Interstellar: Return of the Villain
Chapter 206: Gossip? Lyra?

Chapter 206: Gossip? Lyra?

As the surveillance footage concluded, King Edmund gave Lyra a meaningful look before turning to the Admirals. "It seems the facts are quite clear now," he said calmly.

Frederick nodded, his face cold and unreadable. "Thank you, Your Majesty," he replied.

His gaze shifted to Eddie. The guy’s once arrogant expression now filled with shame.

"According to military law, report for punishment tomorrow," said Frederick.

As an admiral, and a fleet admiral at that, Frederick had the authority to bypass lower-ranking commanders and directly impose disciplinary measures, much to the dismay of Admiral Dale and Admiral Vince.

Their faces paled, but they couldn’t challenge Frederick’s authority, especially not in front of so many witnesses.

The whole situation had turned into a public humiliation, not only for them but for Eddie and his group, who had come looking for trouble only to be thoroughly defeated.

They were sure to become the laughingstock of the military and even the entire Alliance for some time.

With the incident seemingly resolved, the soft melodies of string instruments began to fill the air from the banquet hall, signaling the end of the drama.

The guests, following King Edmund, returned to the hall, eager to continue the evening.

Benedict approached Lyra, his eyes scanning her for injuries. Only when he saw she was unharmed did he breathe a sigh of relief.

"It’s outrageous! The military is full of lunatics!" he exclaimed, shaking his head at the audacity of causing a scene at the King’s banquet.

Noticing Lyra’s calm demeanor, he sighed. "Next time something like this happens, at least notify me. I may be old, but I can still have your back."

"I will," Lyra replied, though she wasn’t entirely confident in relying on Benedict as a solid protector. The nobility, after all, was losing its grip on power.

Just then, Aurelius, the prince, approached. With a graceful bow, he extended his hand. "Miss Shedd, may I have the honor of a dance?"

All eyes turned toward them. Lyra’s lips curved into a delicate smile, like a blooming rose. "Of course," she said, taking his hand.

As she placed her hand on his shoulder, her elegant facade momentarily gave way to a hint of coldness.

"You’re quite persistent, aren’t you?" she remarked, her tone icy beneath the politeness.

"I’m simply following orders," Aurelius responded coolly, his eyes briefly scanning the room. "Do you realize how many people have their eyes on you? They all want something."

Lyra, with her striking beauty, unmatched talent, and powerful superpowers, was a rare prize—one many coveted.

Beneath the ballroom’s golden lights, the ice-blue gemstone on her necklace shimmered, casting a faint glow against her pale skin.

She looked ethereal, like a star reflecting off freshly fallen snow. Yet, the cold glint in her eyes and the untouchable air around her made it clear that even those who desired her couldn’t get too close. To reach for her would be to risk getting burned—or rather, frozen.

Valeria, sipping her red wine in satisfaction, watched the young woman move effortlessly through the sea of admirers.

Turning to Frederick, she remarked with a chuckle, "I took a stroll around the garden just now. Aside from those poor fools who got beaten up, not a single flower petal or leaf was harmed. This girl’s control is something else."

The level of precision it took to manage such power without collateral damage spoke to the immense psychokinetic abilities Lyra possessed.

"Not surprising," Frederick said, his tone measured. He had clearly anticipated this level of skill.

Cohen noticed their conversation. His eyes were flickered with curiosity, as if there was something he wasn’t being told.

Valeria, always mischievous, turned to Cohen with a sly smile. "Cohen, since she’s your friend, why not ask her for a dance?"

Cohen nearly choked on his drink. ’Dance with her?’ He glanced over at Lyra, who had just finished her dance with Aurelius and was now being whisked away by Caspian for another round. He understood the underlying meaning of Valeria’s suggestion.

"No, thank you," he said quickly, standing up to pour drinks for his father and Valeria across from him. "She’s not someone who can be swayed by emotions or outside influences. She only deals in interests."

Cohen had spent enough time with Lyra to understand her well. She wasn’t someone easily moved by charm or affection.

"At the moment, she appears to be aligning with the nobles, but that’s only because she has no other choice. If you really want to win her over, it’s better to bring her into the military ranks. That’s been her goal all along. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have asked me for that NMA recommendation letter years ago."

Frederick nodded subtly. Lyra’s ambition was clear—she wasn’t content to be a mere pawn in the games of nobles and soldiers. She had her own plans, and joining the military was a key step in achieving them.

Valeria raised an eyebrow at Cohen’s self-assured tone. "You sure seem to know her well," she remarked with a teasing glint in her eye. "I always thought you, like your father, were a stone that’d never crack for anything."

Cohen chuckled, shaking his head. "Ma’am, what are you even talking about?" He threw a glance at Lyra as she gracefully left the dance floor, leaving a trail of admirers and envious stares in her wake.

People like her, he thought, always left others looking at her distant backs, forever out of reach.

Frederick, watching his son’s brief distraction, said nothing but observed in his typical quiet, discerning manner.

As the evening progressed and the moon reached its zenith, the banquet finally came to an official close.

King Edmund made a few concluding remarks before formally ending the night.

Lyra, who had arrived in a royal convoy, was naturally escorted out the same way. This time, though, Aurelius personally opened the car door for her, a move that caught the attention of everyone present, making the exit all the more dramatic.

Outside, the waiting journalists went wild, cameras flashing like a starry night as they captured the moment. Their minds were already racing to draft tomorrow’s front-page headlines.

Settling into the back seat, Lyra glanced up as Aurelius leaned in, his voice low and serious. "If I were you, I wouldn’t get too wrapped up with the nobility right now."

The meaning was clear—the noble class was sinking, and anyone too close would eventually go down with them.

Reclining comfortably, Lyra responded without a care. "Ever heard the saying? Even when a tree’s about to fall, it still casts a long shadow."

Just before the car door shut, her eyes caught Admiral Dale’s from across the garden.

She offered him a faint smile—a gesture that only darkened the old man’s already stormy expression. The rage simmering behind his eyes was palpable, but Lyra wasn’t the least bit fazed.

Unless Dale was prepared to attack a royal convoy in front of so many journalists’ lenses, there was little he could do to her.

Admiral Dale clenched his fists but restrained himself. He wasn’t that reckless. As the convoy sped off, he spat bitterly, "Arrogant little..."

Vince, standing beside him, chuckled, attempting to soothe the old man’s anger. "Why are you so worked up? She’s just a nuisance. Nothing more."

Despite the tension, the two Admirals exchanged knowing glances. The ballroom may have been filled with nobles and military elites, but the divide between them had never been more obvious.

Vince’s smirk grew. "Let them enjoy their little victories. The Alliance Assembly is just around the corner. We’ll see how long their smugness lasts."

With that, the two Admirals headed to their respective Lev vehicles, the undercurrents of their plotting hanging in the air.

Aurelius, overhearing their whispered exchange, let out a quiet scoff. Whether the noble faction sank or swam was of no consequence to him. Even if their ship were unsinkable, it wouldn’t be enough to change his fate.

...

The next morning, the royal banquet dominated the news and social media, with endless chatter about who wore what and how much their outfits had cost.

But all the gossip paled in comparison to the headline that skyrocketed to the top of the trending list: "Prince Aurelius and Lyra Shedd: A Royal Romance?"

Accompanying the article were photos of Aurelius and Lyra dancing together, as well as the now-iconic shot of him personally escorting her to the royal Lev.

The comment section exploded with fans "shipping" the pair, calling them a perfect match, with some even pleading for a royal wedding.

It was clear the narrative was being tightly controlled—any dissenting comments were quickly buried under waves of praise.

Meanwhile, Lyra, sitting in her office, couldn’t help smirking at the absurdity of it all. The gossip was almost too ridiculous.

"Boss, should we do something about this?" Morrison asked, his brow furrowed in concern.

The thought of his no-nonsense boss being caught up in some romantic scandal seemed so absurd, it was almost laughable.

The idea of his boss being involved in a romantic scandal felt more like seeing pigs fly than anything real.

"The royal family making a move on YOU? The nerve of them..." he muttered.

Lyra waved it off, completely unbothered. "No need. Let them play their games. It’s out of my hands anyway."

She leaned back in her chair, her smile widening. "Let’s sit back and watch them tear each other apart."

The fuse had been lit, and now Lyra had positioned herself perfectly, watching as the fires of rivalry between the military, nobility, and the royal family grew hotter. She knew exactly how to fan the flames when the time came.

...

Soon enough, the highly anticipated Alliance Assembly kicked off, drawing representatives from every faction in Alliance. The atmosphere was tense, the weight of ambition and power hovering over the proceedings.

But the first shockwave hit early in the session when the military delegation proposed a bombshell reform: the revocation of the nobility’s right to private land ownership.