Chapter 412: A Surprise at the Table
A Surprise at the Table
"Welcome, Lady Natasha. Lady Sona."
Nova’s voice boomed through the courtyard like a sword covered in velvet—smooth and silky, yet with the steel of determination underneath.
Natasha and Sona stood still for a moment when they heard it. They raised their eyes to her, and stunned quiet ran across their faces.
This was not the Nova they had known.
The woman they recalled—the Duchess of Blackthorn—had been a hard woman, battle-seasoned, face normally chiseled from stone. She was the kind whose smile was rarer than snow in midsummer. And here she was standing before them, green eyes unflinching, lips curled with something unmistakable: a smile.
Sona blinked, her silver eyelashes flapping in disbelieving crack of calm. Natasha, however skilled at concealing her reactions, saw her poise warp under the pressure of the sight. She had known Nova long enough to recognize that there was some softness hidden beneath the cold surface, but to see it laid bare so thus. that was something else.
Yet neither of them lost their honor. The two shared a look, tacitly agreeing that surprise should not betray them. Then they nodded politely and returned warm smiles.
"Thank you, Lady Nova, for coming personally to greet us," Natasha said first, her voice respectful, reflective.
Sona chimed in, her voice more light but still firm, "Yes... we welcome the greeting."
Nova’s smile remained, soft but sure. "No thanks are necessary. When he asks, I obey. Come in. We’ll talk more at ease there."
Her hand waved toward the massive doors of the mansion. The firmness in her tone gave no opportunity for denial, yet her voice was still soft.
"Of course," Natasha answered.
"Very well," Sona said, angling her head with a little smile.
The Duchess herself swung about, her black ponytail fluttering as she walked towards the mansion with deliberate steps. Natasha and Sona trailed behind her. The three women, all beautiful in their own right, moved together through the courtyard—a vision of poise and strength that caused each guard to stand up a little straighter.
When the huge doors engulfed their silhouettes, silence again descended upon the courtyard. The guards moved uncomfortably. Some threw furtive glances at each other, the question searing unspoken: Who were these two new visitors?
But none of them dared to speak the idea. That was not for them to do. Shortly, Blackthorn’s discipline was back in place. They took up their patrol, their boots ringing off the stone, footsteps firm and precise as they re-wove the security net around the mansion.
Within, comfort and opulence awaited the three women. They came into one of the estate’s largest dining halls, where a colossal carved table ran like the room’s spine. Its wood seemed to radiate in the light of a stunning chandelier that was shaped like a cluster of crystalline wings. Softly floating magical lamps emitted golden glow. In the middle of the table was a lavish display of enchanting fruits and flowers, scenting the air with a pale fragrance.
The table was alive with women.
Each seat appeared occupied with loveliness: Lady Rias with her golden red hair in flowing tresses and blazing eyes, her self-assurance absolute; Lady Aria, imperial in her violet hair and commanding stare; Lady Cynthia, tranquil, her dark eyes calm as quiet water; Lady Syra and Lady Kyra, both with green hair, their presences like double forces of nature—one mischief-loving, one keen. Lira, silver-haired and ethereal, exuded still elegance; Tsubaki, knightly and disciplined, her demeanor upright even when resting; Mia, demure and soft, her black eyes cast downward as if they held seas.
Of them, the five black-haired maids—Fey, Rui, Mona, Lena, and Mira—glided like silken shadows, meeting every need with fluid ease. Lilyn, the soft head maid, choreographed with her golden-brown hazel eyes, and tiny Chloe, wide-eyed and pure, roamed on a tray in her diminutive hands, willing to serve.
Chatter filled the air, clinking cutlery, and the comfort of routine warmth. And at the head of the table, the seat of authority, an empty space waited.
Rias played with a curl of red hair around her finger as she looked at Mia. "Where’s Father and Sister Cassidy? Don’t tell me they’re still sleeping?" Her red eyes sparkled with a teasing sheen.
Syra’s smile broadened right away. "Perhaps they’re occupied with some. naughty research." She drew out the word with a sly intonation that caused a few maids to curb their giggles.
Mia’s face flushed scarlet. She looked away hastily, not daring to look at them. "If Mother is content, then I am content as well. So don’t ask such things," she breathed faintly, her words barely audible.
The table erupted in laughter. Even Cynthia’s composed lips curved slightly, and Kyra hid a smile behind her hand.
"Liar," Syra teased, her green eyes sparkling with mischief. "You look like you’ll faint just from saying that."
Before Mia could sink further into embarrassment, another question rose. Aria scanned the table, noticing the absence.
"And speaking of missing sisters," she said smoothly, "where’s Nova? Strange, she isn’t here yet..."
Heads swiveled, some of the maids glancing at each other, some scanning the room automatically.
"Perhaps," Aria went on with a wicked grin, "she is on her way—"
The sentence never ended.
The big double doors of the room swung open with a booming, stretched-out creak. The noise brought every eye in the room to the doorway.
And there she stood.
Duchess Nova, standing tall, her long ponytail swaying, her green eyes sharp yet softened with warmth. She stepped into the dining hall, gaze sweeping over her sisters.
"I was on my way," she said with a smile, her tone carrying a teasing edge, "but it seems I’ve already arrived, Sister Aria."
The tension broke in an instant. Smiles bloomed across faces, voices rose in welcome.
"Oh, Sister Nova!" Rias smiled, her red eyes shining. "Finally. You’ve made us wait."
Nova bowed her head politely. "You’re welcome, Sister Rias."
She walked to the table but did not take a seat. Her footsteps led her instead to Lira. The silver-haired beauty leaned her head, her cold-blue eyes squinting with curiosity.
"What is it, Sister Nova? Am I looking odd today?" Lira inquired, raising one brow.
Nova smiled wryly. "No. You look as beautiful as ever."
"Then why are you grinning at me like that?" Lira demanded, her distrust intensifying.
The Duchess’ smile deepened. "First, tell me this, Sister Lira. Do you like surprises?"
A whisper circulated around the table. A number of women arched their brows. Surprise was not something one would ever hear issued from Nova’s lips.
Lira’s eyes blinked in surprise. Her icy-blue eyes flickered, then softened as the hint of a smile tweaked the curve of her lips. "Of course, I love surprises. But why would you want to know?"
"Then." Nova raised one hand elegantly, pointing the direction she had just come from. ".this one is for you."
All heads swiveled simultaneously. Eyes locked onto the now open doorway.
At first, there was nothing.
Lira’s brows were furrowed as silence lingered. She spun back around to Nova, confusion darting across her face. "Sister Nova, are you kidding me? Because—"
Her voice expired in her throat.
Her mouth opened, but she made no sound. Her breath hitched, chest rising sharply. And it wasn’t just her.
Gasps and open eyes rippled like a sea across the room. One after another, each woman at the table froze, their faces paralyzed in shock. Rias’ red eyes widened, Aria’s smile froze mid-beam, Syra and Kyra sat forward in shock. The maids too, who never wavered, stumbled with plates shuddering in their hands.
Each one of them—except for Nova—shared that same expression of shock.
And into the quiet, the surprise entered through the door.