Succubi Chapter 238. Clean Exit
Succubi Chapter 238. Clean Exit
We excused ourselves after that.
Clean exit.
Victory prize secured.
Public image? Polished.
Alyra’s reputation? Protected.
Cassian’s pride? Left bleeding somewhere on the grass beside his fancy enchanted rapier.
Honestly, it was a beautiful evening.
I mean, sure, part of me wanted more duels. More challengers. More arrogant noble boys stepping forward with expensive weapons and fragile egos. Five hundred for participation. Five hundred for victory. Maybe political hazard compensation if someone cried loudly enough and called their uncle.
A man could dream.
But hey, this was good enough.
And to be honest?
That duel was an easy win.
Far easier than the underground duel. The underground duel had chaos, unknown skills, chokeslams, boobslaps, and Professor Callahan lurking somewhere like a broken-hearted shadow crow.
Cassian?
Cassian was trained, yes. Fast, yes. His weapon was good. Too good. But he fought like someone who had always been told his technique was impressive and never had to survive a fight where admiration didn’t matter.
Once I read him, he became readable.
Still, I could feel his gaze on my back as we left the field and returned through the terrace.
Yeah. He got a grudge for sure.
But he couldn’t say anything. Not now. Denial would make everything worse. He lost by first blood. Publicly. Cleanly. After provoking me and implying I was weak.
If he complained, he would look smaller.
And nobles hated looking smaller more than they hated losing.
So he stayed silent.
For now.
Mirena, though?
Ah, Mirena.
She played nice.
She rushed to Cassian after the duel with perfect timing, taking his wounded hand in hers, eyes wide and wet, voice soft enough to make nearby men think she was a saint.
“Cassian, are you hurt?”
Technically, yes.
Emotionally, fatally.
She looked worried. Delicately worried. The kind of worried that made people want to comfort her for witnessing a wound smaller than a kitchen accident.
But while her hands held Cassian’s bleeding hand, her eyes moved to me.
Just briefly.
A signal.
A fragile, pleading look.
Like she was trapped beside Cassian’s anger. Like she wanted me to understand something nobody else could. Like she was the helpless victim of the whole situation and I, handsome mysterious fake boyfriend with rolled sleeves and a shadow rapier, should notice her suffering and feel the urge to save her.
A guy with white knight instincts would definitely fall for it.
Unfortunately for her, I did not have that thing.
My Pride didn’t include cheap hero syndrome.
I didn’t see a damsel.
I saw bait with eyelashes.
So I gave her nothing.
I simply placed my coat back over my shoulders, offered Alyra my arm, and escorted her away like the rest of the room had become background decoration.
That?
That got to Mirena.
I knew because her soft expression flickered.
We moved through the banquet hall again, and now the atmosphere was different. Earlier, we entered as curiosity. Then we danced as spectacle. After the duel, we became story.
People watched Alyra differently.
Not with the sharp hunger of nobles expecting her humiliation.
They watched her like she had arrived with a beautiful dark weapon and used it properly.
Mission accomplished.
Alyra said her farewells with smooth elegance. No laughing at Cassian. No unnecessary victory speech. That was smart. Winning loudly would make her look petty. Winning quietly made everyone else talk for her.
And nobles loved talking.
By the time we reached the entrance hall, whispers were already blooming behind us.
“Blackthorn…”
“Did you see Vale’s face?”
“Lady Veyne chose well.”
“Where did she find him?”
“Dangerous man…”
Nice.
Could put that on my resume.
We reached the mansion entrance and stepped into the cooler night air. The servants outside bowed again, their expressions still professional, but now there was something else in their eyes.
Respect.
Or caution.
Again, same currency tonight.
Alyra and I stood beneath the entrance lamps, waiting for the car to arrive. Her hand rested on my arm, but lighter now, almost absentminded.
Cassian was gone.
Probably to protect his pride.
Or maybe to yap to his friends and salvage whatever dignity he could scrape off the grass.
Something like, “The blade was unfamiliar”, or “I held back because guests were watching”, or “Blackthorn used strange tricks”.
Sure.
Whatever helped him sleep.
I exhaled slowly.
“Not bad,” I said.
Alyra looked at me. “Not bad?”
“Good evening. Food smelled expensive. Dance went well. Duel paid. No one poisoned me.”
“Your standard for success is unusual.”
“I’m a battle academy student.”
“I know.”
“And now I am a richer battle academy student.”
Her lips curved. “You really are thinking about the bonus? You just humiliated my ex, protected me from Mirena’s little stunt, made half the banquet whisper, and won a duel in front of noble families. And your first thought is money?”
“My second thought.”
“What was the first?”
I looked at her.
She looked back.
The night seemed to lean closer.
For one dangerous heartbeat, her eyes softened again. The same look from the dance floor. Warm, excited, confused by how much of this was acting and how much wasn’t.
I smiled faintly.
“That you looked satisfied.”
Her breath caught.
Then footsteps came from behind us.
Quick.
Light.
Too urgent to be casual.
“Evan. Alyra, wait.”
We turned.
Mirena Sol jogged toward us from the entrance hall, one hand holding the edge of her dress so she wouldn’t trip. Her hair had loosened slightly near her face. Her cheeks were flushed from the cold or the act. Probably the act. Maybe both.
She stopped a few steps away and pressed one hand to her chest, breathing just enough to look delicate.
Alyra’s expression cooled instantly. “Lady Sol.”
Mirena flinched softly at the tone, then gave a small wounded smile. “Please don’t look at me like that. I only wanted to talk.”
Oh, here we go.
Green tea service, second cup.
I kept my face calm.
Mirena’s eyes flicked to me. “Lord Blackthorn,” she said softly.
Not Mr.
Not Evan.
Lord.
Trying to polish me while reaching.
I inclined my head. “Lady Sol.”
Her lashes lowered. “You were incredible tonight.”
Alyra’s fingers stilled on my arm.