Chapter 529: A Little Too Much Praise

As the formal tea gathering slowly reached its conclusion inside the main drawing room of the Avery estate, the doors leading out to the private terrace were thrown wide open.

The gathered omegas gradually left their seats, making their way down the pristine white marble steps into the sprawling, meticulously manicured gardens below. The long table inside was left abandoned in favor of scattered stone benches, wrought-iron gazebos, and winding gravel paths shaded by tall, fragrant archways of blooming crimson and white roses.

Near a central stone fountain where clear water bubbled gently over carved marble basins, Derrick stood surrounded by a small cluster of young nobles, including Lord Erius and two teenage sons of prominent border counts. The younger nobles, who had initially been deeply skeptical and whispered cynical rumors about Cherion’s sudden change of character over their tea cups, were now listening attentively as Derrick eagerly recounted more details about their time together.

"Honestly, I know what everyone used to say about him," Derrick said warmly, leaning his shoulder against the smooth marble edge of the fountain with a relaxed smile. "And trust me, I was just as hesitant at first. I expected him to be dramatic, demanding, or cold. But he’s completely different now. He’s sharp, extremely grounded, and genuinely cares about the people around him. He didn’t hesitate for a single second when that lunatic Heinrich pulled out a weapon yesterday. He put himself right between us and danger without a shred of fear! From what I’ve heard, of course, since I was unconscious for most of it. But wasn’t it amazing?"

Lord Erius nodded thoughtfully, smoothing down the front of his embroidered silk coat as he took in Derrick’s words. "It really is remarkable. When news first broke this morning, half the people in the capital were saying it was just two notorious nobles causing trouble in a public washroom. But hearing it directly from you, Derrick... perhaps Lord Cherion truly has changed for the better. It’s certainly a massive relief for everyone if he has transformed into someone so capable."

"It’s more than a relief, it’s an absolute blessing," Derrick added firmly, waving a hand in swift dismissal of the lingering gossip. "He saved me from what could have been a terrifying, dangerous situation, twice! I won’t stand for people talking trash about him or dredging up his past anymore. He proved his character when it mattered most."

A short distance away, stepping quietly along the crunching gravel path with an unhurried, impossibly graceful stride, Lord Philia approached the fountain.

His face wore its usual serene, angelically polite expression, his eyes soft as he offered a gentle, respectful bow of his head to the small gathered group.

"Lord Derrick," Philia spoke softl. "I hope I am not interrupting your conversation?"

"Not at all, Lord Philia!" Derrick beamed warmly, immediately stepping aside to make room for him near the bubbling marble basin. "We were just talking about yesterday’s crazy event again. I was telling everyone how incredible Cherion was."

Philia’s soft smile remained bright, though a subtle, sorrowful look flickered across his eyes as he looked directly at Derrick. "I wanted to step away from the larger crowd inside to check on you personally, Lord Derrick. Hearing about such a violent, unprovoked attack... my heart simply sank when the news reached me. Are you truly feeling alright? You haven’t experienced any lingering dizziness, nausea, or strange fatigue from that terrible sleep powder?"

Derrick gave a bright, reassured laugh, patting his own chest with total confidence. "Oh, everything is totally fine, Lord Philia! Thank God nothing serious happened to any of us. I slept like a rock last night, and aside from a tiny bit of grogginess when I first woke up this morning, I’ve never felt better."

Philia tilted his head slightly. "Lord Cherion truly acted with remarkable swiftness. It is almost miraculous how he managed to disarm a full-grown lord who was carrying a weapon and illegal toxins. Did he... use anything specific to subdue him? A hidden defensive magic tool, perhaps? Or a defensive spell?"

Derrick blinked, looking slightly confused by the specific nature of the question before shaking his head in a lighthearted, casual manner. "Oh, no! Nothing like that at all! Cherion didn’t use any magic or secret tools during the fight. It was pure martial reaction! Honestly, I think he’s just been training really hard with the Duke’s private knights lately."

Pure physical skill? Philia mused silently. No divine traces? No magic flare whatsoever? Either the former spoiled brat has somehow acquired genuine martial instincts in a matter of months, or he is hiding his true capabilities far deeper than anyone in this capital suspects.

"I see..." Philia murmured aloud, his voice dropping into a soft, admiring tone that sounded thoroughly genuine to everyone listening. "To stand so groundedly in the face of sudden violence without relying on spell... Lord Cherion’s courage and physical discipline are truly commendable."

"Right?" Derrick chimed in enthusiastically, completely unaware of the quiet intelligence-gathering taking place. "He’s honestly amazing now. Even my father was saying at dinner last night how much respect he has for Lord Cherion’s growth. Everyone who keeps spreading old rumors about him being spoiled, malicious, or lazy is just stuck in the past. He’s completely changed into someone dependable, brave, and reliable!"

"I must admit, hearing you speak so highly of him makes me reflect as well," Lord Erius remarked, turning to Derrick with an approving nod. "We were all so quick to judge him based on his old reputation from years ago. But if the Duke trusts him, and House Avery speaks so warmly of him, it would be foolish for the rest of us to hold old grudges."

"Exactly!" Derrick agreed, gesturing animatedly. "He’s really easy to talk to once you get to know him. He doesn’t act superior or put on a show for anyone. Next time we organize an outing, I’m definitely inviting him along again."

The conversation soon turned to Heinrich, though not in the flattering manner one might have expected. One of the young nobles scoffed at the mention of his name, calling his earlier behavior utterly disgraceful. Another agreed, remarking that attacking Cherion and Derrick was bad enough, but doing so without the slightest regard for his own standing made the whole affair even more shameful. Lord Erius shook his head, clearly displeased by Heinrich’s conduct.

Yet even that discussion somehow found its way back to Cherion. Someone pointed out how gracefully Cherion had handled everything, and before long, the young nobles were praising him all over again.

As Derrick continued to praise Cherion with devotion, Lord Erius and the other young nobles chimed in with agreeing nods, shifting the entire social atmosphere of the rose garden into an impromptu appreciation for Cherion.

Philia remained among the gathered nobles, maintaining the pleasant expression he had worn throughout the conversation. However, his fingers slowly curled against the fabric of his trousers, gripping it a little tighter as he listened to their endless praise of Cherion. He made no attempt to interrupt or offer his own opinion, merely standing there with his gaze lowered slightly. After a moment, he moved one hand behind his back, clasping it with the other as though nothing about the conversation had bothered him in the slightest.

Beneath his flawless, radiant smile, a suffocating wave of intense irritation began to settle deep within his chest. Listening to court nobles who used to revile, mock, and sneer at Cherion’s very name, now singing his praises in unison made Philia’s stomach turn with quiet revulsion. He had zero desire to stand here for another second and listen to a chorus of glowing compliments for Cherion.

"I am truly glad to hear that you are completely unharmed, Derrick," Philia interrupted smoothly, his voice remaining as sweet and light as honey as he took a small, deliberate step backward onto the gravel path. "And it brings my heart such profound peace to know Lord Cherion acted so honorably to protect you."

Derrick offered a warm, bright smile. "Thank you, Lord Philia!"

"If you will all excuse me," Philia added, dipping his head with quiet, saintly grace toward the small gathering of nobles. "The heavy scent of the rose blossoms is quite strong near the fountain, and I feel a faint, lingering headache coming on. I think I shall take a quiet walk near the outer archways before the carriages are called to take us back to the palace."

"Oh, please take care of yourself, Lord Philia!" Lord Erius called out politely, bowing slightly. "Don’t overexert yourself after your long journey!"

"Thank you, Lord Erius," Philia murmured softly.

He offered them one last radiant, beautiful smile before turning around and walking slowly down the shaded garden path, leaving the cheerful chatter of the fountain far behind him.

The exact moment he stepped past the tall, thick boxwood hedges, completely out of sight from the rest of the noble gathering, the gentle, radiant warmth on Philia’s face completely vanished.

His eyes turned utterly cold, flat, and expressionless. The soft, rhythmic crunch of dry rose leaves beneath his leather slippers was the only sound breaking the heavy silence around him.

Cherion...

How remarkably fascinating. You managed to turn a disgraced noble’s desperate, sloppy ambush into a grand stage for your own heroic praise. You have the Avery heir wrapped around your finger, the capital gossips reconsidering their stance, and the Duke protecting your every step.

Philia paused near a carved stone balustrade overlooking the estate’s lower courtyard, his slender fingers lightly trailing along the cool marble edge.

Enjoy your little fleeting moments of praise while they last, Cherion, Philia mused silently. The capital is a thoroughly dangerous place for heroes... especially those who stand so brightly in the light.