The Evil Ladies Form An Alliance

CHAPTER 24: The Tipsy Lady

The hall fell into a heavy, almost tangible silence as the lady entered, her graceful presence commanding attention. The lively chatter of the knights ceased instantly, and a few nearly choked on their drinks, caught off guard by her unexpected arrival.

Valerie, composed and unyielding, strode forward with measured elegance. Her gaze was unwavering, fixed on the chair at the head of the table, a seat reserved for the Marquess, now conspicuously empty. The soft rustle of her ballgown, designed for grand celebrations and utterly out of place in this rugged gathering of warriors, seemed to echo in the vast room. The opulent fabric shimmered faintly in the dim light, a stark contrast to the simple attire of the knights and staff.

Without hesitation, she approached the chair, her every movement deliberate. As she lowered herself into the Marquess's seat, her poise left the staff stunned, their eyes widening at the boldness of her act.

Vice-Captain Enoch, seated mere inches away, shifted uncomfortably. A bead of sweat formed on his temple as the awkwardness of the situation settled over him like a heavy cloak. This was their captain’s chair, a symbol of command and authority—and now, it was occupied by someone they never expected.

"My lady, you’re not supposed to be here," the head chef stammered, his voice hesitant yet respectful. "We can have your meal sent to your quarters instead."

Valerie smiled, her expression warm yet resolute. "It’s alright," she replied, her voice carrying a gentle yet firm authority. "In the Marquess’s absence, I shall take his place. Tonight, I wish to hear of everyone’s triumphs during the subjugation. Your bravery deserves recognition."

Her smile radiated genuine warmth, and the staff couldn’t help but feel a wave of emotion. They were deeply moved by her words and sincerity. The vulnerability in her voice touched something within them. Yet, across the table, the knights exchanged uneasy glances. To them—and especially to Sir Enoch—there was a subtle, calculated edge beneath her kind demeanor. That smile, seemingly sweet and innocent, felt like a veiled mask hiding a deeper intent.

The air was charged with an unspoken tension, a dichotomy of emotions between admiration and suspicion. Valerie’s presence, regal and commanding, was as enchanting as it was unsettling.

"Emma, will you fetch me a glass? I want to share a drink with the great Black Wolves," Valerie said, her voice carrying a hint of defiance and determination.

"Yes, my lady," Emma responded obediently, though a flicker of concern crossed her face as she hurried to comply.

The lively chatter in the hall dissipated almost instantly, replaced by an uneasy silence. The knights exchanged glances, their movements suddenly deliberate, as if any misstep might draw the lady’s attention. Valerie could feel the weight of their unease pressing down on the room, but she chose to ignore it. She poured herself a glass of wine, its deep crimson hue catching the flickering candlelight, and took a sip.

She wasn’t accustomed to drinking, but she forced herself to take another sip and another. Valerie had heard of warriors like Akari Hakasa who could down alcohol by the barrel and remain standing. Yet even with her resolve, the heat of the alcohol began to spread through her body after just one glass.

"Hic! Emma, pour me another," Valerie demanded, her voice slightly slurred but still firm.

Emma hesitated, her brow furrowed. "But, my lady—"

"It’s fine," Valerie interrupted, waving her off.

Reluctantly, Emma obeyed, but as the lady continued to drink, her composure began to slip. Her cheeks flushed a deep red, and her movements grew unsteady. The Knights, who had been cautiously observing, now exchanged worried glances.

"She’s had enough," one whispered.

Sir Enoch, who had been quietly fidgeting in his seat, finally stood and approached. His hesitation was clear as he lingered near her, debating whether to intervene. Each time he stepped forward, Valerie’s commanding presence seemed to push him back. But as she tipped another glass to her lips, he finally reached out and gently grabbed her wrist.

"My lady," he said softly, his voice steady but laced with concern. "I think you should stop now."

Valerie’s turquoise eyes snapped at his, sharp and unyielding. The intensity of her glare made Enoch’s breath catch. At that moment, her piercing gaze was more terrifying than any beast he had faced on the battlefield.

But then, her glare faltered. Her eyes glistened, and tears began to spill down her flushed cheeks. The formidable vice-captain of the Black Wolves froze, utterly baffled by the sight of the lady’s sudden vulnerability. He glanced around for help, but the other knights averted their eyes, unwilling to step into the moment. Emma, standing nearby, had her face buried in her hands, quietly sobbing for her mistress.

"My lady..." Enoch began awkwardly, his voice cracking under the weight of the situation.

Valerie’s voice trembled as she interrupted him. "Why?" she asked, her words choked with emotion.

"W-why?" Enoch stammered, unsure where this was going.

"Why didn’t the Marquess come home with you?" she demanded, her tears now flowing freely.

"The Captain?" Enoch repeated, his confusion mounting. He knew of the strained relationship between the Marquess and his fiance.

She had always kept her distance, rarely even speaking his name. Yet now, she was lamenting his absence.

"W-well," Enoch stuttered, "he said he needed to meet His Grace first. He left a day ahead of us and went straight to the Duke’s territory..."

Valerie let out a frustrated sob, her voice breaking. "It’s so unfair! I prepared so much to look beautiful for that damn man!"

"My lady, please, calm yourself," Enoch pleaded, his hands hovering nervously as if unsure whether to comfort her or retreat.

"He didn’t even respond to my letters!" she cried, her voice rising in pitch.

"L-letters?" Enoch echoed, completely thrown. As far as he knew, she had never written to the Marquess before.

"I even used a red envelope!" Valerie wailed. "I wanted him to know how serious I was, how much I—" Her words dissolved into incoherent sobs.

The hall that had once been filled with tension slowly eased into an odd sense of normalcy. The knights resumed their meals hesitantly, their ears still tuned to the lady’s drunken laments. Meanwhile, Enoch remained by her side, enduring her rambling and vented frustrations. The once-fearsome vice-captain, who had faced countless monsters on the battlefield, now found himself utterly outmatched by a crying, heartbroken woman.