Awakening Love: Reborn to Be His Duchess Chapter 470: The Moment He Rose

Dominic spoke up, his tone firm. "That's hardly fair, Your Highness. The Duke's condition is temporary. He won't rely on that chair forever. And even now, that doesn't mean he cannot take part."

Galen added with a measured sigh, "Still, since Nordia has raised the challenge, if His Grace declines, it may reflect poorly on Avenlor."

The murmurs built, all of them pressing in the same direction. Toward Cassian.

Alaric felt a flicker of satisfaction settle in his chest.

This was exactly how he had planned it.

The banquet, the proposal, the deliberate mention of Cassian, he had set the stage knowing Roderic would take the bait.

And now here it was. What could a cripple possibly do in front of everyone?

The thought nearly made him laugh.

Then Cassian's quiet chuckle cut through the noise.

He set his goblet down with a soft, clean sound.

"A fine idea, Your Highness," he said, his tone steady and unhurried. "If it adds to the evening and serves as goodwill between our nations, it would be poor form for me to refuse."

He placed his hands on the arms of the wheelchair and pushed himself up.

For a heartbeat, no one seemed to understand what they were seeing.

Then he stood.

Straight and steady, his posture unshaken, his presence filling the room as though it had never left.

The dark fabric of his ducal attire fell cleanly, revealing legs that were firm and unyielding.

A wave of shock rippled through the hall.

Several Avenlor officials rose to their feet without realizing it, eyes bright with disbelief and something close to relief.

Across the table, the Nordian delegation stared openly. Roderic's expression froze.

Alaric felt the blood drain from his face.

That's not possible.

His legs were ruined. I saw it. I remember it.

How is he standing right now?

Cassian took a few measured steps forward, as if to make the point undeniable, then let his gaze settle on Roderic. "You wanted a bout. Let's have it."

Roderic hesitated, something unsettled flickering in his eyes as old memories pressed in. "Byron," he said quickly, "you take this one."

Byron blinked, caught completely off guard. Me?

Cassian's voice remained calm. "I hold the rank of duke in Avenlor. If we're to compete, it should be with someone of equal standing."

Roderic's jaw tightened, but no answer came.

Cassian continued, almost conversationally, "No need to tense up, Your Highness. I'm happy to meet you on your own strengths. We could always see who runs faster."

The meaning was unmistakable.

Color rushed to Roderic's face, yet he could not find a single word to throw back.

Cassian's gaze shifted again, landing on Alaric.

There was nothing raised in his voice, nothing overtly threatening, yet the cold edge in his eyes made Alaric instinctively draw back, his throat tightening as he swallowed.

That old fear had never left him.

And now, with Cassian standing whole again, it pressed down harder than ever.

By the time the feast ended and the hall began to empty, the air was filled with praise for Cassian, how he had lost none of his former strength, how he had upheld Avenlor's honor.

Each word grated on Alaric.

Once the others had gone, leaving only his close circle behind, the smile fell from his face. He snatched up a cup and hurled it to the floor, where it shattered against the stone.

Galen and the others lowered themselves at once into deep bows, heads down, not daring to move.

"How did none of you know his legs were healed?" Alaric demanded, his voice sharp with anger. "What good are any of you?"

Silence answered him.

His gaze locked onto Galen, irritation flaring hotter as he thought of Daphne. Without warning, he grabbed a wine pitcher and threw it.

It struck Galen across the head.

The glass shattered, fragments scattering across the floor as blood welled at his brow and ran down, mixing with the last drops of wine.

He did not dare lift a hand to wipe it away.

"You useless fool," Alaric snapped. "Don't tell me you knew nothing."

Galen lowered his head further. "Your Highness, I had heard rumors in recent days. Some claimed it was true, others dismissed it. I did not dare present uncertain information. I meant to confirm it before reporting to you. I did not expect tonight to unfold like this."

Alaric let out a cold, humorless laugh. "You always have something to say, yet nothing ever gets done."

Galen paused, then spoke carefully. "Even so, tonight may not be entirely to your disadvantage."

Alaric's eyes narrowed. "Go on. I'm listening."

"The Duke's recovery has been kept hidden from everyone," Galen said. "Even from you. That raises a question. Does His Majesty know?"

He lifted his gaze slightly.

"His legs have clearly been healed for some time, yet he continued to appear confined to that chair. That could be taken as misleading the king."