The Greatest Showman #1317 - A Shame

Viscount John de Bioford attempted to intervene again.

However, this time, Renly did not give him the chance to retaliate. He turned first, locking eyes with Viscount Bioford, his gaze calm, direct, and unflinching.

In that moment, Viscount Bioford found himself speechless, the words he had prepared choking in his throat. The emotional intensity of the song Renly had just performed still resonated through the air. His voice had rung out like a hammer, each note a testament to the purity and clarity of his soul, sending tremors through the onlookers. Yet now, as Renly met his gaze, the viscount could not find his voice.

The weight of his own emotions, his anger, and his shame began to surface.

Renly was not like Viscount Bioford. He did not resort to curses or insults; he didn't raise his voice or engage in petty confrontations. Instead, Renly exuded an elegance that transcended the class-bound arrogance of the aristocracy. His dignity radiated from within, not through condescension or superiority, but through quiet strength and self-respect. It was the kind of dignity that did not need to be asserted through the belittling of others.

This was not arrogance—it was a natural, unshakable presence.

With a slight smile, Renly spoke, his voice still carrying a hint of the roughness from his performance earlier but now calm and composed. "Sir, you know, there are many in this world who will never be able to look at themselves honestly. They live in the shadows, constantly speculating about others, judging them with their narrow, cynical view of the world. But they can never step into the light, because they do not deserve it."

His words were simple, but they struck with profound force, undermining Viscount Bioford's fragile dignity. Anger, hatred, and embarrassment surged in the viscount's chest, but his voice refused to form. He trembled, his lips quivering, but no words emerged.

Renly's next words landed softly but firmly. "Fortunately, I am not one of them."

With that, Renly nodded politely to the Earl of Oxford, Princess Beatrice, and George and Elizabeth, without missing a beat. He then continued on his way.

Without thinking, the crowd began to part, watching Renly with awe as he moved. The path before him, once ordinary, now felt like a red carpet unrolling beneath his feet. Eyes followed him, filled with admiration and reverence, reluctant to look away.

Standing frozen, George and Elizabeth could no longer maintain their composure. Their faces, once calm, now betrayed their anger and humiliation. They had been disregarded—not through loud confrontation, but by Renly's quiet, disinterested superiority. No accusations, no gestures, no insults. His indifference was the cruelest punishment.

The words he had spoken, while directed at Viscount Bioford, were also a direct blow to them. The ridicule, the scorn, cut deep. They were stripped of their dignity and left exposed in front of everyone, vulnerable to their derision. It was a humiliation unlike any they had experienced.

There was no need for slaps or harsh words—Renly had dismantled them with nothing more than his presence. It was a swift, merciless blow.

They were shaken. What now? How should they proceed? Their minds scrambled for answers, but years of aristocratic training kept them from completely unraveling in front of everyone. Their facade held, though it was now cracked.

Elizabeth, feeling the weight of the moment, turned slightly to nod to Viscount Bioford and the Earl of Oxford, then quickly moved to leave. Normally, she would have maintained her composure, chatting with other guests to disguise her discomfort, but tonight, every second in the hall felt like torture. She had to leave, and fast.

George, too, couldn't wait to escape. His usual calmness had given way to a seething anger, his footsteps quicker, more erratic than usual.

Once outside, the quiet garden seemed like an escape, offering a moment of peace, but George's rage could not be contained. The moonlight, cold and distant, only heightened the storm brewing inside him.

"How dare he!" George growled, his voice shaking with fury. "How dare he!"

He gritted his teeth, pacing back and forth. "He's mad! He's completely ruined the Hall family's reputation and glory. He's destroyed our connections, our future! He's destroyed everything!"

In his frenzy, George's words came out in a disjointed stream, his anger spilling over.

"Is it too late to stop now?" came a cold voice from above. Not Elizabeth.

George and Elizabeth froze, their bodies stiffening. They scanned the surroundings but saw no one. Just as they were beginning to wonder if it was some sort of ghostly voice, it came again, sharp and cutting.

"What he destroyed—was it the reputation of the Hall family, or yours?"

Looking up, they saw Elf Hall standing on the balcony, a glass of champagne in hand, her expression serene. The soft glow of the moon illuminated her features, casting a gentle light on her face.

"Elf!" Elizabeth hissed, "What are you doing here tonight?"

"I'm not sure myself," Elf replied with a shrug, a smile playing at her lips. "But you know, I'm quite fond of theater, and I'm close with many in the London Drama Society. I got an invitation for tonight."

But they didn't remember that. They never did.

"He's crazy, you're right about that," Elf continued, her tone calm, almost detached. "But you've forgotten something: we're all crazy. Instead of wasting time complaining, maybe you should focus on what's next."

She paused, her gaze lifting as she spoke, her words clear and unyielding. "It's not just tonight that changed things. Renly hasn't been the youngest son of the Hall family for a long time. He's Renly Hall now, a name he made on his own, through his own talent. And as for us, we are the Renly-Hall family now. He's given the Hall name new meaning."

Elf's gaze shifted downward, her eyes meeting George and Elizabeth's with an almost imperceptible look of disdain. "So, the choice is simple. You can abandon him, try to salvage your dignity and play the role of the noble family. Or you can keep quiet and pretend nothing has changed. Either way, Renly won't make a scene. His world doesn't revolve around your petty concerns."

With a self-deprecating smile, Elf took a sip from her glass, then raised it in a small salute to her parents. "It's a shame, really. What a performance. What a tragedy."

She turned and walked away, leaving George and Elizabeth standing in stunned silence, their anger frozen in place, their thoughts scattered in the cold wind. The ice in their veins seemed to freeze their very thoughts, leaving them paralyzed in the face of their humiliation.