Obey Me Now

In truth, Amelia knew little about high society or its expectations. Count Cesaret had kept her sheltered, rarely allowing her to leave the estate. Mami, however, had no such illusions about the harsh realities of aristocratic life.

“Do you even know how brutal the social world can be? Banquets aren’t just for laughing and dancing—they’re battlegrounds without swords! One tiny slip, and the salon gossip will tear you to shreds!”

Amelia blinked, startled by Mami’s fervor, half expecting her to start breathing fire.

“If you want His Grace to claim the throne, society’s influence is crucial! If he shows up at the banquet looking like that, it’ll tarnish your reputation as well. Even if they don’t praise him, we need to at least avoid their ridicule!”

“He’d look fine if he just did something about his hair. His eyes are striking. I’d love to see them more clearly.”

“Don’t worry, miss. I’ve worked for the Fioré family for years and take great pride in my skills. I’ll make him presentable—just leave it to me!”

“Thank you… I think.”

Amelia decided it was best not to argue further. Just then, Eclite approached. Although his hair remained untamed and slightly wild, he was now dressed in the attire prepared by the maids. The neatly tailored outfit suited him, highlighting his powerful frame and giving him a more refined appearance. He still seemed uncomfortable, though, as if unused to formal clothing.

Sensing the moment, Mami quickly excused herself, leaving Amelia alone with him. She gave him a soft smile.

“You look handsome.”

Eclite tilted his head, his expression puzzled by her words.

“Do you like these kinds of clothes?”

“Don’t they wear such clothing in the North?”

“In the North, life is harsh and cold. Survival takes precedence. Wearing something like this would get you frozen to death.”

“Oh, I see. But earlier, you mentioned that, um… not wearing anything is a habit of yours?”

“When I’m alone, I prefer to avoid anything cumbersome. Earlier… I apologize. I should have followed proper etiquette and manners. At the banquet, I’ll try my best.”

For a moment, Eclite’s eyes clouded, his expression turning somber. It was obvious—he hated the idea of attending the banquet. His barely concealed reluctance made him look oddly endearing to Amelia.

“Don’t worry too much. All we have to do is announce the marriage,” she said reassuringly.

“I wouldn’t want to tarnish your honor.”

Amelia’s eyes widened at his words.

‘Could he have overheard what Mami said?’

Feeling a twinge of guilt, she quickly shook her head.

“Really, you don’t have to push yourself so hard.”

“It’s not pushing myself. It’s what I want to do.”

Eclite hesitated briefly before murmuring so quietly that she almost didn’t catch it.

“I’d like to look… somewhat presentable.”

“Sorry, what was that?”

Instead of answering, Eclite suddenly fixed his gaze on her. The intensity of his stare made Amelia’s heart flutter inexplicably. He didn’t break eye contact, his blue eyes locked on hers, the silence stretching between them. Unable to handle the weight of his gaze, Amelia finally blurted out:

“Is there something on my face?”

“You said you wanted to see,” he replied.

“Pardon?”

“…It’s nothing.”

Eclite cleared his throat, quickly turning his head away. A faint blush crept onto his face, though he tried to hide it.

At last, the grand banquet at the Fioré estate began. It wasn’t just a celebration but a crucial gathering of the empire’s most influential nobles. At the center of the ballroom stood a golden table, upon which rested three muskets. These firearms symbolized the weapons of the candidates vying for the position of family head, a solemn declaration of their honor and commitment to a fair trial.

The main attraction of the evening was, without a doubt, the candidates themselves. Among them, Mesarina, the accomplished daughter of the Cesaret family, shone the brightest. Her striking red hair cascaded freely, and her daring dress accentuated her figure while her radiant smile dazzled the crowd. From across the room, she exchanged subtle glances with Edzov.

Edzov, a prominent contender for the imperial throne and famously known as the Silver Lion, was a magnet for attention and gossip in high society. Nobles eagerly surrounded him, vying for his favor.

“It’s an honor to see you on such a splendid occasion, Your Grace.”

“Perhaps you have good news to share with us today?”

Edzov responded with a polite, faint smile.

“In fact, I do have some good news to share.”

The nobles leaned in, their eyes wide with anticipation.

“Oh! We eagerly await it!”

Edzov scanned the room casually, but there was no sign of Amelia.

‘Why is she so late? She even refused my offer to escort her. Surely she’s not planning to skip the event…’

Just then, his gaze lit up with satisfaction. Amelia had arrived—and she was stunning.

Her violet hair was styled elegantly, revealing her delicate, white neck. She wore a flowing green silk gown that perfectly complemented her vibrant emerald eyes, the fabric cascading like waves and adorned with intricate lace. Her pale complexion contrasted beautifully with her bold, well-shaped brows, slightly upturned eyes, and soft, peach-colored lips. Though she rarely attended such events, her polished appearance left an undeniable impression.

‘She looks healthy, at least. Good. That’s the bare minimum to be worthy of standing by my side.’

Without hesitation, Edzov moved toward her. Mesarina’s expression twisted with displeasure, while Amelia greeted him with a cool, detached smile, the corners of her lips curling faintly.

“Amelia.”

He called her name softly, reaching for her hand as though it were the most natural thing in the world.

“From now on, let’s tell everyone—”

Smack! Before he could touch her, Amelia slapped his hand away.

“Do not touch me without my permission, Your Grace.”

For a brief moment, Edzov’s anger flashed in his eyes, but he quickly suppressed it, his voice low and warning.

“Stop acting childish.”

“Childish?”

“I understand—you’re still upset. Fine. But let’s talk about that later. This banquet is important for both of us.”

Amelia’s calm, unbothered smile didn’t waver as she replied, “Of course. It’s important because we’re announcing the marriage.”

“Exactly, so—”

Just as Edzov thought she was finally cooperating and reached out again, a sudden commotion rippled through the crowd.

“Oh my, who is that?”

“I’ve never seen him before, but… he’s breathtaking!”

Amelia turned her head to follow the murmurs, but she paused when she caught sight of Edzov’s expression. His face was pale, frozen in an uncharacteristically unguarded look.

‘What on earth is going on?’

At that moment, someone took Amelia’s hand. Startled, she glanced up, and her breath caught as she locked eyes with a pair of strikingly blue irises.

“Not him. Look at me.”

“Clio… Your Grace?”

It was him—but it wasn’t him.

The man before her was mesmerizing. His sharp, chiseled features seemed almost too perfect, his pale, porcelain-like skin glowing under the chandelier light. His jet-black hair was neatly swept back, and under his defined brows, his piercing blue eyes were as deep and cold as an icy sea. Tonight, he wasn’t just present—he was dangerously, almost ethereally beautiful.

For a brief moment, Amelia was entranced. Snapping out of her daze, she opened her mouth to speak, but Edzov’s voice sliced through the air like a blade.

“Eclite…”

“It’s been a while, brother,” Eclite replied calmly, his voice cutting through the stunned silence.

Everyone around them gasped in disbelief.

“Is that… the Monster Duke?”

“How did he get here?!”

Edzov’s jaw clenched tightly, his fury palpable.

“What are you doing here?”

Eclite’s smile was steady and unyielding.

“I came to see my fiancée.”

“What?”

Eclite turned his gaze to Amelia, his voice softening as he spoke.

“Lady Amelia.”

Amelia glanced at Edzov, his face contorted with barely contained rage, before stepping forward. Her voice rang out clear and strong for all to hear.

“I have an announcement to make. With the permission of His Grace, Duke Fioré, I’d like to borrow a moment of your time.”

Edzov glared at her, his fury simmering just beneath the surface. Amelia met his glare with a cool smirk, her confidence unshaken.

“I intend to marry Eclite Riot Clio, the Grand Duke.”

The room fell into a stunned, deafening silence. Gasps and murmurs rippled through the gathered nobles.

“Clio… getting married?”

“Wait, isn’t she from the Cesaret family?”

“What is happening?”

Edzov’s eyes burned with rage, darting between Amelia and Eclite, while Mesarina stood frozen, her shock leaving her speechless.

‘Marrying the Monster Duke? She’s completely insane. But… this might actually work to my advantage.’

“And,” Amelia continued, her steps deliberate and steady as she approached the golden table at the center of the room.

From beneath the folds of her dress, she pulled out a gleaming silver musket and placed it firmly on the table. Her voice carried the weight of unwavering determination.

“I declare my intent to inherit the title of the Fioré family.”

“You!”

Mesarina let out an involuntary shriek, her composure shattering in an instant. Amelia turned to her with a serene, almost taunting smile.

“Don’t cry just yet. Not yet.”

After all, the trigger hadn’t been pulled yet.