Chapter 122
The Story in the Dream
Eleanor was dreaming.
It was a deep and distant dream, one where she couldn’t escape on her own, no matter how hard she tried.
In the dream, young Eleanor appeared. She was much smaller, with shorter arms and legs, soft round cheeks, and big eyes, looking extremely cute. She wore a simple, calm-colored dress and walked with a poised, almost adult-like manner, unlike a typical girl her age.
It was winter when she was thirteen, on the birthday of a Count’s daughter, someone Eleanor wasn’t very close to.
The young Eleanor quietly slipped out of the bustling party hall and walked alone in the empty garden.
The cold wind felt refreshing, and it helped ease the dizziness caused by the many nobles she’d been surrounded by. She wanted to stay in the garden until the party ended, but she knew her father wouldn’t allow that.
She took a deep breath under a tall tree and enjoyed the brief moment of peace.
But soon, trouble appeared.
“Hey, you don’t have a mouth? Tell me, where are you from?”
The voice coming from not far away sounded just like a thug’s. For a moment, Eleanor felt like she had returned to the poorhouse in Marylebone.
But this wasnât a place for street thugs to be; it was a party for nobles, and the only people who could fit the description of thugs were the more arrogant ones among the nobles.
âPeopleâs behavior is always the same no matter where you go,â Eleanor thought, rolling her eyes, and peeked through the bushes to see what was happening.
In the corner of the garden, she saw four men standing. Three of them were surrounding one man, clearly bullying him.
âAnswer me, you little brat. Who do you think you are, looking down on me just because youâre taller? Donât make me regret this,â one of them sneered, lifting his chin arrogantly.
The man they were bullying was tall, bigger than the others. He wasnât just tall; his broad shoulders and muscular body made him stand out. It was clear he had been trained, and if it came to a fight, he wouldnât lose, even with fewer people.
But the reason he was being bullied was simple: the difference in their social status.
Eleanor’s sharp eyes scanned the man.
His hair was messy, and his face was half-hidden, suggesting he hadn’t been cleaned up in a while. His clothes were cheap, practical, and far from the quality expected of a noble. He looked like someone who didnât belong here.
The man didnât look like a noble at all, and thugs like these always targeted people who didnât fit in.
âHe might have followed someone here, but he certainly doesnât belong here,â Eleanor thought.
He seemed to know this, too, as the discomfort on his face was obvious.
“Look at this kid; he’s too scared to say anything,” one of the thugs mocked.
“Is this guy even a noble, sneaking into a party like this? We should check,” another one suggested, snickering.
The thugs were ganging up on the man, punching and kicking him. He wasnât even trying to dodge, which made it clear he wasnât putting up a fight.
Eleanor couldnât just ignore it. She had always stood up to thugs when she lived in the poorhouse.
But now, like before, there were many things holding her back. She quickly thought of her father’s cold face. If she intervened and got caught up in a rumor, she might end up locked in the basement again. The memory of being trapped in that dark, cold place two seasons ago sent a shiver down her spine.
Her fear of her fatherâs anger was greater than her desire to act.
However, as she was about to turn and leave, a deep voice called out to her from behind.
“I donât have time to deal with kids like you. Move.”
Eleanor turned around, surprised. The manâs voice was deep and commanding, unlike anything she had expected.
He casually walked past the thugs, as though they were nothing. His calm, confident steps only made the thugs angrier.
“Who does he think he is…?” one of the thugs yelled.
Suddenly, one of the thugs lunged at the man, tackling him to the ground. It was a shocking move in the middle of a nobleâs party.
“Iâm going to teach you a lesson!” the thug shouted.
Eleanor, now even more disturbed, couldnât just stand there anymore.
“Stop!” she shouted, stepping out from behind the bushes.
The thugs froze in surprise, momentarily halting their actions. They hadnât expected a young girl to interfere.
“What’s going on here? Fighting at Lady Owen’s birthday party? How disgraceful to gang up on one person. Arenât you ashamed?” Eleanor scolded them, her voice sharp.
Two years ago, Eleanor would have just told them to get lost and insulted them. But now, after all the training and refinement, she could express herself in a much more dignified way.
“Whatâs wrong with you, kid?” one of the thugs asked, looking her up and down with a scowl.
But before he could say anything else, one of his friends, shocked, interrupted him.
“Hey, hey! Thatâs Princess Astria!” he whispered.
Astria was one of the most famous and powerful families in the party. No noble family was more powerful than Astria unless a member of the royal family attended.
The thug leader, realizing who she was, hesitated, scratching his head awkwardly.
“Princess Astria… I must have misunderstood,” he mumbled, stepping back with a forced smile.
“Donât you know who I am?” Eleanorâs voice was cold as she stared him down. “How dare you look down on me just because youâre a little taller? Youâre disgusting.”
The thugs were caught off guard by her sudden defiance. She wasnât the kind of noble girl they were used to, someone who would shrink in fear. She had lived a different life and wasnât afraid of them.
“Is this how you teach someone? Kneeling and beating them up? Who teaches like that?” she asked, her tone now scornful.
The thugs flinched as she stared them down.
They didnât know what to do, so they started making excuses.
“He’s just a kid. We were just teaching him a lesson. Itâs what nobles do, right?” one of them tried to explain.
Eleanorâs eyes glinted coldly as she looked at the man who had been attacked. He was kneeling on the ground, held by the other two thugs. He could have escaped, but for some reason, he didnât.
“You think this is how you teach someone a lesson?” she asked again, voice steady.
The thug leader sneered, ready to walk away, but Eleanor spoke again.
“Youâd better kneel now, too.”
“Excuse me?”
“Kneel. My mood is ruined now, and since you say this is how nobles are treated, do it now.”
The thugâs face flushed with anger and embarrassment, realizing that Eleanor wasnât the typical noble girl he could push around.
