Cecil loosened his collar, his eyes regaining their usual calm: "Where are they?"
"downstairs."
Cecil nodded, pulled down his sleeve to cover the gauze on his wrist, and said in a cold voice, "I understand, you may leave."
Isri stood still and bowed slightly, a smile playing on his lips: "Yes, young master."
Sehir did not turn around, leaving Isri standing there. As he reached the top of the stairs, a disturbing sound came from below.
Sehir composed himself, and as soon as he reached halfway down the stairs, the people below spotted him immediately.
"Nephew, you've finally arrived!" The woman beamed with joy and rushed toward Cecil, leaving her son aside.
As Cecil watched the woman rush towards him, he instinctively took a step back, a hint of disgust in his eyes.
The man behind the woman saw this and quickly stepped forward to pull her away, smiling apologetically as he said to Cecil, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, my wife was too excited."
Sehir did not reply to the man, but slightly tucked his chin and walked past the two of them.
He recognized the man; his name was Rice. He was a relative from his father's generation—meaning they had no blood relation whatsoever. He was only here to ride on their coattails and embellish his own image.
Sesil sat expressionlessly in the reception room. Seeing this, Rice hurriedly picked up the box beside him, put on the smile he had been training for a long time, and went to Sesil's side.
“Nephew, look what we brought you!” Rice’s eyes gleamed as he deftly opened the box and pushed it in front of Cecil.
Before Cecil could speak, Rice spoke again, "This is silk we brought from East Asia. The gold thread inside was all hand-sewn in, and there's also..."
Just as Rice was getting into the exciting part and was about to continue, Cecil suddenly raised his hand and slammed the lid of the box down, his eyes showing no interest in what was inside.
"What do you want to do?" Cecil's voice was neither loud nor soft, but it hit the nail on the head.
Rice was excited and was about to explain his purpose when his wife stopped him.
She stood in front of Rice, glaring at Cecil: "Don't you think this is incredibly rude of you? How can you talk to your uncle like that!"
Cecil's head was already spinning, and the noise only made him more annoyed. His tone turned even colder: "What about your manners? Why don't you bow to the Duke?"
She was clearly taken aback by Cecil's words, and frowned in confusion as she looked back at Rice, only to find that Rice had already lowered his head to his chest.
Rice had clearly told her that the two families had a good relationship, so what was going on? Rice was also confused. She thought that the silk would win over Cecil, and she had even asked what she was doing, but this impetuous woman interrupted her.
Seeing the awkward situation, the woman forced a smile and pulled her husband back to his seat: "Why are you saying such things between relatives?"
The woman's thoughtless words made Cecil's face turn even colder, and for a moment she even had the idea of playing around with him.
"What do you want?" Cecil was so dizzy that he propped his chin up with his hand and leaned on the table, looking extremely languid.
When Rice saw that they were back to the main topic, the light in his eyes lit up again, and his hands nervously rubbed back and forth below, his voice filled with excitement.
“We don’t want anything else, we just want the title.” Rice swallowed hard, his eyes fixed on Cecil.
Cecil didn't look directly at Rice, but instead focused his gaze on the child in the distance, his voice indifferent: "I remember you were quick to sever ties back then, why do you want to come back now?"
In an instant, the air seemed to freeze between them. Rice's smile froze, and his voice became stammering: "Back then...back then we had our own issues, so..."
"So you're trying to sever ties with our master's family overnight?" Cecil's gaze met Rice's eyes again, and Rice nervously avoided looking up at him.
Those dark eyes held no emotion of their own; a single glance from them felt like falling into a lake from which there was no bottom.
"No! No..."
Rice was so nervous he didn't know what to say. He didn't understand why Cecil knew about their fathers' past. He had thought things would go smoothly, but this was all beyond his expectations.
Sehir's logic had exceeded his expectations; he was now being completely outmaneuvered by a teenager.
"Aren't you all alright now?" the woman said nonchalantly. A little brat, how dare he act like this? So what if he's a duke!
Rice now wished he could slap this woman twice; she was really setting a bad example for him.
Rice glared at the woman, then quickly stood up to apologize, only to find that Cecil's eyes had moved away. Rice followed Cecil's gaze and fixed it on his son.
He thought Cecil liked children, and a glimmer of hope rekindled in his heart. His lips trembled as he said, "This is my son, he's this year..."
Once again, before he could finish speaking, Cecil interrupted again, his tone full of disdain and annoyance: "If that painting gets dirty, your entire family fortune won't be able to pay for it. You should think twice before letting your son touch it."
As if hearing a voice from hell, Rice instantly pulled out a chair and ran towards his son. Just a second before his son was about to touch him, Rice grabbed him and pulled him away.
The whole scene was so comical it was almost laughable. At that moment, Isri pushed out a food cart and gracefully placed the tea set in front of Cesil, pouring in freshly brewed black tea.
The fragrance filled the entire reception room.
"Why aren't ours included?" the woman shamelessly blurted out, making Rice, who was watching from a distance, grit his teeth in anger.
Cecil lowered his eyes, took a sip of tea, and a handsome smile curved his lips as he explained in a calm and unhurried voice, "You are not our guest."
After saying that, he placed the teacup on the plate and said in a calm voice, "Isri, they can go back now."
Islam bowed and said, "Yes."
Sesil got off the stool and glanced at the group of clowns: "Don't let weird stuff in next time."
Isri bowed, a smile playing on his lips. "I understand, young master. I will be careful."
After speaking, when he turned his gaze to Rice, his eyes had already regained their coldness.
"Please come in, the door is over there."
Chapter Twenty-Six
Rice was clearly getting anxious, his eyes darting back and forth between Cesil and Isrith, unsure of where to begin.
“But that title!” Rice cried out, head bowed and eyes closed.
Cecil stopped halfway through his journey, turned around, looked down at Rice, and said softly, "You are not worthy."
A group of pedantic people who only care about their own interests.
Sehir didn't even glance at his subordinates. He went back to his room, snuggled into bed, and fell asleep immediately. Perhaps because he was too nervous, Sehir slept from noon until the next morning.
I groggily opened my eyes and sat up, and heard Isri speak beside me.
"Young master, the Queen has invited you to a noble garden party. I have already prepared your clothes."
Sehir wiped his face with a towel, clearing his head a bit. He glanced at the clothes in Isri's hand and then sat down on the bed.
"Where is it?" Ceshir opened his arms, letting Isri do as he pleased.
Isri smiled with satisfaction, took off one glove, and placed his hand on Sehir's forehead: "By Lake Ossetia."
She then moved her hand away and quietly helped Sehir change his clothes. Lake Osei is a famous swan lake in the West Asian continent and is the current queen's favorite place, so it is not surprising that she chose this place.
—
The cold air outside felt like ice blades cutting into his face, and Cecil quickened his pace to get into the carriage, shrinking himself into a corner.
Lake Osay was not far from the mansion. The streets were covered in white snow from the previous night's snowfall. It had finally warmed up a bit, and Sehir took his hands out of his cloak.
Many people have already arrived at Lake Ossetia, with all sorts of horse-drawn carriages parked in the distance, and food and drinks for the day's visit already laid out by the lake.
Only those granted permission by the Queen were allowed to enter Lake Ossetia, and all the young masters, ladies, servants, and maids were arranged to stay on the outer perimeter.
Having little contact with outsiders, Sehir was a bit flustered. He glanced at Isri standing outside, but then a figure suddenly rushed in front of him.
"Duke Cretis! It's been a long time." The Queen was wearing a white dress today, and her face was still covered by a white veil.
Cecil was startled, but she steadied herself, removed her hat, and bowed, saying, "Your Majesty, you are as beautiful as ever."
Cecil could recite these high-sounding words almost by heart. When the Queen spoke her first words to him, he could already feel the hostile gazes around him, and he couldn't help but click his tongue inwardly.
"Would you like to go boating together?" the Queen invited Sehir, and immediately all eyes, even those on the periphery, turned to Sehir.
After all, everyone in West Asia knows that this queen is notoriously aloof and never smiles at anyone, let alone extends an invitation like this.
Sehir felt uncomfortable being stared at, but he kept the same smile on his face.
“I’m sorry, Your Majesty, please forgive me for not being able to go boating with you today. I have just caught a cold,” Cecil explained, bowing.
Although the people nearby were not speaking loudly, a murmur of surprise could still be heard.
He actually dared to refuse the Queen! What audacity!
Some people were already looking on with anticipation, but the Queen merely frowned slightly, sighed, and said, "Then next time."
“Thank you for your understanding,” Sehir replied.
After the Queen had gone far away, things returned to normal, and Cecil was able to breathe a sigh of relief.
He came to the garden party because he saw the advantage that servants couldn't come in; this was a golden opportunity that he absolutely couldn't waste.
Sehir casually picked up a wine glass from the table, blended into the crowd, and slowly moved towards a less crowded area.
"Duke Cretis, please wait a moment." Suddenly, a voice called out to Cecil from behind.
Cecil frowned slightly, and was about to pretend he hadn't heard anything and continue running away when the voice suddenly grew a few decibels louder, and the ladies next to the voice also looked over.
To avoid drawing attention again, Sesil turned his head away: "What is it?"
Upon seeing Cecil's face, the ladies couldn't resist and all crowded around.
"Your Grace, it's a garden party today, just chatting." The voice squeezed in again.
He was a young master with delicate features and blond hair like Cecil's, but without Cecil's purity. The girls around him all moved away from behind Cecil when they saw him.
"What do you want to talk about?"
"Is that your butler outside? I noticed his gaze was fixed on you." The young master said, a slight smile playing on his lips, as he looked towards Isri on the outer perimeter.
Sehir looked in that direction, his throat tightened, and he instinctively took a step back.
"Is there a problem?" Sehir asked, turning his gaze away.
“No problem.” The young master smiled, a hint of mockery flashing in his eyes: “But for a dog to look at you like that is truly beneath your dignity.”
Cecil frowned slightly, his gaze turning cold. He felt absolutely no liking for the young master in front of him.
“Even if it’s a dog, it’s still my dog, Cretis’s dog. This dog won’t even look at you properly.” Cecil’s gaze turned even colder as he looked at the person in front of him.
"A duke is a duke, even his words are so sharp." The young master laughed instead of getting angry: "I forgot to introduce myself, I am Lin Ge."
As he spoke, Ling turned around and brought out two glasses of wine from behind him, smiling at the girl behind him: "By the way, you can call me Earl Ling."
The girls exchanged glances and then moved a little further away.
Linger handed the red wine in his hand to Cecil: "Why is Your Grace still drinking such childish beverages? This will surely make you want to come back again and again."
Sehir glanced at the red wine in Ling's hand but did not reach for it. Ling's face immediately darkened, a hint of disdain flashing in his eyes, but his voice was extremely aggrieved.