[BL] Accidentally Becoming the Healer of the Deranged Archduke novel Chapter 302

Chapter 302: The Consort Protocol

The cold breeze stirred the veil of incense trailing from the brass burners near the banquet edge, filling the grand hall with a fresh fragrance.

It perfectly matched the festive moment, lively enough that Georgie Maximus wore a genuinely delighted smile as he downed yet another cup of the delicious wine.

Savages they may be, but they certainly knew how to brew a drink.

Before returning to Myrthiana, the royal capital, it was best to enjoy a bit more of the chaos.

From his chosen perch on the upper floor, Georgie had the perfect view of Darius’ new husband smiling so foolishly at others without even realizing he was being watched.

His smile only widened as faint whispers floated to his ears.

"It is final then," a lady in a lavish dress curled her lips in disgust as she whispered in her friend’s ears. "His Grace really married a man. I wonder when the next true wedding will be."

From behind the velvet curtain, Georgie nearly let out a laugh. He was also looking forward to that time when Princess Bianca would arrive.

He wouldn’t get to see it unfold with his own eyes, of course. Ah, what a pity...

Just as he was savoring the delightful chaos about to befall that damned devil, a new group joined the two women.

A tall woman dressed in a shimmering emerald gown swirled wine lazily in a crystal glass between her manicured fingers.

She was Lady Anya Hale. The esteemed daughter of Marquis Hale.

If Georgie wasn’t wrong about the information he had received, this Marquis Hale and the royal princess Talia had been in contact recently.

Even when her church was burned in an accident just a few days ago, Her Royal Highness Talia was with Marquis Hale.

The gleam in Georgie’s eyes increased as he strained his ears to catch more voices, and sure enough, he wasn’t disappointed.

Anya’s red lips curved upward as her gaze lingered on the Archduke, who was still surrounded by foreign dignitaries.

"Such a shame..." she murmured to no one in particular, though the group of women and younger nobles standing beside her leaned in instinctively.

"Hmm?" The Baroness of Alenor tilted her head.

Lady Anya’s voice dropped to a soft purr, something that could make people swoon.

"Such a shame that a man like him had to marry so early... though, I suppose—" she paused, her eyes sliding toward Xion talking with the old ministers, "—a healer can be quite persuasive with... the right herbs and moans."

There was a short, sharp laugh among the group before someone coughed intentionally.

The Countess whispered, "Lady Anya ..."

But the Lady raised her well-painted brow, her eyes filled with all false innocence. "What? I’m merely admiring his beauty. Isn’t that what weddings are for?"

Their sips of wine were accompanied by the jeers of laughter.

Then her eyes narrowed slightly. "I think I’ll go offer my congratulations. It’s only proper to greet the new... Lord of Darkhelm." Her voice lingered on the title like it left a bad taste.

And while I’m there, she thought as her wine glass glinted, perhaps I’ll spill just a little wine. White-silver silk can be so... unforgiving.

Her companions exchanged knowing smirks. One muttered after she left, "It is not good to taunt His Grace Xion now."

They all agreed, but no one stopped her. The group followed her from a distance like moths to the flame.

Georgie too followed, just a few steps behind the group. His smile was like a gossiper ready to watch the drama unfold live.

After all, Anya was the eldest daughter of a Marquis. That name alone was enough to walk her out of any trouble. And the Archduke was too far away to even notice anything.

Unaware of the malicious parade heading his way, Xion was still engaged in conversation with the ministers about some fever remedies that could be distributed to the citizens.

His words were the kind that made the older man feel ten years younger.

The rustle of approaching silk went unnoticed until a hand touched his arm, forcing him to turn around.

The fingers that just touched him were delicate and gloved. A ring that glinted with tiny green gems oddly matching Darius’ eyes.

"Your Grace," Lady Anya gave a perfect bow while speaking sweetly, "you look absolutely radiant."

Another added with a smile that didn’t touch her eyes, "No wonder His Grace fell for you. A little temptress they say."

A temptress? What the hell? The words were enough to make Xion’s eyes narrow.

The pause that followed turned the entire circle silent. They look so angry, Xion thought, intrigued by their reactions.

Anya’s chin lifted as if to say, At least you know your place.

"This Lady, whoever you are," he asked with ultimate seriousness, "do you need a remedy for wrinkles around the eyes? The fake smiling can do so much worse, you know. I do have a balm that works wonders for bad expression caused by heartbreak and jealousy too."

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