Chapter 42 Provoking Miguel, Taking Action Against Cressida?
As soon as Clio heard that Patrick wanted to send Rose away, she immediately objected.
"Mr. Hamilton, we've raised Rose for nearly ten years, treating her almost like our own daughter. Besides, she cured your leg!"
"All these years of raising her, we spent a fortune on her education and cared for her like our own daughter. Even if there was a debt of gratitude, it's been repaid!"
Patrick spoke bluntly: "Before this, I thought she could take Cressida's place, but now that Cressida has returned and is so valued by the King, Rose has become unnecessary!"
"If you really can't bear to part with her, give her some money and have Tatum help her settle somewhere. That's enough."
Clio stared at him in shock, never expecting that Patrick, who usually paid little attention to household matters, would be so firm about this for Cressida's sake.
After years of marriage, Clio had long figured out Patrick's character.
Patrick was not someone who loved his children—he only cared about his own prospects.
His current favoritism toward Cressida was mostly because he felt she had won Doyle and Sophie's favor.
Rose, on the other hand, had nothing and no family background, making her unnecessary in Patrick's eyes!
Clio suppressed her frustration and said, "Mr. Hamilton, we need to think this through carefully. Keeping Rose means keeping our options open."
"What do you mean?" Patrick frowned.
Clio glanced at Tatum, who went out and closed the door.
"Do you really think our daughter Cressida is reliable? At the church, she dared to make a scene with me over Zaid's matter, even jumping into the lake and cutting her hair. In the future, she'll fight us to the bitter end over other things, regardless of the family's honor."
At this point, Patrick frowned.
Speaking of the church incident, Cressida was indeed in the wrong!
Why did Cressida make such a big scene? All of Emerald City knew about it, and it even alarmed Doyle.
Instead of reporting to the authorities, Cressida threatened suicide—she clearly wasn't obedient.
Seeing Patrick's expression soften, Clio continued:
"Mr. Hamilton, don't forget how domineering she was when she first came home. You're her father, but relying on her military achievements, has she ever shown you the slightest respect?"
"The rewards the King gave her, she kept them all in her private vault. Has she ever thought about honoring us?"
Patrick's face gradually darkened, his large hand clenching into a fist.
"I'm her father. Without me, where would she be? If I hadn't been injured back then, she wouldn't have had the chance to go to the battlefield," he said heavily.
Clio nodded along: "Exactly! But she insists on thinking she's so capable, truly believing she's better than the whole family."
"Keeping Rose means that in the future, if Cressida becomes uncontrollable and we have to drive her away early, we'll still have Rose as a daughter to use for a marriage alliance to consolidate our family's position."
Hearing this, Patrick's determination to send Rose away gradually faded.
That's right—he couldn't put too much faith in Cressida just because of Doyle's momentary favor.
In this household, he, Patrick, was the head of the family, the master of the Hamilton family!
"Then we'll do as you say, but you must warn Rose not to cause any more trouble."
"Don't worry, she's always been well-behaved." Clio secretly breathed a sigh of relief.
Patrick sat for a while and then left to see Sable.
Clio wiped the sweat from her forehead with a handkerchief.
Tatum entered: "Lately Mrs. Sable Hamilton has been quite favored by Mr. Patrick Hamilton."
Clio pressed her temples: "Let him favor her. Sable can't get pregnant anyway. There's been too much going on in this house lately. Once things settle down, I'll go have a word with her."
Cressida had really caused her a huge problem!
Thinking of this, Clio felt her chest tighten again: "Tatum, help me back to bed for a while."
After resting at home for two more days, Cressida went out with Emma, taking advantage of the warm spring weather.
Patrick had specifically instructed the butler Noah to let her pass.
So without Clio's interference, Cressida smoothly took a carriage into the city.
She had the carriage stop at the market entrance and entered a teahouse herself, waiting in a private room on the second floor.
About thirty minutes later, a tall, stern figure pushed the door open.
Miguel had come.
Cressida stood to greet him.
Before leaving earlier, she had Emma make a trip to the Prince's palace with the jade pendant to invite Miguel to meet at the teahouse.
Though Cressida wasn't sure if Miguel would come, since she was already out, waiting a while wouldn't hurt.
Miguel sat across from her, his manner calm, cold, even somewhat distant.
"Sit," he said. "Fully recovered?"
Cressida nodded and sat down: "Thank you for sending those soldiers to the church that day, Your Highness."
Otherwise, with the church located deep in the mountains, how could a military patrol have happened to pass by?
Besides Miguel, Cressida couldn't think of anyone else.
Miguel took a sip of tea, seemingly disliking it, and set it down again.
"Just a small favor, no need to thank me. I'd prefer you give me something more substantial in return."
Cressida had anticipated this and pulled a piece of paper from her sleeve, handing it over.
Miguel opened it and raised his eyebrows.
On the paper was a detailed layout map of the entire capital streets.
It was detailed down to the thirty-six districts and seventy-two alleys, all marked out.
"Ms. Hamilton, what's the meaning of this? Keeping maps privately—are you planning a rebellion?" Miguel's expression was full of intimidation.
Anyone with less courage, stared at with such eyes, would probably have already knelt down, for this was the aura of someone steeped in bloodshed and killing.
But Cressida's expression didn't change.
Novaria strictly controlled maps. Only military officers and the patrol department could have them; no one else was permitted to keep or draw them privately.
Otherwise, it would be suspected of plotting rebellion, since knowing all the routes would allow precise strikes at the city's most vulnerable points, making it a crucial strategic asset.
The current Terrence Wheeler had gained favor precisely by personally mapping out all of Suncrest City during his southern patrol.
Cressida calmly explained: "I drew this myself, and I have no intention of rebelling."
"I'm giving it to Your Highness because the Flower Festival is coming on February 2nd. That night there will be a lantern festival, and half of Emerald City will participate. It's the liveliest time, and also when trouble is most likely to occur."
"If I were Prince Yosef Russell, I would only need to stir up trouble that night, and the Royal Capital Second Guard, responsible for the capital's security that evening, would be held accountable from top to bottom. If I remember correctly, this force is currently under Prince Marshall Russell's command."
The sharp ring of a sword cut through the silence.
Miguel's body hadn't moved, but his sword-wielding hand had already shot out swiftly, the blade's tip steadily pressed against Cressida's throat.
A fierce sword wind rushed at her face, and a strand of hair by Cressida's ear was cleanly severed, floating lightly onto the rosewood table.
Her expression didn't change. She neither dodged nor panicked, her spine still straight.
Miguel narrowed his long eyes, his entire being radiating the cold, lethal aura of a predator ready to strike, every inch of him exuding an intimidating presence that warned others to stay away.
"Ms. Hamilton, do you know what you're recklessly discussing?"
"Your Highness, since I've decided to pledge my loyalty to you, I'm not afraid to discuss power struggles. Moreover, I'm already a piece on your board—right now I'm simply doing my best to serve you."
Cressida raised her eyes, her clear gaze meeting Miguel's directly.
There was no trace of timidity in her eyes, only burning ambition, so intense it seemed ready to burst from her gaze.
"The moment you dared to speak of the power struggle between Yosef and Marshall, I should have killed you."
"Your Highness won't do that. I know you also have ambitions for the throne."
His sword tip moved closer by half an inch. A slight pain came from her neck, the cold touch making every inch of skin tense.
"Cressida," Miguel said slowly, his voice laced with coldness, "do you really think I won't strike?"
Cressida slowly raised her chin, actively moving closer to the sword tip, her eyes showing no wavering: "I said before, everything I have puts Your Highness first."
"Prince Yosef Russell will never pass up such a perfect opportunity as the Flower Festival. Right now he needs a blade—a blade that can weaken Prince Marshall Russell's power."
"And Your Highness can simply watch from the sidelines. I have a way to make you the ultimate winner in this power game."