The Grand Duke's Son Is A Heretic

TAP! TAP! TAP!

Adele's heels echoed through the dimly lit corridor like a metronome of restrained rage. The walls, covered with faded emerald drapes, vibrated faintly with each of her steps. Her long coat fluttered behind her as she reached a tall, iron-bound door nestled at the farthest end—a room deliberately cut off from the rest.

CRIMG!

The iron handle groaned in protest as she flung the door open. Inside, the space was small and bare, lit by a single hanging lantern swaying above, casting warped shadows on the stone walls. In the center sat a young woman, her crimson-red hair like a splash of blood against the muted gloom. Her wrists were tied, her body still—but her golden eyes locked onto Adele with calm precision, not an ounce of fear flickering in them.

She sat upright, back straight, as though she were waiting for tea to be served, not captured and chained.

Adele's eyes lit with fury the moment she saw her.

"I never thought," she hissed, each step forward like the toll of a warning bell, "I would see you here..."

Her voice dripped with venom. Her gaze burned with contempt.

How could she not recognize her?

That same face—soft, elegant, obedient, always hovering at Kael's side, always so quiet, so polite. When Adele had struck the hideout, tearing it down like a storm, she'd been stunned to find this girl among the wreckage, half-buried beneath debris.Without any hesitation she'd ordered her seizure immediately.

This was Kael's maid. His shadow. And now her hostage.

But that blank, icy expression… that unshaken calm… it stoked Adele's fury like pouring oil on flames.

She stormed forward and grabbed Lyria's face with one hand, her fingers digging cruelly into her cheeks, forcing her to meet her glare. Her nails scraped skin.

"Where is Kael?" Adele asked in a harsh whisper, eyes sharp as blades.

Lyria blinked slowly, her voice barely a whisper.

"I... I don't know."

Adele's eyes twitched.

"What did you say?" she spat, her grip tightening. Lyria's pale skin reddened beneath her fingers.

"You said you don't know… when both of you disappeared from the Northern Lands?" she growled, voice rising, body trembling with tension. "This isn't a joke, girl. If you don't talk—"

A sudden flare of violent intent exploded from her.

"—I will kill you!"

Her power surged. The very air around her twisted. A pulse of pressure radiated outward, shaking the room's foundation. The lantern above swayed violently, casting mad shadows across the walls. Dust rained from the ceiling, and the stone floor groaned beneath invisible weight.

Still… Lyria didn't flinch.

Her golden eyes didn't avert. Her breathing was even. Her voice, soft yet steady, remained the same.

"I really don't know."

That answer—and the terrifying sincerity in it staggered Adele. For a brief second, she was lost. Lyria didn't look like someone lying. Her eyes held no flicker of trickery. Only a haunting stillness.

Adele's rage doubled, even as confusion took root in her chest.

"I'll kill you," she hissed, raising her other hand. Winds swirled around her palm, compressing violently—forming a sphere of dense air that warped the space around it.

Just as she began to swing it down—

"My lady, stop!!"

A voice screamed from the hall outside.

The door flew open as a soldier stumbled in, panic etched across his face.

Adele's hand, still crackling with compressed air, froze mid-air as her sharp gaze darted to the entrance.

THUMP! THUMP!

Boots echoed hurriedly, and in came Benrad, his expression tight with panic. Sweat beaded on his brow as he dropped to one knee, breathing heavily.

"My Lady, you can't kill her!" he blurted, his voice laced with urgency.

Adele narrowed her eyes. "Why not?" Her tone was like ice skimming over steel.

Benraed lifted his head, gulping. "His Highness has given strict orders—under no circumstances is she to be harmed."

That answer made Adele pause. Her eyes flickered with confusion, then narrowed sharply again.

"...Is there any contact between my brother and Prince Rein?"

Benraed's head shook immediately. "No, none. This wasn't from Prince Rein." He hesitated, then added, "It came from the Princess."

Adele's brows furrowed deeply. "Her Highness?" she whispered, almost to herself. Then, slowly, she turned back to Lyria, who still sat calmly, her hands bound, her crimson hair a halo in the flickering lantern light.

"You seem to possess quite a value after all..." Adele's voice was softer now, but far more dangerous. "Even if I can't kill you… doesn't mean I won't torture you."

She stepped close again, eyes glowing with cruel intent.

"Tell me where Kael is."

Lyria finally looked up again, her golden eyes meeting Adele's without flinching. "I don't know," she said calmly.

Then, after a breath, she continued. "In the north, we encountered cultists. Master disrupted their plans and fought them off. During the battle, a bright light enveloped us. When I woke, I was in a forest, disoriented... and then Her Highness found me and took me in."

Outside the room, if Kael had been standing nearby, he might've dropped dead from shock.

That wasn't just talking that was elaborate, composed lying.

He would have been convinced someone switched her with a master tactician in disguise.

But inside the cell, Lyria's voice remained steady, her expression unreadable. There was no trace of deception, no visible twitch of guilt. Nothing to catch onto.

Adele stared at her, brows knitting tighter, trying to parse the truth from fiction. But… she felt nothing.

There was no fear,no panic nor any hesitation.

Just that maddening calm.

With a scoff, Adele turned, folding her arms.

"Hmph. Since it's come to this, I won't lay a finger on you," she muttered.

"But," she added, with a cruel smile, "that doesn't mean I can't use you for my plans."

Then, louder, with a commanding voice: "Bind her properly. We leave immediately."

Benraed blinked in shock. "What? My Lady—you're leaving?"

"I don't have time to waste." Adele's tone was final. "I have other matters to deal with. Prepare my entourage at once. I'm taking her back to my fiefdom."

Benrad hesitated, then quickly bowed. "As you command."

The soldiers moved swiftly, reinforcing Lyria's bindings, though she did not resist. She simply looked ahead, silent, as Adele stood tall beside her.

Outside, the sound of marching boots and horses being prepared filled the corridor.

Adele's eyes gleamed with something colder than fury now—calculation.

'Let's see,how long your calm lasts when I tear your world apart piece by piece.'