The Madwoman's Invitation (8)
"Something stuck in your throat? Why do you keep coughing?"
My utterly rude remark twisted the man's face into a shit-eating grimace. The women behind him hid their faces with fans, whispering among themselves.
"You speak rather bluntly," another noble said, furrowing his brow in clear displeasure. He scanned me up and down, then clicked his tongue with a mutter. "Tch... Looks like some fallen noble or a lowly merchant upstart."
"What'd you say? I can hear you just fine."
My hearing was sharper than most, and the noble flinched, averting his gaze while fussing with his slicked-back hair.
The first man who'd spoken to us twisted his lips into a sneer. "Judging by your crude word choice, you're no noble. We have no business with you."
"Then why'd you all swarm over here strutting like you own the place?"
I fired back in kind with informal speech, and the man flushed beet red, completely flustered. But playing the noble, he cleared his throat and suppressed his emotions.
He turned to Francois. "If I may... Is that lady perhaps Miss Francois Audrion of the Audrion Barony?"
At that ridiculous question, I glanced at Francois. Audrion Barony...? The one I wrecked before? The one where she was getting married...?
Francois regarded the nobles with a gentle smile. But her lips trembled faintly, and her eyes shook ever so slightly.
"Yes, that's me. Francois Audrion."
She glanced at me briefly. What...? Francois was... from the Audrion family...? The ones whose baron's castle I toppled and whose entire line I wiped out...?
Damn... this is...
"I heard the Audrion Barony was utterly destroyed in recent events," one noble said.
"Indeed. The baronies in the central Vurn Mountains fell one after another. The family all perished, and the castle collapsed."
The nobles exchanged glances and murmured.
Francois said nothing.
"How did you survive? The noble council's own investigation found no survivors."
"I..."
As Francois opened her mouth, one of the noblewomen clustered behind interjected.
"Even if they were just adoptive parents, they're still parents. I don't know how you managed to survive alone, but showing up here so casually with another man... How utterly shameless."
"And that man doesn't look like a noble either—just some rich commoner. She must've thrown herself at him, forgetting all noble decorum."
Instead of offering comfort, they spewed this insane nonsense. I'd feel a clear ring if I cracked their empty skulls.
The noblewomen knew full well Francois could hear them, yet they hid behind the men, pretending to whisper among themselves. The men, ever the gentlemen, cleared their throats and stayed silent—making sure she heard every word.
"Everyone knows the Audrion baron staked everything on climbing the social ladder. That's why he tried marrying his daughter into the Einert count's family."
"Right. It's infamous in noble circles. Her real parents died, and her brothers stole the title."
"Even with her domain in ruins, spreading her legs for some upstart merchant to save herself... Must run in the family."
The wives spewed insults loud enough for all to hear from behind their husbands, who pretended ignorance since the women were doing their dirty work. That was the deranged "courtesy," "face-saving," and "tradition" of our kingdom's nobles.
They wouldn't say it outright to preserve face—instead, they whispered it right in your face like playing blind man's bluff. And the target pretended not to hear. Why? Because victims were usually low-rank nobles who couldn't retaliate.
That was their "socializing"—exaggerating, embellishing, and doubting others' misfortunes and hardships to fuel their gossip.
"So what do you do, anyway? Never seen your face before, so not a noble... And your clothes don't scream merchant either..."
The nobles eyed me up and down, frowning.
You fucking bastards? This is the nice outfit sweet Della saved up to buy me!
I couldn't take it anymore. With a beaming smile, I stepped closer to one of them and grabbed both his shoulders like an old friend.
"How dare you lay hands on—ghk...?!"
The noble's face drained of color, his body trembling under my grip.
"L-let... go..."
I squeezed his shoulders just a bit, kneading them, and he clamped his jaw shut, unable to speak.
With a kind smile, I looked past him at his companions.
"Hey, you dog-fucking sons of whores."
The noblewomen blanched at the vile curse. The men did too.
"I'd rip your guts out, make chitterlings, and shove 'em down your throats, you worthless shits."
I was still smiling, so anyone watching might mistake it for casual banter at a banquet.
"Who the fuck do you think you're flapping your filthy sewer-rat mouths at? Swarming like rats means even if I beat you senseless, you'd never rise above count. Hell, if I collected your worthless heads, it'd fill the carriage you rode in—bags piled to the roof, you cock-sucking bastards."
One noblewoman promptly rolled her eyes back and fainted. A lie, of course. I'd beheaded a few counts before, but never enough to fill a carriage. But if I felt like it, I could make it happen. So it wasn't a lie—it could be true.
"Y-you... you lowly cur...!"
The nobles raised their voices in fury at the insults hurled right in their faces. But I kept smiling.
"If you don't want your teeth yanked out and mush for the rest of your lives, shut your traps. And apologize to this lady now."
"You filthy wretches must be out of your minds. Who the hell are you to demand apologies from us? That bitch—"
"Apologize. I never forgive anyone who touches what's under my protection."
"What nonsense is—"
I fixed the protesting noble with a stare. Meeting my gaze, he froze as if invisible hands choked his throat.
"S-sorry..."
Without knowing what he said, he apologized to Francois. No high demon could withstand my stare—let alone a human noble flower raised in a greenhouse.
"Bow. Like your household servants do. Make it sincere. The rest of you bitches too. Yeah, you with the smashed faces."
"Heavens..."
Another noblewoman staggered and collapsed.
Only then did onlookers sense the unnatural tension and crowd around us.
"Oh, nothing to see here. Just catching up with an old friend."
I flashed a friendly smile and explained to the gathering crowd.
"Wait! Isn't that—?"
Suddenly, someone shoved through the crowd toward me.
"Bertrand! Fancy meeting you here!"
It was Kekers Marquis, the white-haired elderly gentleman with his hair neatly combed back.
The nobles who'd insulted me bowed hastily to the great noble's sudden arrival. But the marquis ignored them entirely, seizing my hand and shaking it warmly.
"Of course! A man of your caliber belongs here. How's business? Any progress since last time?"
"Haha... Marquis. Built a bathhouse next to the inn. Hired a dwarf. Your letter of introduction helped immensely."
"A dwarf! Impressive as ever!"
Confusion and bewilderment dawned on the nobles' faces. They'd just sneered at me and Francois, committing every rudeness—yet Kekers Marquis, the obscenely wealthy one, treated me like this. How baffling.
"And who's this beautiful lady beside you?"
"Uh..."
I hesitated, then went simple. No point in complicated backstory.
"My wife."
"Eh? Then the gray-haired woman you brought to my private meeting before...? You called her your wife too."
Oh, right. When I visited his office in Grace Bay with Celereja, I'd introduced her as my wife.
"She's... my first wife...?"
"Ha! A true man among men!"
Where did an old guy get this energy? The marquis laughed heartily, slapping my shoulder.
But it didn't end there. His boisterous entrance drew eyes to me, and royal high officials who recognized me approached with greetings.
"Long time no see, Bertrand."
"Good to see you well, Balder."
"Oh! Hero—no, Bertrand, sir!"
The defense minister who'd technically been my superior, the cardinal I'd befriended through my old comrade the saintess, and various officials bowed or offered handshakes. They were among the elite few who knew I was the hero.
They honored secrecy oaths but didn't pretend total ignorance. Guess my ten years as hero weren't wasted.
Then I spotted a middle-aged man with a bald pate. Our eyes met; he flinched and slunk away.
Seeing his mug made curses spill out.
"You... you... fucking bastard... get over here."
Called out mid-escape, he wore a look of utter despair. He approached, bowing low enough his forehead nearly scraped the floor.
"B-Balder, sir... I hope you've been well..."