In Evan's fragmented memories of his past life in the Black household, he hadn't been particularly cunning. He was young, stubborn, and often lacked the foresight to see the vast social chasm between himself and a man like Mr. Black. He had frequently contradicted the master, unaware that in this world, such defiance was a slow form of social suicide.
That was precisely why Mr. Black had orchestrated Evan's departure. It wasn't that he objected to Mrs. Black's desire for concubines—after all, a wealthy household was expected to have such things—but he could not tolerate a man who was prettier than himself and, worse, unwilling to bow to his command.
But now, seeing Evan standing before him with lowered eyes and a humble tongue, Mr. Black felt a surge of triumphant satisfaction. He assumed that life with the "crippled" Elara Ashcroft had finally broken the boy's spirit. A touch of condescending pity flickered in his eyes.
"You..." Mr. Black paused, looking at Evan's graceful posture. "If you had been as obedient as you are now back then, I would have married you off to Sona as a primary consort. You wouldn't have ended up... well..." He sighed, trailing off as he glanced at the short, limping woman by Evan's side.
Sona Black? The simpleton daughter? Evan's eyebrows twitched, but he kept his voice smooth and subservient. "Sir, I am married to Elara Ashcroft now. Whatever she is, and wherever she goes, I follow. I've grown quite used to our quiet life; getting by slowly is enough for me."
"I suppose that's fine, then," Mr. Black said, though his expression remained unconvinced.
In this feudal era of female supremacy, he looked down on Elara with pure disdain. Here, there was no concept of a "loli" or "waifish charm"—a woman who was both short and lame was viewed as a defective person with no future. To him, Evan marrying such a woman was a tragedy. Even his own daughter, Sona, despite her lack of wit, was a golden branch of the wealthy Black family. She was worth ten of this poor, limping commoner.
Feeling a strange mixture of guilt for betrothing Evan to such a "low" station and a need to assert his lingering authority, Mr. Black turned his sharp gaze toward Elara.
"Elara Ashcroft, I must warn you," he said, his voice hardening. "Evan came from our household. I betrothed him to you, so you must cherish him and take proper care of him. If I ever hear that you have dared to bully him or treat him poorly, I will never forgive you."
Elara didn't flinch. She met the master's gaze with a steady, fierce devotion. "Don't worry, sir. Since the day I married Evan, I have cherished him above all else. I won't let anyone—not even the gods themselves—bully him."
"Good. Sona will be arriving shortly after her wedding reception. Go in and find a seat! Servant! Arrange for Evan and his wife to sit at the front table."
"Yes, Master."
Under the guidance of a bowing servant, Evan and Elara were led away from the dusty street and into the sprawling inner courtyard.
The Black Mansion was a labyrinth of luxury. While the outer courtyard and the tables lining the street were for the commoners and the curious—a mere display of the family's wealth—the inner hall was the sanctuary for true guests. This was where the actual wedding ceremony would take place, reserved for those with status and silk on their backs.
As they sat at the designated table, Evan and Elara felt like two sparrows in a garden of peacocks. The guests around them were draped in embroidered satins and heavy jewelry, their conversations filled with the scent of fine wine and arrogance. In contrast, Evan and Elara were still in their simple work clothes, having come straight from their sesame cake stall.
"Hey," Elara whispered, leaning toward Evan, her voice laced with a rare moment of insecurity. "If I had known we'd be sitting here, we should have gone back to change. We look so... ordinary."
Evan reached under the table, squeezing her hand. His touch was warm and grounding. "It's okay. We're here because we were invited. Don't think too much about it. Besides, a diamond looks like a diamond even in a burlap sack."
Just as Elara began to relax, a young servant girl walked over. She scanned their simple, worn tunics and Elara's dusty shoes, her face contorting into a sneer.
"Hey, you two! You've wandered into the wrong place," the girl barked, waving her hand as if shooing away stray cats. "This is the inner hall. People like you belong out on the street or in the outer area. Get up and move along."
Elara stood up quickly, her face flushing with embarrassment. "Ah, there must be a misunderstanding. We were arranged to sit here by Mr. Black himself."
"My Master?" The servant let out a shrill, mocking laugh. "Don't be ridiculous. My Master is a noble man of taste. Why would he allow two paupers to sit at the front table of his daughter's wedding? Stop lying and get out before I have the guards throw you out."
"You!" Elara's fists clenched, her eyes burning. She was used to being looked down upon, but to be insulted like this in front of Evan was a bitter pill to swallow. Yet, she knew where they were. Making a scene here could lead to a beating or worse.
"Forget it, Elara," Evan whispered, standing up and placing a calming hand on her shoulder. "Let's just go. It's not worth it."
He couldn't be sure if Mr. Black had sent them here in good faith or if it was a calculated humiliation. In this era, the chain of status was a physical weight, and the Black family would always protect their "face" over the dignity of a former servant.
But just as they turned to leave, a thunderous voice boomed from the courtyard entrance.
"Who dares to drive my sister and my brother-in-law away?"
The courtyard went silent. Every head turned to see Maya marching in. She was a vision of lethal grace, her official Guard uniform perfectly tailored, her hand resting on the hilt of her blade. Her heroic appearance and the authority she radiated instantly commanded the room.
The guests whispered in awe, and the haughty servant girl suddenly looked like she wanted to melt into the floor.
Maya stormed up to the servant, her eyes like cold steel. "You're the one trying to evict my family?"
"Ah... no, sir... I didn't... I mean..." The maid shook her head frantically, her bravado vanishing in the face of the Guard Captain's fury.
"You 'didn't'?" Maya pointed a gloved finger at Evan and Elara. "These are my flesh and blood. If you drive them away, you are driving me away. Is that what you want? To insult the City Guard on a wedding day?"
"No! No, I didn't know they were your kin! I'm so sorry, ma'am!"
The commotion finally drew the attention of the head housekeeper, who came running over with a nervous, fawning smile. He stepped between Maya and the trembling girl.
"Captain Maya! Please, don't misunderstand," the housekeeper said, bowing low. "This girl is a new hire. She's ignorant. She only sees the clothes and doesn't know the faces. It was a terrible oversight, I assure you."
Maya snorted, her gaze sweeping over the opulent courtyard. "My sister and her husband were busy working and came straight here to show their respect. Is the Black family so shallow that you judge a guest's heart by the thread-count of their sleeves?"
"A thousand apologies! It was our mistake entirely. I will discipline her severely," the housekeeper promised. He turned to the servant and hissed, "What are you standing there for? Get out of my sight before I have you whipped!"
The girl fled in a blur of tears.
The butler then turned back to Maya with a deep bow. "Please, Captain Maya, do not let this spoil your mood. Allow me to personally escort you all to the finest seats at the table."
"Hmph!" Maya crossed her arms, then turned to Elara and Evan, her expression softening instantly. "Sister, brother-in-law, sit back down. No one is going anywhere."
"Thank you, Maya," Elara breathed as they sat back down.
"Are you two okay?" Maya asked, her voice low and concerned as she took a seat beside them.
"We're fine," Elara said with a small smile. "If you hadn't shown up, we would have just left. There's no point in fighting with these people."
Maya slammed a hand—not too loudly, but firmly—on the table. "That's exactly the problem! You're my family. If anyone looks down on you, they're looking down on me. I am the shield of this house. Besides, Evan was part of this household. Technically, these people are in-laws. For them to treat him like a stranger while he comes to congratulate them is an insult I won't stand for."
Evan watched Maya, a quiet appreciation in his eyes. He noticed her gaze linger on him for a second longer than necessary before she looked away.
"The housekeeper said the servant was new," Evan remarked mildly.
"Humph," Maya countered, her eyes scanning the other servants who were suddenly very busy elsewhere. "New or not, do you think she's the only one? Look at the others. They all stood by and watched until I walked in. This isn't just about a 'new servant,' brother-in-law. This is about how people treat those they think are weak. But they forgot one thing..."
She looked at Evan and Elara with a fierce, protective pride.
"They forgot that you have me."