I Stole The Duke - Chapter 135

“We met through a special bond, and today, in front of all, we vow to carry that bond forward as husband and wife.”

Before a crowd of guests, Joel and Riela slipped engagement rings onto each other’s fingers.

“What a perfect match they are.”

“Oh my!”

As applause erupted, Joel leaned in, his gaze soft and sweet as he looked at Riela. Slowly, their lips met.

“Wha—what?!”

His hand gently cradled her cheek. Her arm slid around his waist. The kiss, delicate at first… started lasting a little longer.

“When does this end…?”

“Shouldn’t someone stop them…?”

Once the kiss stretched past five seconds… then a full minute… the guests began exchanging awkward glances. Their hands fell still, clapping forgotten.

“Ahem! Well, this is a bit much…”

“That—! That is outrageous!”

Marquis Rancelloti, red in the face, clutched the back of his neck. As if the revealing dress showing off his daughter’s calves wasn’t enough, now she was kissing in public?! What on earth had gotten into these Southern people?

Has decency melted away in this Southern heat?

“Sniff… is this really happening?”

“He’s really getting engaged… for real…”

With every passing second of that kiss, Joel Terius’s admirers felt their hopes slipping away. He wasn’t just saying he was taken—he was proving it.

Joel Terius, the brightest star of the Southern social world, had officially become unreachable.

“Sir Joel is… engaged… sob…”

If only he had stayed everyone’s unattached favorite—shining like a star for all to admire.

“But why is Lady Demaine crying? Doesn’t she already have a fiancé?”

“And Baroness Moon? Isn’t she married? And pregnant?”

“I don’t know. The tears just won’t stop…”

All around, noblewomen who had dreamed—even just a little—of Joel were falling into a sea of tears.

“Who’s that lady crying? She doesn’t look Southern…?”

Grief. Envy. Longing. Heartache. In one corner of the venue, it all came together.

“Sniff… I’m Jitujeon from Wespa. I’m just so jealous and bitter. I introduced myself before Lady Rancelloti. I liked him first…”

“That’s nothing! We from the South have been eyeing him since before he was even of age!”

“My parents picked him for me the moment he was born!”

“Does the order even matter now?”

“What matters is we can’t love him freely anymore…”

A fight almost broke out in the corner of the banquet hall, but eventually, dozens of heartbroken ladies cried together in solidarity.

“Now entering: His Highness, Shainels de Wespera, Crown Prince of the Empire!”

The voice rang out from the entrance, ending the lingering kiss like a breeze cooling a flame.

“Ah… it seems I arrived a bit late.”

With a graceful stride and a slightly sheepish smile, Shainels entered the hall.

“His Highness has arrived.”

“Come to think of it, wasn’t Lady Rancelloti once a leading candidate for Crown Princess…?”

“So the Crown Prince just lost his bride…?”

As Shainels reached the center of the room, the whispers came to an abrupt stop.

“……”

He kept his expression composed, but inwardly, it was far from easy. Attending the engagement of a once-prospective bride wasn’t exactly pleasant. Still, as head of the imperial faction and in place of the Emperor, he had no choice but to come.

“We greet the Shining Sun of the Empire.”

“We greet His Highness.”

The newly engaged couple stepped forward and bowed respectfully.

“Congratulations on your engagement.”

It hadn’t been an official match, and feelings never developed—still, Shainels offered a calm, formal greeting.

“We’re honored that Your Highness traveled so far to attend.”

“May your union bring light and strength to the Empire.”

As the one fated to rule, jealousy toward a vassal would only make him look petty. Shainels quietly swept away the bitter thoughts clinging to his pride.

“We will always remember the blessing bestowed by the Empire’s Shining Sun.”

Joel stood straight and met Shainels’s eyes.

“A noble house has gained a talented young man. The Empire’s future can only shine brighter.”

Shainels spoke with a faint smile, but his words were deliberate. Serve the Empire loyally now—as the Marquis’s son-in-law.

He may have lost the bride, but if he gained a competent knight, he could accept that outcome.

“I, Joel Terius, as a knight who honors his oath and serves in the Southern Navy, will devote myself fully to the Empire.”

The words were proper—but Joel emphasized “Southern Navy” just enough to make his stance clear: his loyalty belonged to House Ascher, not the crown.

What had the Empire ever done for them? The Terius family had never once sworn loyalty to the throne in all its history.

‘How insolent.’

Shainels’s expression tightened ever so slightly. A mere knight, brushing off the will of the Crown Prince as if it were nothing.

“……”

A tense silence hovered.

“To have such an honored guest travel so far—Count Renos Terius is truly overwhelmed!”

“We greet the Shining Sun of the Empire.”

At just the right moment, Count Terius entered with his wife and offered formal respects to the prince.

“Would the lovely lady care to dance?”

With perfect timing and parental support, Joel gently escaped the strained mood and turned to Riela with a soft smile.

“Yes… I’d be happy to.”

And so, hand in hand, the stars of the engagement began their first dance together.

So that’s the look someone gives when they’re in love.

Iadis watched Joel and Riela as they danced, observing closely. If he ever planned to enter the realm of romance, it was only logical to study the habits of someone experienced in it.

“Sir Joel’s gaze is completely different from when he’s on duty… It’s like a bear looking at a pot of honey.”

The year was drawing to a close, and Iadis was starting to feel a twinge of urgency. Joel, four years younger, had beaten him to the altar. The pressure was real.

“Every ten seconds, he looks her in the eyes and smiles. That’s consistent.”

“Um…”

A quiet, hesitant voice interrupted his analysis.

“Yes, my lady? Is something the matter?”

He turned and found, to his surprise, the same young lady he had helped earlier with heatstroke—looking up at him once again.

“I didn’t get a chance to thank you properly earlier.”

“I was merely doing what was right.”

A knight with honor never leaves a lady in distress, after all.

“Still, I…”

“Are you sure you’re feeling alright?”

Iadis tilted his head slightly, watching her flushed cheeks. Her sunburn still hadn’t faded—it seemed she was extremely sensitive to sunlight.

“I’m fine now.”

But Evelyn, second daughter of the Marquis of Gensapine, steeled herself. She looked at the Tower Master—so distant and majestic—and clenched her fists. If you want to win the heart of a handsome man, you must be bold. Backing down now would mean surrender.

“That’s good to hear.”

“Sir!”

“Yes? Please speak freely.”

“Would it be terribly forward of me… to ask you for a dance?!”

Her voice rang out louder than she intended. She shut her eyes tight, throwing everything she had into this one bold question.

“……”

“Oh…”

The surrounding area fell completely silent.

No one had dared approach the Tower Master—and yet here was a red-haired lady boldly asking him for a dance.

“Pardon?”

Iadis was visibly startled. No woman had ever asked him to dance before—and this certainly wasn’t the time.

“I can’t start anything with someone while wearing a false identity.”

He was grateful for the sentiment, but this was still an active mission. He couldn’t allow himself to form ties while impersonating the Tower Master.

“May I ask your name, my lady?”

He gently took her trembling hand, offering her a soft, respectful gaze.

“I’m Evelyn, second daughter of the Marquis of Gensapine.”

Though their family had recently seen some decline, the Gensapines were still respected in the East.

“Lady Evelyn… I’m truly sorry. Due to personal circumstances, I can’t dance tonight. But should fate bring us another opportunity, I will be the one to ask you first.”

He slowly and kindly released her hand. It was a refusal—yet so gentle it couldn’t be resented.

“……”

The two stood in brief silence, until the applause for the main couple’s dance signaled its end.

“I have another engagement, so if you’ll excuse me.”

Without lingering, Iadis turned and walked away. It was time to meet with his superior.

“Eliana… do you remember what I told you before?”

Amid the buzz of the ballroom, as the first dance ended, Michalis leaned in close to whisper into her ear.

“What was it?”

“Don’t smile at anyone else.”

Especially not that one over there. The Crown Prince.

“Not even at other women?”

Eliana responded playfully, teasing him for being so strict.

“You may smile at women. That’s fine.”

With that, he kissed her gently on the temple.

“What was that?”

Eliana’s eyes widened, and she rubbed the spot where his lips had touched her.

“Because we’ll be apart for a while, and I’m feeling a little uneasy.”

Lately, Eliana’s beauty had reached a level that made Michalis anxious. She was no longer just lovely—she was nearly divine.

“……”

Eliana stood frozen. Her husband had just said something so sweet, with the most serious face.

“Sir Cedric. Sir Roanes. Sir Ista.”

Michalis called to the knights who had been standing a short distance away. Other than Joel, they were the most familiar to Eliana and among the most skilled.

“Yes, Your Grace.”

“Sir Ista, stay close and handle close-range protection. Sir Cedric and Sir Roanes, take care of the perimeter.”

“Understood.”

“Your top priority is the Duchess’s safety—but do not disrupt her social interactions.”

Michalis glanced at Cedric in particular. It was a silent warning: stop glaring like you’re ready to charge into battle.

“Yes, sir.”

Cedric tried to soften his gaze as much as he could.

“Then, I’ll see you again after we’ve each done our rounds.”

A rare grand event, right in their own domain. It was the perfect time to connect with vassals outside the military, and Michalis had to make the most of it.

“Alright, Michalis.”

The Duke and Duchess finally parted ways for the evening.

“Second floor, fourth room on the right.”

Before anyone could approach, Michalis made his way quickly to the designated lounge.

“Your Grace.”

When the door opened, Iadis, already in position, rose from the sofa.

“The report I asked for?”

Michalis locked the door behind him and sat down across from Iadis, who still wore the Tower Master’s disguise.

“Yes. I’m ready to report.”

With the mages expected to return soon, it was time to plan the final phase of the infiltration operation.

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