Chapter 411

No matter how ruthless Alexander Knight could be, he couldn’t defy his ancestors.

Yet, their presence was still essential in every town.

As expected, the four elders in the old manor were subdued.

“She is still your mother in the end. Let her in,” William Blackwood was the first to relent.

What Eleanor Blackwood was about to say was cut off by Richard Blackwood. Richard knew his son better than anyone. Everyone was aware of his son’s merciless nature. Once Alexander decided to marry Sophia, anyone who stood in his way would regret it.

They could only watch as Alexander carried Sophia into the grand hall with an air of dominance. The last time Sophia had entered this hall, she had been treated like a prisoner.

But this time—

She was the wife of the most powerful man in the room.

The lady of the house.

Neither the old man seated at the head of the table nor Sophia, cradled in Alexander’s arms, could quite adjust to the shift.

“What should I say?” Sophia whispered to Alexander.

“Say whatever you want,” Alexander replied coolly.

Sophia hesitated.

She didn’t know what to say.

She didn’t even want to speak. William Blackwood had repeatedly humiliated and slandered her, leaving an indelible scar on her heart. Even if the old man doted on Lily now, Sophia couldn’t bring herself to smile at him.

Then there were Eleanor and Richard. The way they looked at Sophia made it abundantly clear—she wasn’t welcome.

So, Sophia chose silence.

“You don’t have to speak,” Alexander said.

Sophia glanced up at him. Does that mean I can stay quiet?

Alexander smirked. “You’re so stubborn, you don’t even have half of our daughter’s adaptability. If you don’t want to talk, then don’t.”

Sophia bit her lip, her cheeks flushing.

She knew this was his way of teasing her.

Because of their daughter, she had to face this scrutiny.

Seated across from Richard and Eleanor, Sophia remained silent, not even meeting her in-laws’ eyes. She pretended she was invisible.

It was William who finally broke the tension. “Now that you’ve entered this family, shouldn’t you at least observe basic etiquette?”

Sophia’s lips pressed tighter.

“You old fool,” Grace Blackwood chided from beside him. “Must you frighten your granddaughter and daughter-in-law like this? Sophia, dear, come here. Let me see you. I’ve prepared a gift—one I originally meant for your mother-in-law. But since she’s no longer with us, I’ll give it to you instead. Come here.”

Sophia’s eyes stung with unshed tears.

“Call me Grandma,” the old woman coaxed gently.

“Grandma…” Sophia whispered.

Sophia wasn’t cold by nature. In truth, she bloomed under kindness.

She just hadn’t been given much warmth in her life.

“Sophia, come closer,” Grace urged, already opening an intricately carved rosewood box beside her.

She was clearly about to present Sophia with something precious.

At first, Sophia didn’t move.

She liked Grace, but she knew her place. She wouldn’t take what wasn’t rightfully hers.

She didn’t need charity.

But Alexander, ever impatient, grabbed her wrist and pulled her forward. “Grandma is calling you. Where are your manners?”

Sophia shot him a glare. You said I didn’t have to speak!

This man!

So infuriating.

“Go,” Alexander commanded, his expression unyielding.

Sophia huffed but obeyed. Fine. If Grace wanted to give her something, she’d take it.

She’d keep it as her own private treasure.

Blushing, she approached Grace and bowed slightly. “Grandma.”

“Ah, what a lovely girl,” Grace murmured, studying her. “You remind me so much of your mother—her strength, her grace. Though she wasn’t my son’s first wife, she was a remarkable woman. Talented, independent. She didn’t spend much time with me, but she always knew how to make me happy.”

Grace spoke of Victoria Blackwood, Alexander’s late mother. Sophia’s chest tightened at the memory of the kind woman who had passed too soon.

“Grandma…” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

Grace smiled warmly and took Sophia’s hand. “Here, I want you to have these.”

She lifted a pair of golden-hued bracelets from the box, their surfaces gleaming like sunlight on honey.

“These citrine bracelets have been in the Blackwood family for generations. I meant to give them to your mother, but she left us too soon. Now, I pass them to you. May they protect you always.”

Citrine?

Sophia wasn’t well-versed in gemstones, but she knew heirlooms when she saw them. She recoiled. “Grandma, these are too precious. I can’t accept them.”

Behind her, Victoria Sullivan and Olivia Sullivan—standing near Eleanor—nearly choked on their envy. Their eyes burned with jealousy.

“Mother,” Eleanor interjected sharply, “if Sophia doesn’t want them, there’s no need to force her. She’s only just arrived—”

Sophia turned and met Eleanor’s icy gaze.

Then she saw Olivia’s murderous glare.

Something inside her snapped.

She hadn’t stolen anything. Grace had offered freely, and Alexander had insisted.

Fine. She’d take them.

At least they’d be something to leave for Lily.

The citrine bracelets, now adorning Sophia’s wrists, complemented her fair skin perfectly, lending her an air of quiet elegance. The only discordant note was her oversized, frumpy dress—hardly a match for such exquisite jewelry.

When she returned to Alexander’s side, his gaze lingered on her.

His little wife was extraordinary.

Everything she wore seemed to glow.

He recognized the bracelets instantly—Blackwood heirlooms, passed down for centuries. He hadn’t expected Grace to give them to Sophia.

But then again, Sophia had always been full of surprises.