My Maids are All Final Villainesses-Chapter 35: Weak King

Cross was furious.

His entire body trembled as he stared at his son, his chest rising and falling heavily as if each breath carried a storm inside it.

The man who stood as one of the highest authorities in the Holy Kingdom, the Prime Minister of Light, the right hand of the Holy King himself, now looked less like a composed noble and more like a father whose patience had been shattered beyond repair.

"This brat... this damned brat..."

His voice cracked, yet it grew louder, echoing across the grand hall as every minister, knight, and attendant turned their full attention toward him.

"In the past, you were respectful. You knew your place. You knew what it meant to stand before His Majesty. You knew what it meant to carry the name of Valmont!"

His finger pointed straight at Clay, shaking with rage.

"But now? Now look at you!"

"You stand there like a stranger! You ignore your father as if my words are nothing but air!"

His tone rose higher, sharper.

"You flirt with a maid in front of the entire court! You speak out of turn! You interrupt His Majesty! And now... you! You! You!?"

The ministers began to murmur again, their voices filled with agreement, their earlier satisfaction returning as they watched Cross unleash his fury.

"That’s right..."

"He deserves it..."

"Unfilial... completely unfilial..."

"This is what happens when a child is not disciplined properly..."

Some even nodded, their expressions turning smug as if they were enjoying the spectacle.

"Even if he is talented, such behavior cannot be tolerated."

"He should be punished severely."

"Otherwise, what kind of example does that set for the rest of the kingdom?"

The murmurs spread like a wave.

And yet, in the middle of it all, Clay stood there, he was completely still as if everything around him had been muted.

So loud...

His eyes half-lidded, his mind felt heavy, not from fear, not from pressure, but from exhaustion.

I just woke up after finally getting proper rest... and now this...

He let out a slow breath.

I should’ve just stayed in my room...

Cross saw that expression.

That lack of reaction.

That absence of fear, of guilt, of even basic acknowledgment.

And that made his anger explode even further.

"You... you are not even listening to me!"

"You think this is a joke?"

"You think standing here before His Majesty is some kind of game?"

His voice boomed.

"If not for the fact that you are my son, I would have already struck you down myself!"

Beside Clay, Cerys moved.

Just a step forward.

Her eyes turned cold.

"You all—"

But before she could finish, Clay raised his hand slightly.

"Maid."

His voice was calm.

Simple.

Yet it carried enough weight to stop her instantly.

She froze.

Her lips parted, but no words came out. 𝑓𝘳𝑒𝑒𝓌𝘦𝘣𝘯ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝘤𝑜𝑚

"He’s my father," Clay continued quietly. "Let me handle it."

Cerys blinked.

Then immediately lowered her head.

"...Yes, young master."

Her voice softened, respectful, but there was a faint tremble in it.

She stepped back.

Yet inside her chest, her heart was beating faster than before.

Why... did I step forward like that...

Her fingers curled slightly.

Why did I feel like... I wanted to kill them... just because they were shouting at him...

Her face began to redden.

And why... am I calling him master Clay in my head so naturally now...

She bit her lip.

Am I still acting... or...

She couldn’t finish the thought.

Because the answer made her feel something she wasn’t ready to face.

Meanwhile, Clay’s gaze flickered toward her.

And he felt it again.

That faint, dangerous presence.

That violent aura lingering beneath her surface.

It’s still there...

His expression tightened slightly.

That bloodthirsty mana... I need to make it disappear completely...

He clicked his tongue internally and he exhaled slowly.

I already got the ability... might as well use it properly.

His hand reached out.

He gently pulled her closer.

Cerys blinked in surprise as she was suddenly drawn into his arms.

"Young master?"

Her voice came out soft, confused.

Clay leaned slightly closer, lowering his voice so only she could hear.

"Maid... you felt something strange inside your body, right?"

Cerys froze.

Her eyes widened just a little.

He noticed.

He knew.

"I..."

She hesitated.

"Don’t worry," Clay said quietly. "I’ll fix it."

Then, without waiting for her reply, he added,

"So... dance with me for a bit."

Cerys’ mind went blank.

"D-Dance...?"

But before she could process it, Clay had already taken her hand.

His other hand rested lightly at her waist.

And then—

He calmly and slowly moved, pulling her into a trance.

As if they were not in the middle of a royal court filled with nobles, ministers, and the Holy King himself.

As if none of it mattered.

Meanwhile, the entire hall froze, their eyes widened and the mouths agaped.

"What... is he doing..."

"In front of His Majesty...?"

"Is he insane...?"

Cross nearly choked on his own breath.

"You damn brat!!!"

His roar shook the hall.

"Have you completely lost your mind?!"

"You dare dance with your maid in front of the Holy King?!"

"Do you have no shame?! No sense of propriety?! No understanding of what is appropriate behavior in a royal court?!"

His voice continued, relentless.

"This is not some tavern! This is not your private estate! This is the Holy Castle!"

"You are insulting not just His Majesty, but the entire kingdom with this disgraceful act!"

His hands trembled as he pointed again.

"You think this is charming? You think this is acceptable?"

"You think anyone here finds this amusing?"

The ministers echoed him.

"Disgraceful!"

"Unacceptable!"

"This is an insult to the court!"

But Clay did not stop.

Not even for a second.

His movements remained smooth.

Controlled.

His hand, resting on Cerys’ waist, slowly began to emit a faint, warm energy.

It seeped into her body.

Into her veins.

Into the very core of her being.

Cerys gasped softly.

Her eyes trembled.

This feeling...

The violent urges inside her.

The cold, ruthless thoughts.

The desire to kill.

All of it...

Felt like they are being washed away.

Bit by bit.

Young master...

Her gaze softened completely.

Her body relaxed in his arms.

Her face flushed deeper.

Not from embarrassment.

But from something warmer.

Something gentler.

Meanwhile, the court could only watch in stunned silence as the two continued.

Even Cross’s shouting began to fade into the background.

Because something about this scene...

Felt wrong.

Felt unnatural.

Felt... beyond their understanding.

And then—

A loud laugh echoed.

"Hahahaha!"

All eyes turned.

The Holy King.

Guren himself was laughing.

Not angrily.

Not coldly.

But with genuine amusement.

"This is interesting..."

His eyes gleamed as he watched Clay.

"Very interesting..."

At that moment, Clay stopped.

The dance ended.

Cerys remained close to him, her face completely red, her breathing slightly uneven.

Clay turned his gaze toward the throne.

Calm.

Unbothered.

"As I said earlier," he spoke, his tone casual. "I don’t want to be tied down."

His finger lifted.

And pointed directly at Frazanna.

"So I hope you keep your promise."

"Annul the marriage just like our deal back then..."

Gasps spread across the hall.

Cross nearly collapsed.

"You... you still dare...!"

He turned toward the Holy King and immediately knelt again.

"Your Majesty! Please forgive him! My son has clearly lost his mind! I will discipline him properly!"

He lowered his head deeply.

"I beg for your forgiveness on his behalf!"

But Guren only waved his hand.

"It’s fine."

His gaze remained on Clay.

Sharp.

Curious.

"Your son is... quite entertaining."

Then—

Clay spoke again.

"Old man."

Cross froze.

Slowly turning his head.

Clay looked at him.

With the same calm expression.

"Don’t kneel to him."

A pause.

Then—

"He’s weak."

Silence.

Absolute silence.

"If you want..."

Clay’s voice remained steady.

"I can make you replace him."

And in that moment—

The entire hall fell into complete, stunned shock.