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Fated Eclipse: The Illegitimate Princess And Her Alpha Suitors

Chapter 155: The Things Men Say When They Are Seen · Oct 17, 2026

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Chapter List (452)

Page number / 10

151 Chapter 151: The Corridor That Leads Where It Must 2026-10-17
152 Chapter 152: Words Behind Velvet Walls 2026-10-17
153 Chapter 153: What Is Said, and What Is Meant 2026-10-17
154 Chapter 154: The Smile That Means More Than It Says 2026-10-17
155 Chapter 155: The Things Men Say When They Are Seen 2026-10-17
156 Chapter 156: The Baron’s Interview 2026-10-17
157 Chapter 157: A Truth That Refuses Ornament 2026-10-17
158 Chapter 158: What Is Spoken Without Embellishment 2026-10-17
159 Chapter 159: The Questions That Do Not Wait for Breath 2026-10-17
160 Chapter 160: The Questions That Do Not Wait for Comfort 2026-10-17
161 Chapter 161: The Street That Listened 2026-10-17
162 Chapter 162: Five Men For Princess Lyria 2026-10-17
163 Chapter 163: The Street That Argued 2026-10-17
164 Chapter 164: The Answer She Chose 2026-10-17
165 Chapter 165: The Question They Wanted Answered 2026-10-17
166 Chapter 166: The Weight of Words Left Unsaid 2026-10-17
167 Chapter 167: What the Quiet Reveals 2026-10-17
168 Chapter 168: A Corridor of Small Truths 2026-10-17
169 Chapter 169: Of Doors Closed and Things Not Quite Said 2026-10-17
170 Chapter 170: Where Shadows Choose Their Words 2026-10-17
171 Chapter 171: Another Visit To Patricia 2026-10-17
172 Chapter 172: Things Spoken Softly 2026-10-17
173 Chapter 173: The Shape of the Road Ahead 2026-10-17
174 Chapter 174: The Next Trial 2026-10-17
175 Chapter 175: Of Letters Delivered and Disasters Foretold 2026-10-17
176 Chapter 176: The Matter of Unfortunate Aptitudes 2026-10-17
177 Chapter 177: An Assembly of Unlikely Scholars 2026-10-17
178 Chapter 178: Renewal 2026-10-17
179 Chapter 179: Ink and Silence 2026-10-17
180 Chapter 180: Ink and Judgment 2026-10-17
181 Chapter 181: The First Reading 2026-10-17
182 Chapter 182: Meaning Without Words 2026-10-17
183 Chapter 183: The Second Reading 2026-10-17
184 Chapter 184: A Pattern Established 2026-10-17
185 Chapter 185: What Is Home? 2026-10-17
186 Chapter 186: More Than Words 2026-10-17
187 Chapter 187: What She Understood 2026-10-17
188 Chapter 188: The Marquess’s Poem 2026-10-17
189 Chapter 189: Mercer’s Row Speaks 2026-10-17
190 Chapter 190: The Earl’s Poem 2026-10-17
191 Chapter 191: What Was Said Aloud 2026-10-17
192 Chapter 192: The Sound of Home 2026-10-17
193 Chapter 193: Listening Commoners 2026-10-17
194 Chapter 194: Sugar, Silk, and Subtext 2026-10-17
195 Chapter 195: Among Gentlemen 2026-10-17
196 Chapter 196: Results Already Decided 2026-10-17
197 Chapter 197: Two Streets, One Kingdom 2026-10-17
198 Chapter 198: What Truly Reached Her 2026-10-17
199 Chapter 199: Titles Buried Beneath Titles 2026-10-17
200 Chapter 200: A Candidate in Name 2026-10-17

Chapter 154: The Things Men Say When They Are Seen

Lyria’s POV

Lady Mirelle cleared her throat softly, drawing the attention of the hall back to the present.

”Earl Hawthorne,” she began, her tone measured, ”state your name and title for the record.”

He straightened almost immediately, though the nervousness in his posture did not entirely disappear.

”Earl Benedict Hawthorne of Windmere,” he said.

There was the slightest tremor at the start of his voice, but it steadied as he continued.

Lady Mirelle inclined her head.

”And your intentions,” she said, ”in presenting yourself as a suitor candidate?”

He cleared his throat quietly before answering.

”My intentions,” he began, ”are... much the same as those who have spoken before me.”

There was a brief pause, as though he were choosing his words carefully.

”I aim to assist the Moon in fulfilling her role,” he continued. ”That is what the prophecy entails, and it is a responsibility I do not take lightly.”

His voice gained a little strength as he spoke further.

”And,” he added, ”I also intend to be a good spouse to the Moon.”

That was new.

My lips curved slightly before I could stop myself.

No one else had said it so plainly.

No one else had acknowledged it quite like that.

”After all,” he continued, a little more firmly now, ”the Sun is meant to stand beside the Moon. And so... I believe it is only right that I strive to be worthy of that place.”

Lady Mirelle gave a small nod.

”Very well,” she said. ”Now, this is a hypothetical question.”

He nodded at once, as though bracing himself.

”If,” she continued, ”you were to find yourself inclined toward someone who is not a Moon candidate, what would your response be?”

He was the only one who did not interrupt her as she asked the question.

Earl Hawthorne took a quiet breath before answering.

”I did not come here with the intention of being swayed,” he said honestly.

There was no embellishment in his tone.

No attempt to make the words sound more impressive than they were.

”And,” he added, ”I do not believe that such a situation is likely to occur.”

He paused briefly.

”I am... quite invested in this selection,” he continued. ”And I believe that my focus will remain here.”

There was a small, almost apologetic smile on his face.

”So,” he finished, ”as the others have said... I do not believe that will happen.”

I studied him quietly.

There was something about the way he spoke.

It was not polished in the way the others had been.

Not carefully constructed or deliberately weighted.

It was simply... honest.

Lady Mirelle inclined her head again.

”The next question,” she said, ”has been submitted by the public.”

He nodded, though the tension in his shoulders returned slightly.

”You are known,” she continued, ”as a war hero.”

There was a subtle shift at that.

”The people wish to know,” she said, ”what it was like to be on the battlefield.”

For a moment, he said nothing.

Then he let out a small, nervous chuckle, though it did not carry any real amusement.

His gaze dropped briefly to his hands.

”It is... not something I often speak about,” he admitted.

His fingers curled slightly, as though remembering something they would rather not.

”But,” he continued after a moment, ”I will say this.”

He lifted his gaze again, though there was a heaviness in it now.

”War is not what people believe it to be.”

The words were simple.

But they settled heavily in the air.

”People die,” he said quietly. ”Families are torn apart. Those who survive... often return having lost more than can be seen.”

”It is not...” he hesitated briefly, ”it is not something I would ever wish to glorify.”

”Being there,” he continued, ”was difficult. Every day, I prayed that I would return home.”

His voice softened slightly.

”To my territory,” he added. ”To my family.”

There was a pause.

Then, as though realising the weight of what he had said, he straightened slightly.

Lady Mirelle gave a slow nod.

”Thank you,” she said.

There was a brief moment before she continued.

”Now,” she added, ”perhaps you may tell us something of yourself.”

He swallowed.

Then gave a small, uncertain smile.

”There is... not much to say,” he admitted.

”Everyone already knows my name,” he said. ”And that I am a suitor candidate.”

He shifted slightly in his seat.

”I suppose...” he hesitated, then continued, ”I am more... absent-minded than I would like to be.”

I smiled softly at that.

”I tend to let things slip by without noticing,” he added quickly. ”Though it is not intentional.”

He rubbed lightly at the back of his neck.

”It is something I am trying to improve.”

His honesty remained unchanged.

”I have six sisters,” he continued, a small smile forming again. ”All younger than I am.”

There was a warmth in his voice now.

”They are... quite lively,” he added. ”And I have learned a great deal from them.”

He paused briefly.

”About what a woman may prefer,” he said, ”and what she may not.”

That earned a few quiet murmurs.

”I enjoy sweets,” he added, almost as an afterthought. ”And I sometimes carry snacks with me.”

”And,” he continued, ”like Duke Thorncrest, I enjoy running in my wolf form.”

There was a brief pause.

Then his expression shifted—subtly, but noticeably.

”I dislike discrimination,” he said firmly, the lightness gone from his voice.

”I believe... everyone deserves an opportunity to be seen and judged fairly.”

His voice steadied further.

”I do not tolerate unfair treatment.”

There was something firmer beneath his tone now.

”And, most importantly,” he added, more quietly but with greater certainty, ”I do not tolerate abuse.”

”My territory—Windmere—is strongly opposed to such things,” he continued. ”And I will not stand for it.”

I watched him carefully. He said it with full conviction.

After a moment, he seemed to realise how firm his tone had become.

He cleared his throat softly, the nervousness returning just slightly.

”That will be all,” he said, scratching lightly behind his ear.

Lady Mirelle allowed a small smile.

”Thank you, Your Lordship,” she said.

He nodded quickly, rising from his seat with a slight stiffness before stepping away.

The interviews continued.

One name after another.

The rhythm resumed.

And I hardly paid attention until Baron Redwick was called.

He stepped forward with his usual composure, adjusting his spectacles with precise care before taking his seat.

But just as he took his seat, the door opened, and Duke Valenridge stepped in as though he had never been absent at all.

He adjusted his cuff as he walked, his expression composed in a way that suggested he was entirely unconcerned with the fact that he had arrived late.

He moved into position beside Baron Frederick Ashcombe.

The baron, who had been composed moments before, now appeared... less so.

A handkerchief appeared in his hand, and he used it to dab lightly at his brow.

Duke Valenridge noticed and gave him a smile. I noticed he came alone and wondered where his valet and guard were.

As if he could feel my gaze on him, he turned toward my direction and smiled softly.

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