Chapter 778

Gareth leaped from his seat, glaring at the guards. “What’s going on? Didn’t I tell you not to open the door? Who let her in?”

Hald Carissa stepped forward. “I entered myself. I waited an hour. When you didn’t open the door, and planned to douse me with dirty water, I had no choice but to intrude.”

Her gaze swept the room. Norman, the oldest, was flanked by two men, presumably his second and third sons. Carissa had studied portraits of Norman’s household before arriving, so she recognized them. One man, in a stone-blue brocade coat, looked anxious and frustrated. A flicker of surprise crossed his features when he saw her. That must be Mikhail, Norman’s heir.

She recognized Gareth, Norman’s fourth son and the armory officer in the Ministry of Defense—the reason for her visit, along with his concubine, Cecilia.

Hearing she had entered uninvited, Norman’s rage intensified. “How dare you! I didn’t permit your entry! You dare intrude into a first-rank duke’s residence!”

“I apologize for the offense, Lord Norman,” Carissa replied, her tone polite but firm.

Norman slammed his hand on the table. “If you know what’s good for you, leave at once! Otherwise, don’t blame me for being rude!”

Carissa responded, “I sensed your lack of courtesy at the door, but I cannot leave until I’ve asked my questions. You may be angry, but try to contain it. You can report me to His Majesty later.”

Norman, a fierce warrior, had rarely been provoked by anyone younger. His expression darkened. “Seize her and throw her out!”

The stiff material of Carissa’s official uniform hampered fighting, but it also allowed her to utilize a dancing technique. With a swift movement, she flung her cloak, weaving through the guards like a whirlwind. The sound of her cloak slapping against their faces echoed through the hall. She jumped and spun gracefully, her movements elegant and extraordinary, perfectly embodying a young martial general. She had learned this technique from Carmen; this flashy maneuver, surprisingly effective, wasn't a direct slap, avoiding outright disgrace, yet felt like one.

In a few swift moves, she sent the guards staggering. With a final spin, she raised her cloak and sat confidently in a chair.

Norman, beside himself with rage, rolled up his sleeves. “How dare you act recklessly in my residence! You’ve come to the wrong place!”

Chapter 37

Carissa hardened her gaze, focusing her energy on her palms.

Norman felt an inner force bear down on him like a gale, the overwhelming pressure nearly choking him. He struggled to remain upright but couldn't withstand its force. Panic gripped him—he hadn't anticipated Carissa's skill.

Just as he thought he'd be sent flying, the pressure dissipated. It took him a moment to regain his composure, only to realize Carissa hadn't even directed her palms at him.

His face paled.

“Please have a seat, Lord Norman. I’m here to ask a few questions. Once I’m done, I’ll leave,” Carissa said, her tone steady and respectful.

Norman retreated to his seat, feeling a surge of blood. He drew a deep breath, but couldn't speak, his expression dark and brooding.

The others assumed Norman had chosen not to make things difficult for Carissa.

Gareth glared at Carissa. “My family has little to do with Grand Princess Eleanor. If you’re trying to establish your authority, you’ve miscalculated. You barged into our residence, and my father will surely report you to His Majesty.”

Carissa replied, her voice low and firm, “I said you can report me, but please do so based on the facts: the hour I waited outside, being turned away, and almost being doused with dirty water. I respect Lord Norman’s reputation, which is why I waited; how you choose to accept that respect is your business.”

She paused, fixing her gaze on them. “Also, I advise you to open the door. The questioning process needs to be documented, and everything discussed will be presented to His Majesty for his review.”