I Died and Became a Noble's Heir

Chapter 341: King Eric Valdris

Near the estate entrance, Charlotte Stormblood stood beside her brother Garrick, her storm-grey eyes fixed on the scene she’d just witnessed.

Her expression remained perfectly pleasant, the slight smile never wavering.

But her left eye twitched. Just once. A tiny spasm that lasted perhaps half a second.

A young nobleman chose that exact moment to approach.

He’d finally worked up the courage to speak with the legendary Stormblood daughter, drawn by her reputation as both beautiful and deadly.

”Lady Charlotte,” he began, his practiced smile in place. ”I don’t believe we’ve been properly...”

Charlotte’s fist drove into his gut with surgical precision. The blow carried enough force to lift him slightly off his feet, driving all air from his lungs in a whoosh that expelled all his breath.

Rhys doubled over, his wine glass shattering against the stone as both hands clutched his abdomen. His bodyguard moved to intervene, but Garrick’s hand fell on the man’s shoulder with casual menace.

”I wouldn’t,” Garrick said mildly.

Charlotte’s smile never wavered as she stepped over the gasping noble. ”How clumsy of me,” she said sweetly to no one in particular. ”I do hope he’s alright.”

As she moved past her brother, Garrick heard her whisper, ”I’ll kill that bitch!”

”Easy, sister,” Garrick murmured as he grabbed her elbow. He’d been managing Charlotte’s more intense reactions since they were children. ”Not here. Father would disapprove of bloodshed at a celebration.”

Charlotte’s smile remained in place, but her eye twitched again. ”Of course. How thoughtless of me. I’ll wait until it’s appropriate.”

The emphasis on ’appropriate’ made even Garrick slightly uncomfortable.

Across the garden, Lady Starfell watched Jack’s interaction with Veyra with carefully controlled expression. Her amber eyes tracked every movement, every gesture, the way Veyra leaned in close, the kiss on the cheek that lasted fractionally too long.

Her hands clenched at her sides, nails digging into her palms hard enough to leave crescents. But her face remained pleasant, the warm smile never slipping.

’One of the Six Flowers,’ Starfell thought, her internal voice was writhing in anger even though she had a cheerful exterior. ’How fortunate for her. I’m sure her perfect face and perfect figure had nothing to do with earning Jack’s attention.’

She took a deliberate sip of wine, using the motion to hide the tightness around her eyes. ’Though I suppose when you’re built like a goddess and have a family fortune to match, earning favors comes easily.’

A servant passed with a tray of delicacies, and Lady Starfell selected one to take her mind off things. She wouldn’t approach Jack. Not tonight. Not after watching Veyra claim that kiss, as if marking her territory.

’Besides,’ she thought, her smile becoming slightly more genuine despite the jealousy churning in her gut, ’we have our private meeting. Just the two of us. Let’s see how confident Lady Perfect is when she doesn’t have a crowd to perform for.’

From across the garden, Jack’s eyes found Chiron Stormblood.

The legendary warrior stood near the central fountain, his pale eyes fixed on Jack with intensity that made the air feel thicker.

There was no hostility in his gaze, but there was assessment. Chiron was staring Jack down to figure out how strong he was.

Jack stared back, refusing to look away, refusing to show even a hint of intimidation despite knowing exactly how dangerous the man before him was.

Red lightning crackled from Jack’s eyes. Small arcs of crimson electricity danced across his irises and sparked into the air around his face, creating a corona of power that made his red eyes seem to glow from within.

Chiron’s expression shifted fractionally. His eyebrows rose perhaps a millimeter, and approval flickered across his features before being subsumed by his usual stoic mask.

The stare-down stretched, neither man blinking, neither backing down. Around them, the gardens had gone silent. Even the musicians had stopped playing, sensing that something significant was unfolding.

Corvin shifted on Jack’s shoulder, his purple eyes fixed on Chiron with the patient intensity of a creature that understood exactly what was happening and found it mildly interesting.

The red lightning continued to crackle around Jack’s eyes.

And through it all, the bracelet on his wrist pulsed with steady warmth, Zephyros’s blessing working its influence through his system, making everything more intense and more difficult to ignore.

But deep down, beneath the confidence and bravado, a small voice wondered if he was lying to himself.

The moment stretched, tension building like a drawn bowstring. Nobles held their breath. Servants froze mid-motion. Even the wind seemed to be still, as if nature itself recognized that something important was being decided through nothing more than eye contact and will.

Then, distant but growing closer, the sound of hoofbeats on gravel.

The herald, who’d been watching the confrontation with wide eyes, suddenly snapped to attention. His face paled as he recognized the approaching carriages, and his voice when he called out carried a tremor that hadn’t been present all evening.

”His Majesty, King Eric Valdris of Elysium!” The herald’s voice cracked slightly on the title. ”Accompanied by Chosen Ones Aurelius and Lyra!”

Every noble in the gardens dropped to one knee, heads bowed, hands placed over hearts in the traditional gesture of fealty. Servants prostrated themselves fully, faces pressed to the grass. Even the proud Lord Arydn bent his knee, and Lady Mistfang’s elegant form folded into a graceful curtsy.

But three figures remained standing.

Duke Alaric, near the estate’s entrance, stood with his hands clasped behind his back, his posture respectful yet unbowed. His golden eyes tracked the approaching carriages.

Chiron Stormblood remained exactly as he’d been, his pale eyes shifting from Jack to the newcomers with mild interest. His status as Erebon’s strongest warrior apparently exempted him from displays of subservience.

And Jack, in the center of the gardens with red lightning still crackling faintly around his eyes, watched as the king’s carriage rolled into view.

The carriage itself was a masterpiece of understated power. Black wood polished to mirror shine, drawn by six white horses. Gold trim caught the lantern light, and the royal crest blazed on the door in colors that seemed to glow with their own luminescence.

The vehicle stopped precisely at the garden’s entrance, positioned to give the king full view of his subjects’ obeisance.

A footman opened the door, bowing so low his forehead nearly touched his knees.

King Eric descended first.

He wore formal robes of deep purple trimmed with gold, the colors of Elysium’s royal house.

When those eyes found Jack standing unbowed in the center of the gardens, something flickered across the king’s features.

Acknowledgment that this young man was either too powerful or too foolish to bend a knee.

Aurelius emerged next, and the temperature in the gardens rose fractionally.

He was perhaps in his early thirties, with golden hair that fell to his shoulders and eyes the color of molten amber. He wore simple but elegant robes of white and gold, and when he moved, light seemed to follow him like an obedient servant.

His honey-smooth voice carried easily across the garden despite being barely above a conversational tone. ”Your Majesty honors House Kaiser with his presence.”

Lyra was last.

She was perhaps twenty-five, with pale hair pulled back in a severe braid and eyes that tracked across the assembled nobles like a predator cataloging prey.

Her clothing was practical, rather than the typical fancy attire. She wore leather and dark fabric that wouldn’t impede her movement. A bow was slung across her back.

King Eric’s gaze moved from Jack to Chiron to Alaric, and a slight smile touched his lips.

”Rise,” he commanded, his voice carrying absolute authority that made it clear who was in control.