Mated to the Mad Lord-Chapter 256: What did you do?

The air in the grand hall was thick with tension, the kind that made breathing feel like swallowing glass. A heavy silence hung over the room, pressing down on everyone inside like an impending storm. At the center of it all stood Fiona, trembling like a leaf caught in a vicious wind.

Her long black hair, usually so neatly braided, had fallen loose around her face, strands sticking to the tear-streaked skin of her cheeks. Her wide, doe-like eyes, red and swollen from crying, darted between the faces of those gathered—her father, the lords, Harriet—all of them staring at her, waiting for her to say something, anything, that made sense.

But nothing made sense.

She clutched her stomach with both arms, fingers digging into the fabric of her dress as though she could hold herself together through sheer force. The weight of their expectations crushed her, but none of them understood.

None of them knew.

"Hey!" Harriet’s voice snapped like a whip, cutting through the oppressive silence.

Though her tone was lower than before, her fury burned just as fiercely. Her tall, imposing frame seemed even more intimidating now, her body stiff with barely restrained rage. Her sharp green eyes gleamed with a mixture of frustration and disbelief as she took a single step forward, her short auburn curls bouncing slightly.

"...Forget whatever they told you! You’re safe!" Harriet’s words came out clipped, her lips twisting in barely suppressed anger.

She was furious—not just at Fiona’s words, but at her demeanor, the way she was practically cowering behind Fervor, as if he were some sort of shield. It made Harriet’s stomach churn with disgust.

"Don’t pay him any mind and listen to your father! He knows—"

Before she could finish, Fiona burst into loud, wrenching sobs, her entire body wracked with violent tremors.

Her delicate shoulders shook as she gasped and stuttered between hiccupping breaths, her small hands tightening around her stomach like she was afraid something would be ripped away from her.

"Pl-please!" she choked out, her voice broken, shattered. "I—I would rather stay in William’s district!"

Gasps rippled through the room.

Harriet’s eyes widened in pure disbelief. Magnus and Grainger, who had been biting their tongues up until now, finally lost their patience.

"What the heck did he do to you?!" Magnus snarled, stepping forward aggressively. His thick arms tensed, veins bulging as if he were seconds away from storming out and hunting William down from the dead.

Magnus was not a man known for his patience. His rugged, battle-worn face, usually hard as stone, twisted into something close to rage as his piercing gray eyes locked onto Fiona.

"Fiona! You’re clearly not thinking straight!" Grainger interjected, his voice sharp, edged with worry. He wasn’t as physically imposing as Magnus, but his presence was just as commanding. His neatly tied-back blond hair and well-pressed uniform made him look every bit the composed leader he usually was—but right now, his fingers were twitching, his composure cracking.

But Fiona didn’t respond.

She simply shook her head, her body going eerily still. Her gaze remained fixed on the floor, tears continuing to drip down her face like a leaking faucet.

The silence that followed was deafening.

Then, finally, Fervor spoke.

"You heard her!" he declared loudly, his voice ringing with authority. "She’s staying with me!"

The room turned on him in an instant.

A wave of furious, incredulous glares was thrown his way, but Fervor didn’t care. Let them stare. Let them burn holes into him with their gazes. As long as they didn’t try to pull any dirty tricks, they could glare all they wanted.

The dark-haired man stood tall, his sharp, aristocratic features impassive. His midnight-blue coat, adorned with intricate silver embroidery, only made him appear more regal, more untouchable. His piercing obsidian eyes—eyes that betrayed nothing—swept over the room, meeting every challenge with quiet defiance.

But then, from the corner of the hall, Eldric finally stirred.

He had been watching everything in silence, his presence almost forgotten.

Now, as he took a step forward, a ripple of unease ran through the crowd.

Unlike the others, his face bore no anger, no fury. There was no hatred in his features, no clenched fists or flaring nostrils. Instead, he looked... calm. A faint, unreadable smile played at the edge of his lips, making his expression all the more unsettling.

"Fiona." His voice was soft, gentle. It carried none of the aggression the others had shown.

He moved toward her slowly, his every step careful, calculated.

Fiona tensed, her breath catching in her throat as Eldric approached. Even though she hated the idea of standing any closer to him, she hated even more that Fervor—the one she trusted—was now in front of her, blocking her from view.

"Can—can we talk?" Eldric asked. His tone remained light, coaxing.

Fiona flicked her eyes up at him for only a moment before dropping them back to the floor.

"Just for a—"

But this time, Fervor didn’t stay silent.

The moment Eldric took another step forward, Fervor moved—stepping directly in front of him, his imposing figure standing like an immovable wall.

"No," Fervor said coolly, his expression stone-cold.

His voice was neutral, but his eyes—his eyes burned. They smoldered with unspoken hatred, directed solely at Eldric.

"Whatever you want to say... you can say it here."

Eldric paused, but he did not argue.

Instead, he smiled again. A slow, knowing smile that made something uneasy coil in Fervor’s stomach.

Very well, Eldric thought. We can speak here.

Then, his expression changed—his soft demeanor sharpening like a dagger.

His eyes locked onto Fiona, and this time, his voice was not soft. It was fierce.

"William hurt you!" He didn’t phrase it as a question. It was a fact.

Fiona flinched, but Eldric pressed on.

"You may not believe it, but it’s true! What makes you think Fervor won’t do the same?!"

Fiona shuddered, but still, she remained silent.

"They are just using you!" Eldric insisted, his voice nearly cracking with emotion. "I watched you grow up! I could never hurt you!"

Finally, finally, Fiona responded.

"Yes, Father..." she whispered.

Her voice was so small, so broken, that it might as well have been nonexistent.

"Fiona!" Eldric called again, louder this time.

But the moment his voice rose, Fiona flinched violently, her entire body jerking back.

The reaction made everyone in the room exhale deeply.

A silent, mutual understanding passed through them all.

Nothing they said would change her mind.

Eldric clenched his fists, but he did not push further.

Instead, he turned his burning gaze onto Fervor, his fury simmering just beneath the surface.

"If you hurt her again..." Eldric’s voice was low, dark—so dark it sent a shiver through the room.

"I’ll find you." His lips curled, his eyes flashing.

"And I’ll kill you."

The words came out calmly, like there was nothing empty about them...just the way a caring father would.

Fervor’s expression didn’t change. He simply turned away, addressing the other lords instead.

"If that is all, then I’ll—"

But before he could finish, Harriet slammed her hands against the table, making the entire hall shudder.

"Of course not!" she barked, her voice booming. "What do you take us for?!"

Her brown eyes were alight with unforgiving rage.

This wasn’t over.

Not even close.

"The pregnancy test! For all we know, she might not be pregnant at all!" Harriet had gone as far as to call her own doctor to ensure that things went exactly how she expected them to.

"I already called a doctor!" she snapped at the guard who stood behind her, who instantly moved toward the door to open it.

But he had just opened it when everyone was surprised to see more than three people standing at the door wearing doctor jackets.

Fervor spoke just as they took in the scene.

"I brought my own doctor and enough equipment and evidence that your doctors can read! There’s no need to touch her!" he said, even as he continued to keep Fiona behind him.

He was especially wary of Eldric, whom he expected to make a move, only for him to continue to stand by the side with a sad look on his face but otherwise doing nothing else.

Fervor gestured toward the doctor he brought, who carried a bunch of files in his hands, which he instantly began to pass around with a low bow of his head.

His lord could act out, but he didn’t dare to, as he instantly moved back to his position by the door the second he was done.

"In your hands is the evidence you need! If you need her urine as evidence, I can send each of you a vial. If you need more...I can send a bottle!"

The fact that he said it with a completely straight face made the tension in the air increase, as none of the guards who stood behind their lords so much as dared to crack a smile.

But Fervor was still speaking when he suddenly saw Eldric dash forward, throwing himself at Fiona and hugging her.

Fervor instantly reacted by dashing forward, intent on ripping them apart, only for Eldric to lean back the second he had moved to pull him off, evading Fervor with a soft smile on his face even as warning bells went off in Fervor’s head.

"Relax! I’m just giving my daughter a goodbye hug!" Eldric said out loud, his smile unwavering.

And while everyone else saw it as normal, Fervor couldn’t help but go completely still, confident that Eldric had done something.

He just didn’t know what!