The climax of the Royal Hunt was a feast of galloping horses and pursued prey for the nobles, but for lower servants like Elara, it was a hell of high-strung nerves where mistakes could happen at any moment.
On this day, Elara was temporarily assigned to assist the Baroness's maidservant, serving refreshments at a resting spot near the main tent area for several noble ladies visiting the Baroness. This was her first time being so close to true nobility. Elara was so nervous her palms were sweating. She moved with extreme caution, etching the words "silent," "submissive," "invisible" into her mind.
She carried a moderately heavy silver tray (the most luxurious item she had ever touched), holding several cups of steaming herbal tea. Head bowed, following the maidservant's instructions, she took small steps towards a Countess in a magnificent purple gown who was chatting merrily with the Baroness.
However, accidents often happen when you least expect them.
An excited hound suddenly broke free from its handler, darting out from the side and crashing straight into Elara!
Caught completely off guard, Elara staggered! She instinctively tried to steady the tray, but the force of the impact made it wobble violently. Clang!
Although the tray didn't fall, one cup of scalding herbal tea spilled, most of it splashing onto the ground, but a few hot drops landed on the hem of the Countess's purple gown!
"Ah!" The Countess let out a short cry, looking down in disgust at the small, wet tea stains on her expensive skirt.
The surroundings instantly fell silent. The Baroness's smile froze on her face. Her personal maid turned deathly pale. All eyes focused on Elara, the source of the trouble.
"Damned slave!" The Countess's personal maid was the first to react, rushing forward, pointing a sharp finger at Elara's nose, screeching, "Are you blind?! How dare you dirty her Ladyship's gown! Do you know how expensive this gown is? Selling you wouldn't even begin to cover it!"
Though the Countess herself didn't speak, the icy fury and undisguised disgust on her face clearly indicated her feelings.
Steward Gregor appeared seemingly out of nowhere, likely drawn by the commotion. Seeing the situation, he was terrified. He rushed towards Elara, raising his hand as if to strike her!
"You useless trash, always messing things up! Kneel and beg her Ladyship's forgiveness immediately!" Gregor bellowed, desperate to appease the noble's anger quickly and shift all blame onto Elara.
Elara trembled violently, knowing she was likely doomed this time. The crime of offending a noble, even accidentally, would mean, if not death, at least a whipping severe enough to take half her life. She opened her mouth, wanting to explain about the hound, but looking at the Countess's cold eyes and Gregor's eagerness to sacrifice her, she knew any explanation was futile.
She closed her eyes in despair, bracing for the impending punishment.
However, the expected slap and whip never came.
A low, steady voice, carrying unquestionable authority, spoke calmly:
"Enough."
Just one word, yet it seemed to possess a magic quality, instantly silencing the noisy scene. Even the enraged Countess seemed taken aback, turning towards the sound.
Duke Reinhardt stood nearby under a large tree, seemingly in conversation with another Marquis of equally high status. His gaze swept coolly over the scene, his face retaining its usual impassive, iceberg-like expression.
Seeing the Duke, Gregor nearly collapsed in fear, immediately scurrying towards him like a lapdog. "Your... Your Grace..."
Duke Reinhardt didn't even look at Gregor. His gaze shifted to the Countess in purple, his tone flat, devoid of emotion: "Lady Lopez, losing your temper over such a trifle is beneath your station."
The Countess's expression changed slightly. Though still displeased, she clearly didn't dare cross Duke Reinhardt. His power and methods were not something she could afford to offend. She forced a smile. "Your Grace is right. It... it was just a clumsy servant, not worth getting upset over."
"In that case," the Duke's gaze moved to Gregor, his tone carrying a subtle, aristocratic disdain, "control your people. Maintain decorum on such occasions. Clean this up."
"Yes! Yes! Your Grace is absolutely right!" Gregor nodded profusely, quickly gesturing for other maidservants to pull Elara aside and clean up the mess on the ground.
Elara was roughly handled by two maidservants, practically dragged away from the scene. From beginning to end, she hadn't dared to even glance at the Duke again.
But inside, her heart was in turmoil!
Again! It was Duke Reinhardt again! Just as she was about to face severe punishment, he had intervened nonchalantly, resolving the crisis!
Although his tone was cold, his attitude indifferent, he hadn't even looked directly at her, and his motive seemed merely to maintain the "decorum" of the occasion rather than caring about a lowly serf like her...
But, ultimately, he had "saved" her once more!
This was the second time! Could... could it really be a coincidence?
Elara's heart pounded uncontrollably. This Duke, cold as an iceberg, powerful as a god, perhaps... wasn't quite like the rumors depicted, trampling wantonly on all the weak? Perhaps he had his own code of conduct, a kind of... higher pride that disdained association with base evils?
She couldn't help but start fantasizing... if... if she could gain this great lord's protection... could she perhaps escape Gregor's control, escape this precarious fate?
Once born, the thought grew like a wild vine!
Fear still remained, but a more complex, more dangerous emotion began to quietly bloom in Elara's heart. She watched Duke Reinhardt's retreating back, strong and powerful like a mountain range, and mixed in with her fear was... an admiration and anticipation, like a moth drawn to a flame, that frightened even herself.
This man—powerful, cold, mysterious—yet he had "descended" twice at her most critical moments.
Could he... be her salvation? Even if it was salvation from hell itself?