Chapter 30
The tide in the Senate chamber turned abruptly due to Serena's precise counterattack. Osmond's uncle and his ilk had shot themselves in the foot, their credibility ruined, and their other objections rendered powerless. After Serena's side presented the old servant's testimony, physical evidence, and knowledge of family secrets, the scales of the Senate clearly tipped in their favor.
Finally, after several days of deliberation and examination, the Senate, based on the existing evidence and ancient laws, formally ruled to recognize Serena Wilde's identity as the rightful heir to the Wilde family, and that she would inherit the title, corresponding honors, and property.
On the day the verdict was announced, crowds once again gathered in front of the Duke of Wilde's mansion. But this time, it was not out of suspicion or prying eyes, but to witness a historic moment when an ancient family, under the leadership of its new masters, was about to embark on a new chapter.
Serena stood on the steps of the manor gate, dressed in a formal gown bearing the deep blue and silver coat of arms of the Wilder family. Sunlight bathed her, illuminating her once-glossy blonde hair, which was styled in an elegant updo, a few stray strands brushing against her calm and resolute face. She was no longer the disheveled fugitive, nor the maid in hiding; she was Duchess Serena Wilder, the rightful owner of this manor and the vast inheritance behind it.
She did not deliver a lengthy speech, but instead, in a clear and steady voice, announced to the assembled servants, some of the nobles who had come to witness the ceremony, and the people of the capital: "The Wilde family will continue to fulfill its responsibilities to the Empire and its ancestors. Everything in the mansion will remain the same. I hope that everyone will perform their duties and work together to overcome these difficult times."
Concise and powerful, it both declared sovereignty and stabilized the hearts of the people who were wavering due to the passing of the old master and the confirmation of the new master.
After the ceremony, Serena, accompanied by Mara, returned to the mansion. The heavy door to the study, which had once belonged to her father and now belonged to her, closed behind her, shutting out the noise of the outside world.
The room remained as it had been furnished by her father, filled with the scent of books and leather, but lacking his imposing presence. Serena walked to the massive oak desk, her fingertips tracing the smooth surface before finally settling on the heavy ducal ring engraved with the family crest.
She slowly picked up the ring, the cool metallic touch carrying a heavy sense of responsibility.
She did it.
She not only reclaimed her name and identity, but also stood in a position where she could engage in dialogue with Lucien on a certain degree of equality. A hereditary duke was no longer someone he could imprison and hunt down at will.
However, she knew perfectly well that this victory was only the beginning. Lucien's silence was like the calm before the storm, concealing unknown dangers. The imperial political situation was treacherous, and although the Wilder family still possessed its foundation, it had shown signs of decline under the new emperor's rule. How to survive in this complex vortex and even revive the family was a tremendous challenge facing her.
“Next,” Mara’s voice broke the silence, “we need to eliminate any potential spies within the palace, reorganize the accounts, and… prepare for any possible reaction from the palace.”
Serena slipped the signet ring onto her right index finger; it fit surprisingly well. She looked up, her gaze sharp: “First, stabilize the internal situation. Those cousins who have been most vocal should pay the price for their attempts to steal the family inheritance. Mara, gather evidence of their embezzlement and harm to the family’s interests.”
A cold smile curved her lips: "Then, we need to submit a formal letter of thanks to His Majesty the Emperor, thanking him for his 'fair' treatment of the Wilder family's succession."
A hint of approval flashed in Mara's eyes as she bowed and said, "Yes, Your Grace."
Serena turned and looked out the window at the vast yet oppressive sky of Rokonia. The ring on her hand felt heavy, just like her current mood.
After several days of renovations by Serena, the study in Duke Wilder's mansion had taken on a different feel. The old duke's old files had been categorized, some overly heavy furniture had been moved and replaced with lamps that provided better lighting, and the air was filled with the faint, fresh scent of freshly ground ink and dried flowers. It remained solemn, but now possessed a more efficient and vibrant feel, befitting its young owner.
However, this newly established order was disrupted by an unexpected yet logical piece of news.
A court attendant came in person to convey His Majesty the Emperor's decree: the Emperor would personally visit the Duke of Wilde's residence tomorrow afternoon to "congratulate" the Duchess on her formal succession and to hold "informal consultations" on imperial affairs.
Upon hearing the news, an atmosphere of mixed honor and extreme tension immediately filled the manor. The Emperor's personal presence was an immense honor, yet also incredibly unsettling. Especially considering the complex, untold past between the new Emperor and their own Duchess.
Mara's expression was extremely grave. She inspected every corner of the palace to ensure that security was foolproof, yet she knew perfectly well that these arrangements were meaningless in the face of absolute imperial power.
After hearing the report, Serena remained silent for a moment before calmly instructing the butler to prepare for the arrival of the emperor with the highest honors, her face showing no emotion. Only the slightly tightened fingers adorned with the ducal ring betrayed her inner turmoil.
What's meant to come will come.
The following afternoon, the autumn sunlight, though possessing a transparent quality, could not dispel the somber atmosphere surrounding Duke Wilder's mansion. The Imperial Guard silently sealed off the nearby streets, their black armor gleaming coldly in the sunlight.
Serena, dressed in a dark embroidered silver gown symbolizing her dukehood, her long hair styled in an elaborate and dignified updo, stood at the entrance to the main hall of the mansion, with Mara and the mansion's chief stewards standing behind her, heads bowed. Her back was ramrod straight, her face serene, only her deep blue eyes held a calm and vigilance born of hardship.
The sound of horses' hooves and wheels rolling on the stone pavement grew louder as they approached, finally stopping in front of the mansion gate. After a brief silence, the heavy gate was slowly pushed open.
First to enter were two rows of Imperial Guards, their eyes fixed straight ahead, their demeanor cold and aloof. Then, a figure walked with unhurried steps into the dimly lit main hall.
Lucien Augustus.
He was still dressed in a perfectly tailored dark casual suit, without many ornaments symbolizing imperial power. Only the dark metal and obsidian crown on his forehead exuded an unquestionable authority and coldness. The years had etched a deeper meaning onto him; his handsome features had become even more defined, and his deep purple eyes were like two bottomless, icy pools. With each sweep of his gaze, the air in the entire hall seemed to freeze.
His gaze swept over the bowed heads of the crowd and finally landed precisely and without deviation on Serena, who was standing at the very front.
In that instant, time seemed to stretch out infinitely.
He looked at her. No longer the spoiled or fearful girl of his memory, nor the blurry silhouette he'd glimpsed in Losca Harbor. The woman before him had shed her last vestiges of youthful innocence; she was still beautiful, but with a sharp, aloof beauty. Her blue eyes, like a frozen lake, calmly met his gaze, devoid of fear or obsequiousness, only a quiet, almost equal scrutiny.
She stands here, as Duchess Wilde.
Serena looked at him too. This man, who had once been her nightmare, the one who had inflicted endless humiliation and fear upon her, was now the most powerful ruler on this continent. The oppressive aura emanating from him was even stronger than she remembered; his icy gaze seemed to pierce through her soul. But she did not back down, forcing herself to maintain a steady breathing, feeling the hard touch of the ring on her fingertip.
Years have passed, and life and death have been intertwined.
They finally stood before each other again. Their identities and circumstances had been completely transformed.
Lucien's lips twitched upwards very subtly. It wasn't exactly a smile, but more like... confirmation, and some kind of deep-seated, indescribable interest.
“Duchess Wilde,” he began, his voice low and steady, breaking the suffocating silence like the clash of cold jade.
Serena curtsied slightly, performing a proper and impeccable gesture befitting her status, her voice clear and calm:
"Your Majesty, we are deeply honored by Your Majesty's presence. The Wilder family is extremely grateful."
The standard aristocratic language drew a clear line between official business and private matters.
Lucien's deep gaze lingered for a moment on her lowered eyelashes and the striking ducal signet ring, then slowly swept across the entire hall.
“It seems,” he said calmly, his tone revealing neither joy nor anger, “that the Duke’s manor has entered a… new beginning.”
His words were profound, like a pebble thrown into a calm lake, its ripples spreading silently.
The formal, superficial greetings concluded amidst cold, disciplined formalities. Lucien did not linger in the main hall, but instead, guided by Serena, moved to a side hall reserved for the most important guests. The Royal Guard guarded all entrances and exits, effectively isolating the space into an absolutely private domain. Mara and the Emperor's entourage remained discreetly outside the door.
Only the two of them remained in the side hall.
Sunlight streamed through the tall stained-glass windows, casting dappled but cold shadows. The air seemed to freeze, save for the occasional crackling of the burning wood in the fireplace.
Lucien did not sit down. He walked to the fireplace, his back to Serena, his gaze seemingly fixed on the leaping flames, but the invisible, all-encompassing aura emanating from him permeated the entire room.
“A brilliant counterattack, Duchess.” He didn’t turn around, his voice steady, breaking the suffocating silence. “In the Senate. Turning the tide by exploiting the opponent’s folly.”
Serena stood a few steps away from him, maintaining a vigilant posture. She didn't relax at the seemingly complimentary remark; instead, she became even more tense. "Upholding one's legitimate rights is a fundamental duty of a nobleman, Your Majesty," she replied impeccably.
Lucien slowly turned around, his deep purple eyes, like the deepest icy abyss, staring straight at her. His gaze carried a penetrating scrutiny, as if trying to peel away all her calm facade to see her true soul.
“Legal rights…” he repeated the word, a hint of enigmatic amusement in his voice, “including… a meticulously planned ‘shipwreck’? A family crest that appeared at just the right time? And, a miracle of ‘surviving’ in the Glass Islands and returning home after a long and arduous journey?”
His words were like cold daggers, precisely piercing her deepest secret.
Serena's heart skipped a beat, but she maintained a calm and composed expression. She knew he had indeed become suspicious and had uncovered a great deal. She couldn't admit it, but she also couldn't appear too ignorant.
"Your Majesty, are you referring to that unfortunate disaster?" She met his gaze, her blue eyes unwavering. "My survival was indeed due to the favor of fate, or rather, the protection of my ancestor Wilde. As for the details you mentioned, the shipwreck was chaotic, and many things are now hazy in my own memory."
She attributed everything to the chaos of fate and the uncertainty of memory.
Lucien stared at her silently for a few seconds, his gaze so sharp it was almost indistinguishable. Then, he took a very slow step forward.
This single step, however, suddenly amplified the sense of pressure.
“My memory is hazy…” he repeated softly, his voice unreadable, “So, is the memory of that figure hiding behind the window in Losca Port also hazy?”
Serena's breath hitched almost imperceptibly. He really did see it! And he remembered it so clearly!
She forced herself not to back down, her fingertips digging deeply into her palms. "His Majesty's tour is a spectacle for all to witness. I happened to be in Losca Port at the time, mingling in the crowd and glancing at him from afar, without any intention of spying. If there has been any disrespect, please forgive me, Your Majesty." She again attributed her actions to chance and unintentionality.
Lucien's lips curled into a faint, yet icy smile. He didn't press further, but instead changed direction.
"You chose to return and inherit the title." His gaze swept over the ring on her hand. "Do you believe that this title, this mansion, can provide you...protection?"
This time, Serena did not avoid the question. She raised her eyes, looked directly at him, and a sharp glint finally flashed in her eyes: "Your Majesty, I am of the Wilder family bloodline. Inheriting the title is my right and my responsibility. This has nothing to do with protection, but only with duty. The Wilder family will continue to be loyal to the Empire, but will do so with its due independence."
She was declaring her stance. She was no longer an individual he could manipulate at will; she was the leader of an ancient family, possessing the corresponding status and… bargaining power.
Deep within Lucien's eyes, that dark light flickered once more, mingled with the chill of being challenged, and an even deeper, more unfathomable emotion. He looked into her unwavering gaze, at her standing there, speaking to him as an equal.
There was a long silence, so long that even the flames in the fireplace seemed to dim.
“Very well.” He finally spoke again, his voice low but carrying an unquestionable, final judgment-like quality. “Remember your words today, Duchess. Fulfill your ‘duty’.”
He uttered no further threats, but the chill beneath his calm tone was more unsettling than any direct warning.
He gave her one last, deep look, as if trying to imprint her image in his mind, then turned and walked toward the door without a backward glance.
"We look forward to the Wilder family making new... contributions to the Empire under your leadership."
As soon as he finished speaking, he opened the door to the side hall, and the servants waiting outside immediately bowed. He didn't turn around and left straight away, like a dark cloud that had brought a brief storm, which suddenly dissipated.
Serena stood there alone until his footsteps completely disappeared at the end of the corridor, then slowly loosened her clenched fist, leaving several deep nail marks on her palm.
My back was soaked with cold sweat.
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