Fated Eclipse: The Illegitimate Princess And Her Alpha Suitors

Chapter 370: The Message Delivered

Corvin bristled with anger.

His hands clenched at his sides, his jaw tightening so fiercely that the muscles along his neck stood out. The urge to strike out—to lash out at the insolent figures standing before him—was almost overwhelming.

But he was quick to master himself.

The man who had just spoken was large. Considerably larger than Corvin himself. His build was formidable.

An unmoving presence that suggested years of disciplined training and an intimate familiarity with violence.

Even if Corvin was a capable fighter—and he knew himself to be one—he was not arrogant enough to mistake confidence for invincibility.

That man could take him down.

Quickly.

And, judging by the coldness in his eyes, without the slightest hesitation.

So Corvin remained where he was.

He drew a slow breath through his nose, forcing the rage burning beneath his skin into submission.

Then he spoke.

"Tell me what your lord instructed you to convey."

His voice was controlled, though the strain beneath it was unmistakable.

The young boy chuckled.

It was a soft, almost careless sound, entirely at odds with the tension in the room. He cleared his throat, straightened his posture, and regarded Corvin with an expression that was far too composed for someone standing before a furious marquess.

"Our lord instructed us to remind you," he began, "that you ought not to mistake your humiliation for an accident."

Corvin’s expression hardened.

The boy continued.

"He believes you know perfectly well why you were dealt with as you were. For a man so readily inclined to disregard the dignity of others," the boy said, "you appear remarkably concerned with your own."

"Our lord also wished me to remind you of something he said in the arena. You received precisely the sort of treatment you have so freely bestowed upon others."

Corvin’s nostrils flared at that.

The boy continued, his tone remaining almost absurdly polite.

"He said that if you find it acceptable to strike others merely because you believe yourself superior to them, to belittle those beneath you, and to treat another’s dignity as though it were yours to trample upon, then you ought not to be astonished when someone eventually affords you the same courtesy."

The boy observed Corvin for a moment before adding, almost as an afterthought,

"He further instructed me to tell you that rank does not render a man impervious to consequence."

The words struck harder than Corvin would have liked.

The boy bowed politely one would think he practiced this when he spoke to his own lord.

"That is the entirety of his message, my lord." He said.

Corvin stared at him.

For several seconds, nobody moved.

Then Corvin took a step forward.

The urge to cross the remaining distance and seize the boy by the throat was almost unbearable.

But before he could take another step, a low growl rumbled from the large man behind the boy.

The sound was very clearly a warning and if Corvin were to take another step forward he would reap what he sowed.

Corvin was reminded of that fact once more and so he stopped.

His instinct for self-preservation overruled his fury.

The large man’s gaze remained fixed upon him. His eyes were brown and cold though every other part of his features were covered with a face mask just like the boy.

Though if Corvin was being honest there was no need for the disguise because he knew who had sent them after all.

Corvin swallowed.

Then the boy turned and began walking out of the training ground the large man behind him.

Corvin watched them leave.

His extended nails pierced his palms and blood seeped between his fingers.

He did not notice.

His entire body trembled with suppressed rage.

As though the humiliation at the competition had not been enough.

As though being defeated before the assembled court, the candidates, and the watching kingdom had not already been a sufficient injury to his pride.

Duke Valenridge had found another way to insult him.

Worse still, he had done it with exquisite deliberation.

He had not come himself.

He had not even sent a nobleman of comparable standing.

He had sent a boy.

A mere messenger.

Someone who had stood before a marquess and spoken those words without a trace of fear.

Corvin’s blood boiled.

The Duke had made his position perfectly clear.

He did not fear Corvin.

Not enough to concern himself with appearances.

Not enough to send someone of equal rank.

Not enough to believe Corvin capable of retaliating.

The Duke...Duke Valenridge.

Corvin’s eyes darkened.

He would make him regret that confidence.

He would find a way to disgrace him as thoroughly as the Duke had disgraced him.

Not once but twice.

First in the arena, before the entire kingdom.

And now this deliberate, calculated insult.

His fingers tightened.

Princess Jacinta had given him a task.

She had instructed him to remove those who might prove troublesome to the royal family.

Perhaps Duke Valenridge was not one of the persons she had intended.

Perhaps he was.

Corvin did not care.

He would take care of the Duke regardless.

Whether Valenridge posed a threat to the Crown was now irrelevant.

The Duke had made himself Corvin’s enemy.

And Corvin had no intention of allowing that insult to remain unanswered.

One way or another.

---

Tommy and Dorian entered Evander’s chambers.

The room was quiet, the fire having burned low in the hearth. The curtains remained drawn, and the dim light that filtered through them cast soft shadows across the carpet and furnishings.

Robin stood near the window.

He turned when he heard the door open.

For a moment, he merely looked at the two people.

Then he shook his head.

Tommy’s expression fell immediately.

"The Duke has only just managed to rest after a most difficult night," Robin said quietly. "We ought not to disturb him."

Tommy’s face crumpled with sadness.

He glanced towards the bed.

Evander lay beneath the covers, his features relaxed in sleep. He looked considerably less formidable in repose, though the pallor of his face made it obvious that the day had taken its toll.

Dorian’s expression was similarly troubled.

He clasped his hands behind his back and lowered his gaze.

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