The Slave Queen - Chapter 49: Chapter 49

For reasons she couldn't quite explain, Raelynn felt a flicker of nervousness.
She had told herself countless times that she no longer cared what anyone thought of her—that the only person whose opinion truly mattered was Margot.
But somewhere deep in her heart, she still wished the stain of those false accusations could be washed away.
Now that all of Hazond City knew her as the palace maid who once offended the noble consort, what would Malcolm think of her?
Would he also see her as scheming and unworthy of being Shawn's wife?
Or had he agreed to this engagement merely out of obligation to an old promise?
At that moment, it wasn't just Raelynn who held her breath.
Everyone in the Lennox family—including Julia and Hugo—was waiting for Malcolm's response.
Yet among them, only Margot truly hoped for Raelynn's happiness.
Malcolm studied Raelynn for a moment, then broke into a hearty laugh.
"Good! Very good! So this is the granddaughter of Lady Margot—she truly carries the spirit of the Lennox family."
His words left no room for doubt, and the praise in his tone couldn't have been more direct.
Raelynn blinked, clearly surprised by the warmth of his approval.
At that moment, Shawn happened to glance her way.
For the first time, he saw a genuine, unguarded expression on her vivid, striking face—a flicker of astonishment and emotion that made something in his chest stir.
Not that he showed it.
After all, the engagement was set. There was no going back.
Still, marrying a woman he didn't dislike—maybe even found intriguing—was far preferable to having some stranger forced into his household by well-meaning relatives.
That thought alone gave him a headache.
Meanwhile, Malcolm continued his praise unabated, showering Raelynn with compliments that somehow didn't feel like flattery, but rather the sincere admiration of an elder who had taken a genuine liking to a younger generation.
Margot beamed with pride, her joy overflowing as she took Raelynn's hand. "My granddaughter," she said fondly, "is the one who takes after me the most. Now that I'm old, my biggest worry has been her future."
"When Ian came to break off the engagement, I worried for days. But now that Lord Shawn is willing to join our two families, I can finally let go of that burden."
As she spoke, her voice grew a touch wistful.
"If I can entrust Raelynn to the Lindsay family, then I can die with no regrets."
Hearing that, Raelynn quickly waved her hands. "Grandmother, don't say such things! Talking about death on a day like this—what are you thinking? Didn't Edgar say you're on the mend? You haven't even seen me walk down the aisle yet!"
"Yes, yes," Margot chuckled. "I misspoke. But seeing how eager you are to marry Lord Shawn—childhood sweethearts and all—I can finally rest easy."
She laughed cheerfully, clearly teasing.
Raelynn flushed pink.
She stole a glance at Shawn, worried he might think she truly harbored some kind of inappropriate affection for him.
Thankfully, his expression remained as calm as ever—like he hadn't even heard her words.
Relieved, Raelynn relaxed slightly.
Off to the side, Julia had been watching everything closely. She had assumed that Malcolm—stern, traditional, and so concerned with reputation—would never accept someone with a past like Raelynn's.
And yet... he seemed pleased?
She told herself it must be because he'd been away from court for too long, isolated from the gossip. He probably had no idea what kind of reputation Raelynn really had.
He was clearly only going along with this because of Margot.
Her anger turned toward Ian—useless, spineless man.
She'd handed him everything he needed on a silver platter.
He'd promised to go back and talk sense into Shawn, to bring up all of Raelynn's shameful past.
But now Shawn had shown up himself, and even brought Malcolm along.
Clearly, Ian hadn't done a damn thing.
Julia thought, 'Well, if Malcolm hasn't been told... then I would be the one to say it.'
Forcing down the venom in her heart, Julia put on a sweet, innocent smile.
With soft, graceful steps, she walked up to Raelynn and looped her arm through hers in a show of sisterly affection.
"Raelynn, what a blessing," she said sweetly. "To be chosen by Lord Shawn—what an honor. After all your hardships, it's wonderful to see you finally find happiness. I can rest easy now."
She paused, her voice catching just slightly, then added with a trembling sigh, "But I must ask one thing—please don't take out your frustrations on Ian in the future. If you must blame someone, blame me. It was my fault. Because of me, he broke off the engagement. If you're angry, let it all fall on my shoulders."
Her voice cracked, tears brimming in her eyes, just shy of falling.
But no one missed the real message behind her words. She was painting Raelynn as the jilted woman, the discarded former fiancée, the girl who had been sent to the palace as a maid and only then did Ian break things off.
She was ripping the veil off Raelynn's carefully guarded dignity, right in front of the Lindsay family.
She would never let Raelynn step over her, not without a fight.
The atmosphere in the hall shifted—everyone wore a different expression.