continue pretending you are difficult to reach, and you may continue pretending the Palace makes you indispensable, but if House Ashcroft’s villages freeze because you chose to play politics with winter..."
He leaned forward slightly.
"...then I will personally ensure the Empire remembers why the North is feared."
The Baron finally lost his smile; his face had become the colour of badly steamed dumplings. "Your Grace..."
Cassian looked at him with complete indifference. "I am not here to beg. I am not here to be delayed by a baron who has mistaken a title for immunity."
Silence.
The Baron visibly swallowed. Cedric remained absolutely still behind us. I, meanwhile... I was staring at Cassian in complete awe.
Damn, that was my husband.
. . .
. . .
Did...did I say my husband?
. . .
. . .
While I was rethinking my thoughts, the Baron tried to recover one last time. "The Imperial Palace will not tolerate interference with its allocation—"
Cassian’s eyes lifted. "Then the Imperial Palace may learn to tolerate disappointment."
. . .
. . .
Ohhhhh~~~
I almost cheered.
The Baron froze; even I could tell that line had gone straight through whatever little noble spine he had left. Cassian stood, holding my hand, and somehow that was worse because now the entire room had to tilt its head upward to look at him.
The Baron instinctively took one half-step back.
"Baron Eisenhart."
"...Y-Yes, Your Grace?"
There it was, the first crack. Cassian looked down at him with the cold patience of winter itself.
"My wife does not enjoy wasting time."
The words were quiet, polite, and even. Which only made them more dangerous.
"If you intend to hide behind the Palace, say so clearly, and if you intend to insult my territory by making it beg in front of lesser men...say that clearly as well."
Silence.
Absolute silence.
The Baron stood frozen, whatever remained of his arrogance having apparently packed its bags and left the building. Cassian didn’t wait for an answer; he simply turned, as his long cloak swept behind him as he walked past the Baron as though the entire conversation had already ended.
"I will be waiting for your letter."
And that was it; he simply walked away holding my hand.
Well.
That was one hell of an exit.
I quietly followed beside him, head held high, hand in hand like two people who had just walked into someone’s house, threatened their political future, demanded their resources, and then casually left before dessert.
Honestly...We looked like royalty. Or criminals. Possibly both.
Behind us, Captain Cedric followed silently; his expression was completely professional.
The great doors of House Eisenhart opened before us, and cold night air rushed against my face. I stepped outside with Cassian still holding my hand, and as we descended the marble steps... I couldn’t help glancing back one last time.
Baron Eisenhart was still standing inside, stunned, silent and probably reconsidering every decision that had brought him to this moment.
The Grand Duke of Ashcroft had just walked into the house of the heroine’s father...threatened him...humiliated him...and walked out holding his wife’s hand like nothing happened.
I suppressed a grin.
"Wow."
Cassian glanced down at me. "What?"
"You’re really scary, Husband. I really like that."
His expression remained calm,, but I could see a small smirk on his lips.
Yep.
Definitely the Grim Grand Duke and somehow... I was starting to get very comfortable walking beside him.