SSS Ranked Dragon King: My Innate Ability is Unbelievable.-Chapter 209: Knight in shinning armour.

Chapter 209: Knight in shinning armour.

He went straight to where the maid he’d slapped was still half-sprawled on the floor, one hand braced against the tile, the other still covering her wounded face. Charles crouched down in front of her, making sure to appear gentle and harmless.

" Let me take a look." he murmured, his voice seemed more like a soothing balm after Henry’s icy venom. With a touch so soft it was almost reverent, he reached out and gently took her wrist, moving her hand away from her cheek.

His other hand came up to softly shift her disheveled hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ear. He examined the damage, the already-blooming red welt on her pale skin, the trickle of blood from her nose, the way her eye was beginning to puff shut. A genuine look of pained sympathy, one which no doubt looked deep and convincing, settled into his handsome features.

"M-My Lord Charles..." Elise whispered, her body still trembling, but the moment his fingers made contact, some of the sheer, paralyzing terror seemed to leach away. His touch was warm, while his presence gave a sense of comfort, like one who’d escaped a storm into the comfort of a warm home.

"Not another word, save your breath," Charles said, giving her a smile that was both kind and sorrowful. He then turned his head, his gaze sweeping over the other three maids, especially the frozen-handed one, and the other petrified two His let out a soft sigh a moment later.

"Would you all please excuse my brother and me? There’s quite a few things I’d like to discuss with him in private."

The maid all felt a wave of relief wash over them right after hearing his words. "As you wish, Lord Charles," the three standing maids said in unison, bobbing hurried, shaky curtseys. One cradled her frozen hands, while the other two carefully laid down their fans as if they were made of glass.

Charles helped the one with the swollen cheek to her feet, his arm steadying her when she wobbled. He then glanced meaningfully at the ice-bound ones hands before looking back at the one Infront of him, who was the least physically restrained. "Please do hurry and tend to those injuries," he said, his voice full of concern. He reached into the pocket of his trousers and pulled out a single, gleaming gold coin. It caught the dappled afternoon light, glistening briefly, attracting the gazes of all th3 maids.

"M-My Lord, I couldn’t..." Elise stammered, her eyes wide with disbelief as he took her uninjured hand and pressed the cool metal coin into her palm, folding her fingers over it.

"Please, take it," Charles insisted, his voice sounding soft yet intimate to a certain degree, causing their hearts to flutter. "Consider it an apology from me, alright?" He gently used his right hand to lift her chin, forcing her tear-filled, swollen eyes to meet his. His own eyes, seemed to shimmer with sincerity and a touch of melancholy. "Beautiful damsels such as yourselves shouldn’t be burdened by scars, especially not ones born of such... unpleasantness. I’d be truly hurt if I saw that happen to any of you."

The effect was instantaneous and profound. "My Lord..." all four maids breathed in a ragged, awed whisper. Their eyes, once wide with a mixture of pain and fear, we’re overwhelmed by his staggering kindness, and welled with fresh tears that shimmered like glistening stars.

In that moment, Charles Montgomery wasn’t just a lord to them, but their charming knight, a savior, a prince of compassion who had rushed to their aid.

The comparison with his brother, who now stood scowling a few feet away, was so stark it was painful. They scurried away, the one with the swollen cheek, supporting the one with the frozen hands, while the other two were close behind, casting long, grateful looks back at Charles before they disappeared into the shadowy interior of the estate.

After the maids had truly gone, the patio fell into a heavy silence. The scattered grapes on the floor were the only evidence of the recent turmoil. Charles turned his attentiveness back towards his brother. Henry had already retaken his seat, his posture rigid, with a scowl fixed on his face. Charles appreciated, in a detached way, that his brother was at least eager to get down to business rather than continue the petty, destructive tantrum. It showed a thread of pragmatism not yet completely severed.

Charles smirked inwardly and took a seat himself, He reached down, picked up the bowl with little remaining grapes, placed it on the table and plucked one of the stray, un-crushed grapes from the bowl, dusted it off casually on his shirt, and popped it into his mouth. He chewed thoughtfully, spitting the pit neatly into his palm and setting it on the small table between them.

"So tell me, what really brings you here, brother?" Henry was the first to speak.

"We’ve already discussed a good amount today. Unless you’ve suddenly grown attached to me, which I highly doubt, there must be a good reason why you’re here at all."

"Well, you aren’t wrong about any of that," Charles chuckled, his laughter dry and humourless. He picked up a linen napkin from the table, dabbed it delicately against his lips, and set it down. The afternoon sun, filtering through the wisteria, caught the planes of his face, making his charismatic eyes seem to shimmer with a knowing, dangerous light. "I’m afraid I came here to drop off some news for you, brother. Think of me as a messenger, if you would."

"News?" Henry muttered, his irritation momentarily overridden by intrigue. He leaned forward slightly, the spoiled lord replaced by a curious noble. "And pray tell, what news have you come to deliver to me that couldn’t wait?"

Charles placed his elbows atop the ornate table, steepling his fingers together. He leaned in, the ghost of his charming smile still on his lips but not reaching his eyes, which had hardened into a sharp and knowing gaze, His lips arched upwards into a sly, almost predatory smirk.