Strength in Unity: Never my sibling
Micheal, glancing at Magda, noticed her faraway expression but chose not to interrupt her thoughts.
He was wondering how to wrap up the dinner when the mood shifted abruptly. A servant "accidentally" spilled wine on Micheal's sleeve, breaking the flow of the evening.
The servant, a striking young woman who embodied the standards of Northern beauty, quickly reached out to wipe the spill, her hands brushing over Micheal's sleeve.
"Oh, my lord, let me help you," she said, her tone laced with feigned innocence.
Magda's posture stiffened instantly, her crimson eyes flashing with unease as she watched the scene unfold.
Micheal, aware of Magda's reaction, held up a hand to stop the servant.
"That's quite unnecessary," he said calmly. To everyone's surprise, he tore the stained part of his sleeve with a swift motion and discarded it. "Problem solved."
The servant stared at him in shock, her face a mix of confusion and embarrassment.
Magda, clearly intoxicated, didn't respond. She glanced at Micheal, her eyes brimming with unshed tears, silently conveying her angst.
Micheal's heart ached as he realized how deeply the repeated advances from other women had worn her down. What he had thought was harmless teasing had only caused her pain.
Reflecting on the unwanted attention since arriving in Altona, Micheal felt frustration bubble up. Rumors about his marriage had spurred countless women to drop trinkets or feign accidents near him.
Initially, he tolerated it, even finding twisted amusement in how it stirred Magda's feelings. But now, seeing the hurt it caused her, he knew it had to stop. Determined, Micheal resolved to put an end to these unwelcome advances once and for all.
Fredrick raised an eyebrow, clearly impressed. "Well handled, Micheal. Though I must say, you've become quite the center of attention these days. Perhaps it's time to address those rumors about your marriage."
Micheal's smile didn't waver, but his eyes darkened slightly. "Rumors are just that. Nothing more." His tone left no room for further discussion.
Ethan, who hadn't touched a drop of wine the entire evening, observed the scene with a sharp gaze. He quickly deduced that the servant had either been sent by someone or had taken it upon herself to try her luck with one of the men.
It was a common practice among minor nobles to send women to gain favor with powerful lords. Ethan was no stranger to such tactics, and he found them tiresome at best, distasteful at worst.
It was a sobering realization, though perhaps poorly timed for the servant.
She had chosen the wrong table—one where most of the women were intoxicated, yet the men remained as sober as nightwatch guards.
His attention shifted to Vivian, who was clearly intoxicated. The last thing he wanted was for her to become entangled in this mess, intentionally or not.
Steeling himself, Ethan excused himself from the table.
"Fredrick, since we're heading the same way, I'll drop Vivian off," he said with quiet resolve, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Before Ethan could act, Magda, despite her own intoxication, sat up abruptly.
The air around her seemed to shimmer faintly, and without warning, Calista appeared as though stepping out from the folds of shadow. Her arrival was silent but commanding, her emerald eyes glowing faintly in the dim light.
"Take Vivian," Magda instructed firmly, her voice cutting through the noise.
Calista inclined her head with a knowing smile, as though she had anticipated the command long before it was given. "She's staying in the room next to mine tonight."
Magda's vow to protect her retainers shone through in that moment, her sharp authority effectively cutting off Ethan from accompanying Vivian.
Calista moved with an almost ethereal grace, leaving no doubt that she would fulfill her mistress's orders without question.
Micheal, watching the scene unfold, couldn't hide his amusement. His wife had unknowingly done exactly what he wished for—separating Ethan and Vivian.
Micheal knew from experience that Ethan was almost allergic to the company of women other than Vivian. Now his brother could return to his quarters and have a peaceful night.
However, Fredrick, slightly tipsy himself, clapped Ethan on the back and offered an alternative. "Why don't you share a room with Micheal? There's plenty of space, and it'll save you a trip."
Ethan's face twisted with reluctance, but before he could protest, Micheal chuckled. "Looks like we're roommates tonight, brother."
In a moment of hilarity, Ethan realized Fredrick had underestimated just how much he'd had drunk, leaving both brothers trapped in an unexpected arrangement.
But Micheal welcomed it, he didn't want his brother to introduce another character as his future nephew's mother.
Micheal rose, gently helping Magda to her feet. She swayed slightly, leaning against him as he guided her back to their room.
Despite the chaos of the evening, Micheal couldn't help but feel a quiet sense of victory as he ensured both his wife and his brother were safely out of harm's way.
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As the dinner wound down and the guests began to disperse, Flora found herself walking alongside Fredrick in the softly lit corridors of Valenhart Estate.
Fredrick, clearly a little drunk, leaned against the ornate railing of a nearby balcony, his usual composure softened by the warmth of the evening.
"Flora," Fredrick began, his voice tinged with affection, "Don't you think Magda deserves better than being called the fourth child of Shelb? She's so much more than that."
Flora smiled softly at his words. "You speak of her as if she's your little sister," she teased, though her curiosity shone through. "Why didn't you have such expectations when they thought I was Empress Celeste's child? You never treated me like a younger sibling."
Fredrick turned to her, his gray eyes unusually warm. "Because I knew from the start you weren't my aunt's child," he admitted, his voice steady despite the alcohol. "And when you confessed your feelings for me, I couldn't see you as anything other than the woman I wanted to spend my life with. It took me time to accept it, but I realized you could never be my sister—only my wife."
Flora's cheeks flushed faintly, but she chuckled. "You certainly didn't make it easy back then."
Fredrick laughed softly, his hand brushing hers. "I may be slow, but I've never been blind. I loved you in my own way, even when I didn't realize it."
Flora tilted her head, studying him. "And Magda? What do you expect from her?"
Fredrick straightened slightly, his tone growing firm. "I expect her to thrive. She's strong, even if she doesn't fully realize it yet. And as for Micheal, if he pulls anything that hurts her…" He trailed off, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Let's just say the Emperor and I would take turns breaking his knees."
Flora laughed, though there was a seriousness in Fredrick's words that she didn't doubt for a moment. "You're protective of her. It almost feels like she's your child."
Fredrick smiled, his expression softening again. "Magda reminds me of what Valenhart family once was, the bonds that held Valenhart together. Now, there's only me and her left of Valenhart bloodline. She deserves happiness, and I'll do whatever it takes to ensure she gets it."
Flora leaned against his shoulder, her voice soft. "You really are something, Fredrick. And for what it's worth, I think Magda's lucky to have you in her corner."
Fredrick kissed the top of her head gently. "And I'm lucky to have you at my side, Flora. You are most precious treasure of the Valenhart for me."
The two continued their walk down the corridor, their conversation fading into the quiet hum of the estate as they reflected on family, love, and the complex dynamics surrounding them.