EVERYONE FEARED THE DUKE’S DAUGHTER… BECAUSE NO ONE HAD EVER TOLD HER “NO” UNTIL THIS HAPPENED

Chapter 4

The funeral was a grand affair. Hundreds of mourners filled the family chapel. Black carriages lined the road for miles. Rain fell softly as Duke Edward’s coffin was lowered into the ground, and the priest’s words drifted across the crowd like smoke.

Victoria stood beside her mother, dressed in black silk, her face hidden behind a veil of fine lace. She shed tears during the ceremony. She genuinely loved her father. But even as she mourned, she remained strangely confident.

Life would continue as before. She was still Lady Victoria. The estate was still her home. The servants still belonged to the household. Nothing important would change.

At least, that was what she believed.

Three days after the funeral, Victoria entered the great hall expecting breakfast. The moment she crossed the doorway, she stopped.

Someone was sitting in her father’s chair.

Lord Percival, Duke Edward’s elder brother, sat at the head of the table as if he had always belonged there. He was a broad-shouldered man with a gray beard and cold eyes — eyes that swept over Victoria without warmth. Several lawyers stood nearby, holding leather folders and official documents. The atmosphere in the room felt wrong. Cold. Unfamiliar.

Victoria’s mouth opened before her brain could catch up. “What is this?”

Lord Percival looked up. “Good morning, Victoria.”

“Get out of that chair.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I said get out of that chair. It belongs to my father.”

Lord Percival did not move. “No.”

The single word struck Victoria harder than a physical blow. For a moment, she simply stared at him. Nobody had ever spoken to her that way. Nobody. Her mind scrambled for an explanation. Perhaps he was joking. Perhaps this was some kind of terrible misunderstanding.

“Excuse me?” she managed.

Lord Percival folded his hands on the table. “The estate now belongs to me. Your father’s title, his lands, his wealth — all of it. I am the legal heir.”

Victoria laughed. The sound was sharp and brittle. “You must be joking.”

“I assure you, I am not.”

She turned to the lawyers. “Explain this to me. Now.”

One of the lawyers stepped forward, avoiding her eyes. “My lady, according to the inheritance laws governing this estate, the title and property pass through the male line. Your father had no sons. Therefore, the legal heir is his elder brother.”

“The legal heir,” Victoria repeated slowly. “You mean to tell me that I — his daughter, his only child — inherit nothing?”

“The law is clear, my lady.”

“But the estate has been in our family for generations. My father built this. I grew up here. This is my home.”

Lord Percival’s voice cut through. “It was your home, Victoria. Now it is mine.”

The room became very still. Victoria felt something crack inside her chest — a wall she had been leaning on her entire life, suddenly giving way.

“No,” she said, the word escaping her lips like a child’s plea. “No. You cannot do this. This is my home. This belongs to me.”

“No,” Lord Percival replied calmly. “It does not.”

Her entire body began to shake. For years, she had commanded this estate. For years, people had obeyed her without hesitation. She turned toward the servants standing along the walls, searching for the familiar faces she had known her entire life.

“You,” she said, pointing at a footman. “Remove him from this room.”

The footman did not move.

“Did you hear me? Remove him!”

The old butler — a man who had served her family for forty years — slowly stepped forward. His face was lined with sadness. “My lady,” he said softly. “We no longer serve you.”

The words hit Victoria harder than her father’s death. Harder than the lawyer’s explanation. Harder than anything she had ever heard. She felt the ground shift beneath her feet, the room spinning around her.

“But you have always served me. You have known me since I was a child.”

“And we remember you as a child, my lady. That is why this is so difficult.”

The butler’s eyes met hers for a moment. There was no anger in them. No satisfaction. Only a deep, weary sadness that spoke of decades of watching, decades of knowing, decades of silence.

Victoria looked around the hall. The servants would not meet her gaze. The lawyers were examining their documents. Lord Percival was sipping tea as if nothing unusual was happening.

For the first time in her life, Victoria had given a command that nobody obeyed.

And for the first time in her life, she understood that the world did not belong to her after all.

She stood alone in the center of the great hall, surrounded by people who had no reason to help her, and realized with a terror that felt like drowning — she had no idea what to do next.