Duke Aemon Drago said nothing at first.
He simply stood, towering, regal and iron-still, his eyes flicking over the group—measuring, dissecting, dismissing.
The knight at his side didn't move, but his hand rested near the hilt of his sword, just in case.
Then the Duke's gaze locked back on Derek.
"So this," he said coldly, "is what you've chosen instead of your duty."
His voice was low and razor-sharp, like frost creeping through bone.
"A runaway, over twenty, who abandoned his house, his training, and his title… to join a band of misfits and fools."
The silence in the chamber grew heavier.
Bob stepped forward, fists clenched. "Hey, you can't just—"
But the moment he moved, the Duke's aura pressed out.
Not magic—will.
Pure presence.
Bob froze in place. He couldn't lift his arms. Could barely breathe.
The room felt like a sealed vault.
Even Dusty, curled in Bob's cloak, lifted his head just to fall back asleep with a faint snore—unbothered by mortal power.
"You've done nothing," the Duke said to Derek, his voice rising just enough to echo. "Nothing for your name. Nothing for your people. And now you return with this… this circus?"
Derek didn't flinch.
"I didn't come to beg," he said.
The Duke's eyes narrowed.
"I came to tell you—don't contact me again. I'm not your heir. I'm not your tool. I'm leaving the Drago name behind."
That did it.
Aemon stepped forward, face hardening. "You will do no such thing."
Derek raised his voice. "Watch me."
"You will marry Bella Willow—as instructed."
The name dropped like a hammer in the room.
"The Willow family," the Duke said, eyes burning. "One of the kingdom's oldest pillars. A bond we've been building for generations. You will do this."
"No," Derek snapped. "Not for duty. Not for tradition. And not for your pride."
The knight beside the Duke shifted slightly. Tension was about to break.
Until—
A servant hurried into the chamber, bowing low and whispering something in the Duke's ear.
Aemon's face didn't change, but something behind his eyes moved.
After a long pause, he exhaled through his nose and waved the servant away.
"…Fine."
His tone was pure stone.
"You'll stay in the mansion until we resolve this."
He didn't look at Derek. Not anymore.
"Prepare rooms for our… guests," he told another servant, barely masking the contempt.
With that, the Duke turned and left the chamber, his knight silently following.
The group stood frozen.
Only when the door closed did Bob finally exhale and drop to his knees.
"…Okay. That man is built like a final boss."