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Chapter 51
“Hey, don’t you even know how to greet someone? When you see an adult, you should greet them properly.”
Even though it wasn’t yet time for the meeting, the Marchioness Birua, who had arrived early, scrutinized Knox from head to toe, blatantly giving him a hard time.
“Marchioness, the child is badly injured. Because of the pain from his wounds, he should be excused from greeting.”
“Oh my. Does the Academy teach that a wounded person doesn’t have to observe basic manners?”
“It’s not that…”
The teacher wiped the sweat from their brow, clearly flustered. The Marchioness’s knack for finding fault was extraordinary.
“No, teacher. I will greet her.”
Knox rose from his seat, his leg wrapped in bandages, and performed the greeting. Bark pursed his lips, recalling how Knox had been praised during etiquette lessons for his perfect bow.
Though still a child, Knox’s posture was textbook-perfect. Yet Marchioness Birua scoffed and glared at him.
“Again.”
“Marchioness?”
“Teacher, why are you so surprised? I said his greeting posture is awful, so have him do it again.”
Infuriated by the absurd demand, the teacher stepped in front of the child, but Knox repeated the bow as instructed.
“Again.”
Again, and again. As he bent and straightened his leg, blood began to seep through the white bandages. The teacher, guarding the meeting room, could no longer tolerate the Marchioness’s excessive behavior and raised their voice.
“That’s enough! He’s still a child!”
Grabbing Knox’s shoulder to stop him from bowing again, the teacher forced a strong restraint. Knox bit his lip.
At last, the Marchioness smiled satisfied and waved her hand dismissively.
“Fine, then. If the teacher insists, I won’t demand more greetings. It would just be a mess anyway.”
“Marchioness…!”
“By the way, I sent a guardian attendance request and came all this way. Where is the child’s guardian?”
The corner of the Marchioness’s mouth curled up.
“Surely the child’s guardian didn’t show up?”
“They haven’t arrived yet. They’ll be here soon, right, Knox?”
Knox couldn’t answer. Elaina had told him not to worry, but beyond that, he had no other information.
The Marchioness looked at Knox even more triumphantly.
Indeed, though married to Princess Winchester, Grant was still just Grant. The filthy, vulgar bloodline of a traitor.
There was no way the Princess would intervene in this matter. Rumor had it that Duke Grant didn’t take much interest in his younger sibling’s education.
Which meant that today, at this meeting, no one could stop the obnoxious child from whatever was about to happen.
“Knox.”
The teacher asked with a serious face,
“You’ve informed your family, right?”
Knox barely nodded. The Marchioness burst into a piercing laugh at the sight.
“You didn’t even show them the Academy attendance request, did you? Even if they don’t care about the child’s education, to ignore such violent behavior… I wonder just how low the name of House Grant can fall.”
“Marchioness…!”
The teacher’s face turned pale at her harsh words. They checked Knox’s expression, worried he might get hurt. Knox held back his tears. If he cried in front of Bark, who knew what scolding would come tomorrow.
Then,
“That’s not something you need to worry about, Marchioness.”
The door slid open, and a sharp, commanding voice cut through the room’s air. The startled Marchioness turned to the door. Knox also looked.
Knox’s eyes widened.
Elaina was entering. But she looked so different that Knox barely recognized her. Unlike her usual gentle smile, there was none of it as she stepped into the room.
Knox swallowed hard. He glanced at Bark and the Marchioness. He wasn’t the only one afraid—both of them were pale.
She had only entered the room. She hadn’t said a word. Yet it was obvious who now controlled the atmosphere.
“I’m a little late. I had matters to attend to.”
Her tone wasn’t apologetic at all. The teacher hurriedly responded.
“Oh, it’s fine. The Marchioness just arrived.”
“I see.”
Elaina, seated on the sofa, crossed her legs. From morning, she had endured Sara fussing over her and had dressed elegantly from head to toe. She looked even more polished than on her debutante day.
“You know the key to winning a fight is to dominate from the start, right? I’ll apply makeup heavily, maybe even excessively.”
Hearing Knox’s story, Sara raged with righteous indignation. The vibrant, peacock-like makeup made Elaina’s expression even colder and more intimidating.
Elaina silently stared at the Marchioness. Though the Marchioness held her gaze, she was the first to look away.
“Then, shall we start the meeting now?”
“Wait, teacher?”
Elaina raised her hand, interrupting the teacher. Smiling, she said,
“I am here today as the Duchess Grant, so as Knox’s guardian.”
“Yes, we know.”
The teacher’s flustered response made Elaina’s smile curve even more. Her gaze shifted to the Marchioness.
“For someone who has been in high society for a long time, it would be problematic to act so ignorantly, wouldn’t it, Marchioness?”
“W-What do you mean?”
“Didn’t I just say I’m here in the capacity of the Duchess Grant?”
Still not understanding, the Marchioness prompted a sigh from Elaina.
“Have you forgotten that my husband, Duke Grant, holds the right to the throne?”
Finally, the Marchioness understood what Elaina meant.
Duke Grant’s title itself was not impressive—it was nominal. Besides, the Crown Prince and other royal descendants were young and active. Even if Duke Grant held succession rights, it meant little.
But the critical point was that he did hold succession rights.
Though he had no fief, the Emperor granted him the Mabel mountain region. Unlike other titles, a Duke could make the land independent as a ‘Duchy.’ Even if the land was infested with monsters, it didn’t matter.
In short:
When dealing with Elaina Winchester—no, Elaina Grant—one must observe royal etiquette.
Elaina raised an eyebrow and looked at the Marchioness. Reluctantly, the Marchioness rose.
“M-Mother!”
Bark looked shocked at his mother.
Elaina’s fierce gaze softened slightly. Sitting back on the sofa, she crossed her legs and smiled gently.
“Ah, so the Marchioness does know etiquette after all.”
The Marchioness bit her lip and knelt slowly to show respect.
Elaina stared coldly at her.
When the Marchioness raised her head again, Elaina shook her head and spoke.
“Your greeting posture is terrible, Marchioness. Bow again.”
“W-What did you say?”
Being humiliated by a child, the Marchioness felt like she was suffocating.
“Why? Does it feel bad because you’re on the receiving end? I agree with you—if your posture is poor, it reflects badly on your household education. Should the Marchioness of House Birua bear such a disgrace?”
While forcing a child to repeat his greetings, Elaina asked coldly if a single extra bow would make her feel bad.
Her gaze shifted to Knox’s lap. Blood had seeped through the bandages; even ten more bows wouldn’t suffice.
The Marchioness bit her lip until it bled, yet she had no choice. She had started the argument over Knox’s etiquette, after all.
Feeling her son’s shocked gaze, the Marchioness could do nothing but bow once more toward Elaina.
