妻子的谎言

With a joyous giggle, a small child donning a resplendent traditional outfit burst out of the bedroom, trailed closely by his mother, equally adorned in exquisite attire. Her voice resounded through the house, laced with a touch of exasperation, as she attempted to catch the swift-footed youngster.

"Come back, Gorge! I haven't finished dressing you yet!" she called out, desperately pursuing her elusive son. However, her pursuit was abruptly halted as the boy's father emerged from an adjacent room, intercepting the fleeting child with a loving smile.

Lifting Gorge into his arms, the father's face radiated warmth and amusement. "Why are you causing your mother such distress, my mischievous one?" he asked, his voice filled with affectionate reproach.

Gorge's laughter rang out like tinkling bells, brimming with innocent delight. "I want to catch a glimpse of the new Duke," he replied gleefully. "My friends were raving about how extraordinary he is."

The room was suffused with a sense of familial harmony, the air alive with the infectious mirth of a child and the tender bond between parents. 

"Remember, Gorge, if you wish to catch a glimpse of the Duke, you must behave," the father reminded his son, gently setting him down to allow the mother to complete the dressing.

Once the family had finished their preparations, they stepped out of their home, only to encounter another family heading towards the same ceremony. A serendipitous encounter, it seemed.

"Ah, Miss Ridha, I recall you being opposed to the coronation of the new Duke, so why are you attending the ceremony?" The husband remarked, his curiosity piqued by the unexpected encounter.

Ridha's lips curved into a serene smile, her eyes sparkling with newfound understanding. "Indeed, I once held reservations," she admitted, her voice tinged with a touch of reflection. "But after my husband enlightened me about the new Duke's extraordinary deeds, saving us from the clutches of death not once, but twice, I couldn't help but feel a profound sense of gratitude. Moreover, the Duke himself expressed his desire for this celebration, and it became clear to me that honoring his achievements was a matter of respect".

Curiosity flickered in the mother's eyes as she inquired, "Pray tell, where is your esteemed husband amidst all this?"

Ridha's gaze shifted momentarily, her pride evident. "He is fulfilling his duties at the ceremony, serving as the first officer of the royal guard," she replied, her voice imbued with a sense of admiration. In her tender embrace, Ridha held the hands of her two daughters, a picture of familial unity and devotion.

As the two families continued their journey, a sense of anticipation filled the air. The noble traditions they adorned, woven with the threads of their culture, seemed to come alive, encapsulating their shared purpose and honoring the valiant Duke. 

Little Gorge's heart swelled with excitement, while his parents and Ridha walked side by side, united in their reverence for the new Duke and the unbreakable bond of loyalty and duty that permeated their lives.

….

In the heart of the bustling town square, the grandeur of Nervek, nobles hailing from every corner of the sprawling demon territory had already settled upon their opulent seats. Their elevated positions afforded them a vantage point from which to observe the forthcoming ceremony, basking in their privileged status.

Meanwhile, the common folk, a sea of faces, stood below, their gazes uplifted toward the colossal altar where the esteemed Duke was slated to make his appearance and address the gathered multitude. 

The air was charged with an air of anticipation, as whispers of the Duke's wisdom and valor swirled through the crowd like an enchanting melody.

Every corner of the square had been meticulously secured, ensuring the safety of the attendees. Not only did the formidable soldiers of Nervek stand guard, but also discreet figures cloaked in darkness—the servants under Yuri, the enigmatic Soul Hunters. 

Clad in somber attire, these shadowy operatives adeptly concealed themselves from prying eyes, their presence known only to those initiated into the secrets of the realm.

As the moments ticked by, the atmosphere grew increasingly palpable, a palpable mix of excitement and reverence permeating the air. 

The citizens of Nervek, from the illustrious nobles to the humble commoners, shared a collective anticipation, united in their desire to witness the grand spectacle that was about to unfold before them. 

The stage was set, and all eyes remained fixed upon the towering altar, awaiting the arrival of their esteemed Duke and the words he would impart upon their eager ears.

As if summoned by an ethereal force, Vlad, the regal figurehead of the vampire realm, emerged gracefully from the entrance. With measured steps, he ascended the elevated platform, his presence commanding and his countenance exuding an aura of unyielding power. 

The instant the eyes of the crowd fell upon him, a resounding roar of exhilaration erupted, reverberating through the very fabric of the atmosphere. It was a testament to the indomitable charisma of the Duke himself, Vlad, the sovereign ruler of over a thousand vampires.

In the wake of the tumultuous cheer, a hushed silence gradually settled, a collective breath held in anticipation of the forthcoming address. 

All eyes remained transfixed upon the Duke, their gazes unwavering, captivated by the regal figure who stood before them. His features were a symphony of elegance and strength, his piercing gaze evoking a sense of both reverence and apprehension.

With an air of authority, Vlad surveyed the multitude before him, his voice poised to echo across the expanse of the square. The momentous occasion held the promise of profound words and declarations that would resonate within the hearts of those fortunate enough to bear witness.

"Dear citizens of Nervek," the Duke's voice boomed, carrying a timbre that demanded attention. "Today, we gather in unity to celebrate not only the ascension of a new era but also the indomitable spirit that courses through the veins of our territory. It is with great honor and humility that I stand before you as your servant, bound by duty to safeguard the prosperity and harmony of our realm."

The crowd listened intently, their eyes fixated upon Vlad as his words wove a tapestry of inspiration and guidance. The atmosphere shimmered with a tangible sense of awe, for in this moment, the king of vampires had graced them with his presence, and his every word held the potential to shape their future.

Vlad's voice resonated with unwavering conviction, its cadence steady and measured, a testament to the countless years of his reign. He stood upon the altar, his regal demeanor untarnished by even a trace of nervousness. The weight of his words carried the wisdom of ages past, and the crowd hung upon them with bated breath.

The atmosphere became charged with a mix of intrigue and trepidation as Vlad broached a topic that had long lingered in the shadows of their consciousness. "As all of you are well aware," he began, his tone tinged with a profound sorrow, "mere months ago, we were beset by a treacherous betrayal orchestrated by members of our own council, and tragically, even my own son succumbed to the allure of power that I possess. I must bear my share of responsibility, for on that fateful day, lives were lost at my hands."

A collective gasp reverberated through the crowd, shock and disbelief etched upon their faces. The truth, unveiled with such raw honesty, struck them to their very core. The Duke's admission of guilt, mingled with remorse, hung heavy in the air, eliciting a complex array of emotions within the gathered multitude.

Yet, with an unwavering resolve, Vlad continued, his voice unwavering. "However," he declared, a glimmer of hope emanating from his words, "amidst the darkness that engulfed us, a light emerged—a man who, against all odds, offered aid and salvation to our beleaguered town. 

This same man, with unwavering courage, helped free us from the clutches of the monstrous rule imposed upon us by the demon lord. He saved us countless times, and as fate would have it, he is betrothed to my daughter."

The revelation hung in the air, a profound realization washing over the crowd. The atmosphere crackled with anticipation as the weight of Vlad's words sank deep into their hearts. 

The Duke's resolute voice, seasoned by the passage of time, rang out once more, its tone resonant with conviction. "I hereby declare," Vlad proclaimed, his words carrying the weight of authority, "that this noble individual, who has proven his worth time and again, be granted the honor and responsibility of becoming the Duke of this land. Let us unite in celebration, for it is through his actions that we shall forge a brighter future".

The crowd erupted into a chorus of both astonished gasps and resounding applause, their astonishment giving way to admiration and acceptance.

Standing poised at the threshold of the door, Sato, his composure unshaken, could hear the resounding cheers of the people reverberating through the grand hall. 

As he gathered his thoughts, Yuri, his loyal confidant, approached him, her nimble fingers deftly adjusting Sato's collar with a touch of finesse.

"Master, just listen to them," Yuri remarked, a glimmer of admiration in her eyes. "Their excitement and anticipation are clear as day. Only you possess the power to captivate a crowd in such a way."

A small smile played at the corners of Sato's lips as he regarded Yuri. "Must you always tease me at such crucial moments?" He quipped, his voice laced with affectionate amusement. Despite the weight of the impending task, a sense of tranquility radiated from him, like a calm sea amidst a storm.

With a serene resolve, Sato pushed open the door, the anticipation of the crowd surging through him like a gust of wind.

Stepping onto the hallowed ground, he made his way toward the altar, Vlad, the esteemed Duke, at his side. Each step was measured, purposeful, as Sato embraced the significance of this pivotal moment.