From Slave To Queen (by Karyn Anderson) novel Chapter 207

Nicolas’s very first stop was the Beren Residence, home to the Minister of Finance,

His unexpected arrival threw the Beren family into a state of high alert, as if they were bracing for an attack.

Alred had come out to greet him and had the servants serve hot coffee. With a polite smile, he said, “Lord Nicolas, your presence brings honor to my

humble abode.”

Nicolas wore a perfunctory smile in response before he glanced down at his cup.

Noticing a revolting layer of coffee scum floating on the surface, he wrinkled his nose and thought, “Disgusting”

Nicolas set down the cup and cast a disdainful glance around the room.

‘The furnishings in the room are so shabby, they might as well have belonged to any commoner’s household,‘ he pondered.

Even the chair Nicolas sat on had a missing leg, and it was propped up with nothing but a brick. He couldn’t help but wonder, ‘Seriously? They can’t even afford a proper chair here?‘

He turned his attention back to Alfred. Perhaps it was simply because he was at home; Alred’s everyday clothes bore several patches, the fabric was faded and tattered from countless washes, and they had lost their original color and texture.

Alfred was lean and wiry, yet his eyes shone with keen intelligence.

His gaze at Nicolas held both scrutiny and surprise, yet was completely devoid of any flattery.

Nicolas turned to Alfred and said, “Prince Fermin is deeply remorseful that your daughter was injured at the gala dinner, and has specifically instructed me to deliver this healing balm.”

With that, his attendant promptly placed the Snowveil Balm on the table.

Nicolas allowed himself a faint smirk as he thought tisfaction, ‘This Snowveil Balm is practically unobtainable.

‘Fortunately, Athena is so temperamental, and she only treats people when she feels like it.

‘If everyone had access to this balm, all my scheming would’ve been for nothing.’

Alfred gave the balm a skeptical once–over, then shot Nicolas a sharp, bewildered look.

Nicolas said with a confident smile, “Mr. Beren, there’s no need for such surprise. While the Snowveil Balm is indeed rare, I’d gladly spend a fortune to heal your daughter’s injury. It’s well worth it.”

Nicolas spoke with an air of superiority, utterly convinced that such a rare medicine would make Alfred weep with gratitude.

Just one bottle of balm to buy off this old fox. What a steal,‘ Nicolas thought with satisfaction.

Alfred straightened his posture ever so slightly, as Nicolas’s true intentions slowly dawned on him.

He was an incorruptible official who never engaged in factional disputes.

The court was in the heated throes of the succession crisis, with all the princes vying fiercely to win over key officials.

Refusing to take sides or make compromises, Alfred was a rare stalwart in the court, an unyielding rock amid the muddy currents.

But now, this political mud was flung right in front of him. Alfred’s expression grew cold as he fixed Nicolas with a steely gaze. He demanded, “Lord Nicolas, what exactly do you mean by this?”

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Chapter 207

Nicolas knew Alfred’s temper- he was as stubborn as a mule and just as disagreeable.

Nicolas thought, ‘It seems like a mere bottle of balm won’t be nearly enough to win Alfred over to Prince Fermin’s faction

Nicolas smirked, “Mr. Beren, why play coy? Prince Fermin, the Queen’s biological son and the most promising one among the princes, has always. admired you. This olive branch isn’t extended lightly. Think carefully, lest you regret missing the opportunity of a lifetime.”

Alfred let out a derisive “Hmph,” his expression tuming stony as he said, “Spare me your words, Lord Nicolas. Kindly see yourself out

He had already made his stance clear in court, yet Nicolas still came knocking he truly had no sense of propriety.

Nicolas shot Alfred a sharp, surprised look as he questioned, “Mr. Beren, are you truly resolved? Even if it means your daughter’s face would be permanently disfigured?”

“Are you threatening me?” Alfred’s face darkened with fury as he asked.

Alfred was famously doting toward his daughter, and he wouldn’t give a star if she had asked for the moon.

At home, she was the apple of his eye.

For Nicolas to threaten him using his daughter was as good as striking his most sensitive nerve.

Unfortunately, Nicolas was unaware of that. He coldly sneered, “Burns aren’t like ordinary wounds. Without this Snowveil Balm, your beloved daughter’s face will surely be disfigured. Good luck finding her a husband after that!”

Alfred’s chest heaved with fury as he sprang to his feet.

Jabbing a finger right at Nicolas’s nose, he roared, “Get out! Get the hell out!”

Nicolas was utterly stunned. Born with a silver spoon in his mouth and raised in a distinguished family of scholars, he had never been subjected to such vulgar abuse.

Nicolas stood frozen in shock, completely at a loss for how to respond.

But not only did Alfred show no fear, he even grabbed the broom teaning by the door and struck Nicolas with it, roaring, “I’m not just going to curse you. Today, I’m going to beat you, too! If you’ve got the guts, go tell the King to confiscate my estate and throw my whole family in prison!”

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