Grand Lust Sovereign-Chapter 66: Eleanor’s Instructions

Argentvale, Silverose Kingdom.

A soft melody drifted through the town square, the gentle notes of a flute blending with the steady strum of a lute. A drummer kept a quiet beat, while a lyre’s chords added a sweet, airy tune.

The music carried on the breeze, light and cheerful, setting the mood of the bustling square.

Shops and stalls lined the cobblestone streets, their awnings bright with color.

The smell of roasting meats and fresh bread mixed with the scent of herbs and spices, filled the air.

At the far end of the square, the king’s palace loomed at the top of a hill, its tall silver spires catching the sun. The grand building watched over the town, a symbol of authority and power.

The common folk, dressed in simple clothes suited to their trades, filled the square.

Farmers in worn tunics, the edges stained with dirt, carried baskets of vegetables. Blacksmiths, their hands still dark with soot, leaned against their carts, talking in low voices. Tailors and weavers wore cleaner but well-used garments, their aprons marked by thread and fabric scraps.

Amidst the crowd, a line of grand carriages rolled by, drawn by powerful horses. Their polished wood shone, crests of noble families proudly displayed on the doors. Curtains draped the windows, hiding the faces inside. Occasionally, a noble would peek out, meeting the curious gazes of the crowd.

A young boy stood beside his grandfather, firing off the endless questions only a curious child his age could ask. The old man answered each one with patience, smiling at the boy’s wide-eyed wonder as he satisfied his grandson’s curiosity.

Their chatter abruptly stopped when the lively music in the town square fell silent, replaced by the low, haunting toll of a distant bell.

"Shhh," the grandfather murmured, raising a hand to quiet the boy.

The child blinked, sensing the sudden shift in the air. His innocent eyes darted around, puzzled by the strange stillness that had settled over the crowd. Before he could ask what was happening, the soft yet steady rhythm of horses’ hooves filled the silence, drawing his attention to what was approaching.

A line of black carriages emerged from the fog at the edge of the square, their dark, polished surfaces gleaming faintly under the midday sun.

The horses, sleek and powerful, moved with a measured grace, their hooves striking the cobblestones with a rhythm that echoed through the now-silent crowd.

Draped in silver and deep violet, the carriages bore no family crest, only the faintest hint of a raven etched into the doors—a mark known to all, but spoken of by few.

The boy’s wide eyes followed the procession, his small hand tightening around his grandfather’s worn fingers. The older man’s face had hardened, a quiet respect mingled with wariness in his gaze.

"Who are they?" the boy whispered, his voice barely carrying over the sound of the approaching horses.

The grandfather hesitated, his eyes never leaving the carriages. "That, lad," he said quietly, "is the Duchess’s family. The ones who hold power beyond the throne."

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The boy blinked, his curiosity piqued. "But if they’re so powerful, why don’t they rule?"

A faint smile tugged at the corner of the old man’s lips. He could answer this wonder-struck child right away, but he shook his head and said, "Some questions are better left unanswered, child. Just watch for now, we’ll talk about this later."

The boy was dejected with such a response and continued to watch the strange carriages pass by.

In one of the carriages, there was a slight gap in the dark curtains. Through it, a cute boy with brownish orange hair peeked at the crowd, specifically at the young boy and his grandfather.

Memories of the past flashed in front of Jackie’s eyes as he watched this pair, of the time when he used to sneak out with his grandpa and roam around the town.

A hint of sadness and nostalgia could be felt from him, and seated beside, Amelia placed her hand on his, and said gently, "It’s okay…"

Jackie’s immersion broke as Amelia conversed. He sighed and shook his head, covering the carriage’s window with the curtain and not looking at the crowd anymore.

The carriage he and Amelia were in was as big as a small bedroom. They had all the space, but Amelia and him were cooped up in a corner to sneakily look at the crowd.

Amelia couldn’t see, so Jackie narrated everything to her as she sat nearby.

"I once had a family like that…" Jackie poured out.

Amelia silently listened.

Realizing he was just about to give out sensitive information, Jackie shook his head and continued, "Nevermind, that’s all history. I’m Master’s sword now, so I’ll focus on that."

"I’m here if you need me," said Amelia and consoled.

It had been half an hour since they left the Ravenwood Duchy. Jackie was normal throughout the journey, but upon arriving in the capital and looking at the massive crowds, his mood suddenly changed.

Amelia didn’t know why he was down, but she wasn’t a nosy person and didn’t try to pry into this matter unnecessarily, leaving Jackie with some comforting words.

"Thank you," Jackie said.

He closed the curtains and laid back on the carriage seat, turning to look at Amelia.

"All of this is so fancy, don’t you think?"

Amelia curtly nodded. "Master probably belongs to a powerful family."

"How powerful could it be?"

"We’ll find out soon."

The two’s conversation slowly drifted towards casual chattering as the common folks went out of their view.

Meanwhile, behind them, in the main carriage, Julien sat beside a veiled blonde beauty in black gothic attire, that being none other than his mother, Eleanor.

Seated opposite was their maid Sophie, holding her mistress’s handbag. She wasn’t in the usual maid attire and instead wore a prim and proper black dress. Her face was covered with a laced black eye mask, something which all servants of the house wore.

Like the two ladies, Julien had his face covered too, with a black mask, bringing forth an aura of mystery around him.

His mother was currently facing him and lecturing on noble etiquette, which was surprisingly easy to learn. It was because the whole summary of it went as:

"There’s a lot of etiquette, but you don’t have to follow any of it. Just remember to call mommy as mother there. Those pesky peasants don’t deserve to hear such a tender and loving word."

’I can smell power from this annoyed comment…’

Julien could tell his family was powerful. How powerful? It was something he would find out soon.

"…and remember…"

Eleanor’s tone turned serious as she peered into her boy’s clear blue eyes.

She held his shoulders and continued, "…you mustn’t go to the after parties or meet any noble in private."

From the way she said it, Julien could tell his mother wasn’t going to take a no for an answer.

He responded appropriately by nodding lightly, but it wasn’t enough as Eleanor shook her head and said, "My dear, I don’t think you understand how serious this is."

Eleanor leaned closer.

"Those guys…" She whispered softly, but firmly. "…they do drugs!"