Lady Class - Chapter 32

As the doors closed, Isman let out a deep sigh.

Matt had barely managed to keep the Lascarton dukedom afloat.

Isman had held things together, but the truth was—Matt had never been a great leader.

His son, however, was different.

Kahn had risen to Vice Commander of the Black Lion Order, proving his loyalty to the royal family from the age of fourteen.

His reputation, network, and leadership had been built through the battlefield—not through inheritance.

In the past year, Kahn had not actively wielded his power as Duke.

Yet, the Lascarton family had prospered because of him.

He was nothing like Warton, whose charisma and luck barely concealed his utter incompetence.

Warton had failed more business ventures than he had succeeded, and his lack of leadership had been obvious to everyone.

There was no one in the Lascarton house better suited for the title than Kahn.

Even Bjorn Windsor, who openly supported Warton, had voted for Kahn when it came time to elect the next Duke.

“Fine,” Isman finally said. “I was wrong. I apologize.”

“Isman,” Kahn called, his voice unwavering.

The elders stirred, their gazes sharp as they glared at him. Their silence held an unspoken accusation—Did you have to take it this far?

Kahn did not waver.

“This power struggle ends here,” Isman continued. “Duke, let us be rational about this.”

“The first in line to inherit the dukedom is Warton,” Isman explained, his voice slow and deliberate.

“But his family has always been aligned with the anti-royalist faction. If Warton takes the title, the Lascarton house will be dragged into a war of factions.”

“Do you intend to tear this family apart?”

Their threats fell on deaf ears.

Kahn was not Matt Lascarton.

“You calculated everything, didn’t you?” Kahn’s voice was sharp.

“You knew this might happen. And yet, you still went ahead with it.”

His cold, cutting stare swept across the elders.

“You fed me drugs, locked me in a room, and tried to force me into breeding with the princess.”

“Tell me, how exactly is that different from treating me like livestock?”

“Duke—”

“Enough,” another elder interrupted. “Isman has already apologized. Let us put this matter to rest.”

A chill settled over the room.

Kahn’s lips curled into a sharp smile.

“Good,” he said smoothly. “It is fortunate that you believe this to be nothing serious.”

The elders tensed at his tone.

Kahn turned to Elder Henry Windsor with a mocking expression.

“I hear Count Brighton is looking for a new wife. Why not send your granddaughter to him?”

“Brighton is nearly sixty!” Henry roared. “Anna is only thirteen!”

Kahn leaned back with an indifferent shrug.

“How odd. I thought the honorable elders would be willing to sacrifice anything for the good of the family.”

His smile deepened, razor-sharp.

“It’s not as if I am suggesting we drug her and throw her into his bed.”

“Duke!”

Kahn leaned forward, his gaze piercing.

“I see now just how much you all care for the Lascarton name. Very well.”

“Let me honor your wishes.”

“Enough!”

Isman snapped.

The severity of Kahn’s rage had exceeded his expectations.

He pressed his fingers against his temple, exhaling sharply.

“Duke, I understand that you are angry,” Isman said. “I swear—this will never happen again.”

For now, Isman needed to de-escalate the situation.

“Tomorrow, I will speak with the royal family. We will have a statement issued to clarify the rumors surrounding the princess.”

“That will not be necessary.”

Kahn’s words stunned them.

Isman had assumed the scandal was purely Princess Iellia’s doing—that Kahn had simply chosen not to interfere.

But now, it was clear—Kahn had known about it all along.

“…What?”

“Then you do intend to marry the princess?” one elder asked, his voice suddenly hopeful.

Kahn’s gaze darkened.

“I will never marry Iellia.”

The elders’ faces contorted with shock.

“Duke, this concerns the princess’s honor,” Isman pressed. “If this story is published, it will ruin her reputation.”

Kahn’s tone was flat.

“Then she will pay the price for her own actions.”

“After all,” he said, eyes gleaming with cold amusement,

“we are already covering up the fact that she drugged and attempted to assault me.”

The room fell deathly silent.

“…What are you thinking, Duke?”

The elder placed a hand on his forehead, sighing as he muttered that he simply could not understand the thoughts of young people.

“Just leave it alone and do nothing. Don’t unnecessarily provoke someone who is staying quiet.”

Kahn’s expression remained cold.

Isman let out a deep sigh and pleaded.

“At the very least, show some respect for the royal family.”

“You are not the one to speak of respect, after throwing that very respect into the gutter and treating the princess as nothing more than a mere harlot.”

“Ugh…” Isman swallowed a groan as he looked at Kahn, who refused to back down.

It was an unsatisfactory outcome, but arguing further would not change anything—he knew he could not win against Kahn. If he pushed too hard, Kahn would only retaliate with equal or greater force.

Kahn stood up from his seat. The elder and Isman, both exhausted, could only let out suppressed sighs.

“Do you think I have any lingering attachment to the ducal house? If you really want to confirm whether I’ll relinquish my title or not, just say the word anytime.”

Then, before leaving, Kahn issued a warning about what he was willing to do.

“If this happens again, I will make sure that every single person in this room pays the price. Since you all claim to be so devoted to the family, I assume you would accept it if your children or wives were sacrificed for its sake.”

“You—!”

“Kahn Lascarton!”

As soon as Kahn left, the elders released the breaths they had been holding. Outside, his waiting retainers and his deputy aide, Hyan, observed the situation inside.

Bjorn clicked his tongue and patted the shoulder of Hyan, whose face had turned pale.

“You really have it rough.”

“What do you mean? It’s Baron Valiant, the chief aide, who has it worse.”

Hyan was Bjorn’s grandson. Though Bjorn had supported another candidate for the duke’s position instead of Kahn, he had not interfered with Hyan’s choice to follow him.

“By the way, where is Baron Valiant? He’s been out of sight lately.”

“The Duke gave orders… so I haven’t seen him recently either.”

Since everyone was aware of the relationship between Bjorn and Hyan, the elders let out deep sighs and grumbled among themselves.

“Sigh, he’s still young, yet he already has such an intense gaze.”

“He was looking at us as if he was ready to devour us.”

Despite their words, Elder Henry turned to Elder Alexander with a knowing look, his expression subtly excited.

“Doesn’t he remind you of Edward Lascarton, the Duke who led the family’s golden era? He had that same imposing presence.”

“Raedus Duke was also a remarkable man.”

Bjorn replied sullenly.

The ducal house still held great influence, but its momentum had waned somewhat after the era of Duke Matt, who had been rather unimpressive.

Elder Henry stroked his beard and subtly sent a warning to Isman.

“Be careful not to act recklessly. I can’t say you handled things well.”

“I understand.”

It was a reminder not to stir up any more incidents that could lead to a change in the duke.

The elders furrowed their brows.

“Hmm, if only he weren’t so stubborn about marriage.”

“Let’s leave him be for now. In the end, he’ll follow our wishes.”

“Isman, we trust you.”

Even though Kahn Lascarton had shouted at them in anger, the elders were satisfied with his strength.

“I’m very curious to see what kind of ducal house he will build.”

 

* * *

 

Wrapped in a shawl, Rackley walked slowly through the garden.

The night air felt warm and humid, making her body tire easily. Yet, breathing it in somehow lifted her spirits.

Since returning to the capital, she had been suffering from insomnia.

Even past midnight, sleep would not come. Her eyelids felt heavy, but the moment she lay in bed and closed her eyes, her mind remained clear.

So lately, she had been wandering around the estate before going to bed. Tonight, she had chosen to take a stroll in the garden.

She was exhausted, yet sleep eluded her.

She didn’t need to search for a reason—she already knew why.

“Kyaa! Ah, my lady!”

Just as she was about to turn back, passing through a path between the shrubs, a startled female voice rang out. The woman’s reaction startled Rackley even more.

A maid stood hesitantly with a male servant. The maid quickly smoothed down her skirt, repeatedly tucking her hair behind her ears. The male servant beside her averted his gaze, refusing to meet anyone’s eyes.

It was obvious what they had been doing—there was no need to ask.

“You’ve been taking strolls lately, but I didn’t expect you to come this way.”

“It’s late. You should both go inside now.”

“Y-yes, my lady.”

The maid and the servant hurriedly scurried off in another direction.

“Why is she wandering around instead of sleeping?”

“If she trips and falls, she’ll just blame us again. Tsk.”

Their grumbling voices carried all the way to Rackley.

“And here I am, still standing right here.”

She sighed at the sight of undisciplined servants.

Deciding to inform the steward about it the next day, she headed back to the mansion. The only good thing about Rowinda’s arrival was that the house had become much brighter.

Before, they had been so frugal that they couldn’t even afford to hire servants, and only a portion of the mansion was in use. As a result, the place had felt cold and desolate. But now, warmth could be felt throughout the house.

‘Father would have wanted it to be like this.’

She chose not to dwell on the practical matters of money required to sustain this newfound warmth.

As she made her way to her room, she saw Rowinda emerging from what had once been her own chamber. Now, it was Edward’s room.

Their eyes met briefly before Rowinda quickly retreated into the marital bedroom.

‘I thought she’d at least say something about me wandering around late at night.’

Rackley entered her room, turned off the light, and lay down on the bed.

The thin summer blanket brushed against her arms and draped over her legs. Though she used it every night, the sensation felt unfamiliar.

Her undergarments felt uncomfortably tight. The chemise pressing against her stomach, the strands of hair tickling her nape—everything felt irritating.

The fleeting touch of fabric against her skin felt almost like a lingering caress.

Letting out a deep sigh, she turned onto her side and closed her eyes.

For no reason, an odd sensation between her legs made her aware of herself. She hadn’t touched herself, yet she felt a subtle tension there.

She knew what her body was longing for.

Gripping her pillow tightly to keep her hands from doing anything reckless, she shut her eyes. But rather than quieting her thoughts, they only seeped deeper into her mind.

It wasn’t something she could simply will away.

 

***

 

“I can’t even put it in, and that’s not good enough.”

Kahn’s voice, low and deep, warmed her ears.

The intense training had never been a one-time thing since she’d given her permission. The sheets stank of sweat and thick ejaculate, but she didn’t feel cold.

Her skin was soaked with sweat and never dried.

She could feel the wet sheets clinging to her skin. As her cooling body heated up again, Kahn straddled her from behind, his erect penis between her wet legs.