Chapter 42: The Duel Challenge

Aurora sighed and lazily complied.

Margaret’s eyes flickered. Clearly, she wasn’t satisfied.

What she wanted to see was kneeling, bowing, obedience.

“Turn around.”

Aurora didn’t move. Instead, she crossed her arms and asked, “Why?”

“It’s an order.”

Aurora stood still, looking at the queen’s face.

Aurora didn’t want trouble, but she absolutely wasn’t afraid of it.

“Your Highness, I refuse. You have no authority to command me.”

“How bold.”

The queen’s smile faded, her expression turning sinister.

“Is this how the Olivia family teaches their daughters? Not even listening to the queen? It seems the Marquis truly lacks upbringing. He can’t even control his own daughter, no wonder he can’t manage the king’s estates and needs our Hermes family to bail him out with money!”

At these words, the whole hall fell silent.

Everyone froze in shock.

Aurora, however, laughed in anger.

“Pfft.”

‘Not really, Your Majesty. You don’t actually think my father, my family, and I enjoy being your chancellor, do you? My father took on the role of acting chancellor only to help your husband, out of goodwill. He didn’t ask for anything in return. He rallied people for you, sent you grain. And now you’re pushing your luck, huh?’

Aurora felt her face heat up, and she intended to make the queen feel a hundred times hotter.

She looked down. Noticing that the black silk elbow-length glove on her hand wasn’t easy to take off, she simply grabbed Balian’s arm, snatched his white glove, pulled it off, and threw it to the ground.

The white glove landed in the center of the open space between the queen and Aurora.

“Queen Margaret, Your Highness, your intellect is likely unable to support you in controlling and understanding what you have just said. I believe no conscientious chancellor, loyal border guardian, or ancient noble family could accept such an insult…”

“…And according to the customary conventions among ancient families, such insults must be washed clean with blood. I request a duel with you.”

“A duel?!?!”

The queen was dumbfounded.

The surrounding nobles were stunned.

Only Crown Prince Joffrey was still watching the excitement without a care, completely unaware of how serious things had become.

A noble lady challenging the queen to a duel?

In all her years, she had never seen such a thing.

Since when did ladies settle arguments with swords?

Aurora knew this move was shocking, and that was exactly why she was sure Margaret would never expect it.

Aurora had practiced some swordsmanship, and she was young. The queen couldn’t beat her and wouldn’t dare fight her. Margaret would either dodge or find a stand-in.

If she chose the former, Aurora would use the duel as leverage to mock her thoroughly.

If the queen chose the latter, it was simple: mock her for lacking backbone and dragging others down.

Either way, it wouldn’t come to a real fight.

‘If a knight fought a duel on the queen’s behalf against a marquis’s daughter… would he ignore how people would criticize a grown man bullying a lady when he’s in the wrong? And would he fight on her behalf without the king’s consent? Was he planning to cuckold the king?’

As for the king returning, there was even less to worry about.

First, her father was the chancellor, a marquis, and an old friend of the king.

Second, the queen was the one who started acting crazy.

Sure enough, as Aurora predicted, after the initial shock faded, Margaret forced out a sneer and raised her fan to cover half her face.

“A duel? Do you think you’re a knight? Playing with swords is not what a lady should do.”

“But playing with your lips to trample the honor of other families is clearly also not what a lady should do.”

Aurora continued to mock:

“In my impression, only the mercenaries in the taverns on the Right Bank would brag so shamelessly. Since Your Majesty’s words are as sharp as theirs, you must be as familiar with swords as they are.”

“You…!!! Vulgar!”

“Ah, I see.”

Aurora tilted her head.

“I suppose Your Majesty, who never goes anywhere but banquets and bed, doesn’t understand the etiquette of dueling. That was thoughtless of me. Allow me to explain.”

Margaret’s face went from white to red to green. Her chest heaved violently several times, and even the ornaments on her silver gown trembled.

“Captain of the Guard.”

She ground out two words through her teeth.

Margaret turned her head and ordered Lancelot.

“She wants a duel? Then give her one. Teach this insolent girl what rules and obedience mean, for me and for Marquis Ed!”

And this did not exceed Aurora’s expectations.

Aurora tilted her head and curled her lips.

“So that’s how it is, Your Majesty. No wonder you don’t know about duels. When you cause trouble, you hide in bed and let the knight the king sent to guard you…”

“Insolent!!”

Margaret’s face had contorted.

Lancelot didn’t wait for a second order.

His silver-white plate armor clanked with a dull metallic sound as he stepped forward, stopped in front of Aurora, and looked down at her.

Aurora looked up, staring straight into Lancelot’s eyes.

Suddenly, she felt a strange familiarity about this man.

‘Where had she seen the Frankish Guard? Near the dungeon. Him? The captain? No way.’

Aurora suppressed her doubts, forced herself to stay calm, and said to Lancelot:

“Sir Lancelot of Adenauer, if you lay a hand on the chancellor’s daughter without His Majesty’s authorization, have you considered the consequences?”

Lancelot’s green eyes narrowed slightly.

In that moment of hesitation, Aurora reached into the inside of her skirt and pulled out a folded piece of parchment. She pinched a corner between her thumb and index finger, poised as if she would tear it apart at any moment.

A Fireball scroll.

She didn’t actually intend to tear it. Detonating a 105mm high-explosive shell inside a tent wasn’t a duel; it was a terrorist attack.

But the captain didn’t know she held a Fireball scroll for area attacks, nor did he know whether she would tear it.

Aurora deliberately stepped forward, bumping into Lancelot as if she were trying to pick a fight. Lancelot really didn’t dare lay hands on Aurora in front of so many people, so he had no choice but to step back.

But in Balian’s eyes, things were far from under control.

All he could see was his tiny lady, small, pitiful, and helpless, being bullied by a huge knight like Lancelot.

How could he stand that?

Punch him!

Balian moved.

He stepped between Aurora and Lancelot in one stride, shielding Aurora. He reached out and pressed his hand against the captain’s chestplate, planting his entire body between the two.

“Step back.”

Lancelot finally spoke.

He didn’t dare touch Aurora, but Balian was thick-skinned and sturdy; a hit wouldn’t do him any harm.

Marquis Ed wouldn’t start a war with the Adenauer family over a guard. And Balian’s other identity, “God’s Chosen Hero Candidate,” was worthless in front of a noble like him.

Hero candidates were reincarnations of the goddess, but in the Church, the one who truly held power was the Pope.

“You step back.”

Not only did Balian not retreat, he abruptly pushed the captain.

The two big men faced off half an arm’s length apart. Balian’s palm pressed firmly against the silver chestplate, while Lancelot’s hand had already rested on his sword hilt. The nobles in the tent all stepped back, afraid of getting caught in the middle.

Aurora’s eyes widened, and her mouth formed an O.

She hadn’t expected Balian to be so irrational.

“What nonsense is this?!”

A roar exploded from the direction of the tent entrance.

Marquis Ed Olivia stormed in, the hem of his official robe flapping in the wind. His gaze swept over the queen, Lancelot, Balian, and Aurora. His face was ashen, uglier than the sky outside.

From the corner of her eye, Aurora caught a flash of purple slipping in through the other entrance of the tent.

Katie tiptoed silently back into the crowd.

It seemed Ed had been summoned by her. Aurora owed her a favor.

She breathed a sigh of relief.

📚 Also on NHV Novels

My Magical Girl Wife Died… So Why Is She My Best Friend Now?

FantasyFemale ProtagonistMagic

Read Now →
Not interested