The Marquis They Threw Away

Chapter Five: The Little Tyrant Strikes Again

Skyfall Palace sat at the very heart of the royal grounds, the core of the whole capital. It was named after King Cassian Skyfall, and it was where every major event in Morrow was held.

Today marked the engagement of the eldest princess to the prodigy of the Starlight Order, and the entire kingdom was celebrating. An occasion this grand had drawn every important figure in Morrow. No one of consequence was missing, from the high nobles of the capital to the kingdom's most powerful ministers.

Gideon had shed his old uniform. Dressed in a violet robe, his hair bound beneath a jade crown, he looked up at the sky with the bearing of a much younger man.

Dark brows, sharp eyes, a strong jaw set with quiet confidence, sun-bronzed skin carrying an air of iron resolve — every motion he made spoke of quiet authority.

He walked with the stride of a warrior, standing out on the crowded streets of the capital like a hawk among sparrows. His bearing, his posture, the sharpness in his eyes, and his striking good looks drew admiration from everyone who saw him pass. He looked like a man who'd stepped straight out of a portrait.

Wren followed close behind, dressed in red, her figure and her striking eyes catching the gaze of every man they passed. But she had eyes for only one person — her young master.

With a touch of makeup, she was elegant yet playful, composed yet magnetic, graceful as any noblewoman, calm as a young maiden. Even walking beside a man like him, she showed not a trace of timidity. Together, the two of them turned heads wherever they went.

"That man is unbelievably handsome, and the way he carries himself..."

"He looks just like the Champion Marquis! My god, it really is him. I saw him once, in full armor — he looked like a god of war. He's completely different today."

"Shame a man like that turned into a washed-up cripple. I heard he even broke off his engagement to the princess. His days ahead won't be easy."

Gideon heard every word of it and only smiled, unbothered.

The palace gates rose ahead of them, magnificent and imposing, guarded by dozens of armored soldiers.

Grand carriage after grand carriage rolled up, carrying invitations, as the high nobles and officials of the capital passed through the gates with gifts for the engagement celebration.

Gideon walked on and soon reached the entrance.

"No unauthorized persons beyond this point," a guard captain barked at him.

Gideon smiled bitterly. The once-mighty Champion Marquis had become nobody at all. There had been a time when every guard at this gate would drop to their knees the moment they saw him coming, too afraid to even lift their heads.

"Are you blind? Do you really think you can stop my young master?"

Wren's temper flared. She couldn't bear to watch him suffer even the smallest slight.

The captain gave a short laugh. "Forgive my bluntness, but Morrow no longer has a Champion Marquis. Today is the engagement of the princess and the prodigy of the Starlight Order, Kellan Vane. If you want inside, you'll need an invitation."

A man without power really was treated worse than a dog. Gideon's own life proved it well enough.

"Well, well. Isn't this our old Champion Marquis?"

Just as Gideon was reaching for the invitation, a mocking voice rang out from nearby.

Four young men in fine clothes strolled over at a leisurely pace, folding fans in hand.

Gideon looked them over and recognized all four at once.

They were the four notorious young masters of the capital — sons of the Royal Tutor, the Minister of War, and the Fifth and Sixth Princes.

The four of them were well known throughout the capital for bullying anyone beneath them, riding on the strength of their fathers' names.

There had been a time when the one person these four feared above all else was the Champion Marquis. Even as young men, the gap between them and him had been too wide to measure. His reputation alone had been enough that even their fathers hadn't dared cross him, let alone their sons.

But today was different. To them now, the title Champion Marquis was nothing but an empty skin with no tiger left inside it.

"Champion Marquis? Come on, Leland, Morrow doesn't have any Champion Marquis anymore. This is just Gideon Hale, the washed-up nobody, standing in front of us."

"That's right. This is a sensitive part of the palace. Ordinary people aren't allowed anywhere near it, let alone a nobody."

Trading jabs and laughing among themselves, the four young men closed in on Gideon and looked him up and down. One of them let his gaze settle on Wren, licking his lips, making no effort to hide what he was thinking.

"As expected of the Champion Marquis. Even crippled, he's still got a beauty like this on his arm. Lucky man."

Disgust flashed across Wren's face.

"Out of the way. Even a stray dog knows better than to block the road."

"Ha! This little firecracker's got some spirit. I like her already."

Rutger Voss, the Minister of War's son, was infamous throughout the capital for chasing after every pretty face he saw. There had been a time when he wouldn't have dared even glance at a maid standing near the Champion Marquis. But things were different now. What was Gideon's standing worth these days, compared to his?

As he spoke, Rutger reached out and ran a finger along Wren's cheek.

Gideon shook his head, almost pitying him.

"Go easy."

"Don't worry, my lord, I'm always a gentleman with the ladies, ah—"

Before Rutger could finish, a scream tore out of him. Only then did he understand that Gideon's warning hadn't been meant for him at all. It had been meant for the woman standing in front of him.

Wren had shattered his hand without a flicker of hesitation.

The broken hand was only the start. She followed it with a kick straight to his groin that sent him flying backward several feet.

Rutger hit the ground with one hand ruined, using the other to clutch himself as blood soaked through his robes.

A collective wince ran through the crowd. The other three young men flinched and instinctively covered themselves, and even a few of the guards felt a phantom ache in sympathy.

That man was finished. Whether he lived or not, that part of his life was over.

"Gideon Hale, you... you dare lay a hand on one of us!"

Leland Cross, the Royal Tutor's son, went red with fury, jabbing a finger at Gideon even as his feet carried him backward on their own. Gideon might be crippled, but the woman beside him was simply too dangerous. None of them could match her.

"What are you all standing around for? Seize him!" one of the princes shouted at the row of soldiers nearby.

He was a prince of the realm, and the guards didn't dare disobey. In an instant they closed in around Gideon and Wren.

"If you don't want to die, get out of my way."

A cold light entered Gideon's eyes. He'd long since run out of patience for a pack of nobodies trying to push him around.

"Gideon Hale, you crippled the Minister of War's son. You're finished. This young lord will make sure you—"

Crack!

Before Leland could finish his threat, a red blur appeared in front of him like a ghost and slapped him flat to the ground.

"Break their legs," Gideon said, calm as ever.

"With pleasure, Young Master."

Wren moved fast. Two stomps, and Leland's legs gave out with a sound like snapping branches, his screams echoing off the palace walls.

The two princes fared no better. Wren pinned them to the ground and broke both of their legs in turn, showing no more mercy than she had the others.

She truly was a little tyrant when she wanted to be.

Gideon pulled out the invitation, tossed it into the guard captain's face without a second glance, and walked through the gates without looking back.

Wren clapped the dust off her hands and fell into step beside him.

The remaining soldiers, sweat soaking through their backs, didn't dare so much as lift a hand to stop them.