Page 148 of The Villainess Chose Naps Over Death Flags

She was looking at him with... curiosity. Assessment. As if he were a puzzle to be solved rather than a threat to be avoided.

"This is our son, Caspian Vanthorn, Duke of Vanthorn," his mother said warmly. "Caspian, dear, Lady Caroline is Lord Jasper's sister. You remember Lord Jasper from the Academy?"

"Briefly," Caspian said. "Before I was asked to leave."

Silence fell, as it always did when someone mentioned his abbreviated Academy education.

People never knew what to say. How to acknowledge that the Academy—the most prestigious magical institution in the kingdom—had politely but firmly requested that Caspian continue his education elsewhere because his unique powers were too dangerous to teach alongside other students.

Lady Caroline, apparently, had no such hesitation.

"I heard you destroyed three training halls," she said.

Caspian felt his eyebrows rise slightly. Her mother made a strangled sound. Her father's face went pale.

But Lady Caroline just looked at him, waiting for an answer, as if she'd asked about the weather.

"Two training halls and the dueling arena," Caspian corrected.

"On purpose?"

Was she... was she actually asking him this? In the middle of a formal introduction? With both their parents listening?

"The first one was an accident," Caspian said, deciding to answer honestly. "The other two were... requested demonstrations."

"Of your Matter Manipulation?" Lady Caroline asked, and there was genuine interest in her voice.

"Caroline," her mother hissed.

Caspian's father stepped in, his voice glacial. "Perhaps we should discuss more appropriate topics."

"Why?" Lady Caroline turned to face Duke Winterhelm directly. "Everyone already knows about it. Everyone talks about it behind your backs anyway. At least I'm being direct."

Caspian stared at her.

She'd just... she'd just called out the social hypocrisy that everyone pretended didn't exist. To a duke. To his face.

Either she was incredibly brave or incredibly foolish.

Possibly both.

"Caroline," her father said urgently. "Apologize."

"For what? Being honest?" Lady Caroline looked back at Caspian. "They call you The Butcher of the North. The Frost Reaper. Winter's Blade. I've heard at least a dozen terrifying titles attached to your name."

Her mother looked ready to faint.

Caspian waited for the usual fear to follow. For Lady Caroline to realize what she'd said and backtrack desperately.

Instead, she continued.

"But rumors are just rumors," she said. "People exaggerate. They fear what they don't understand. I don't believe everything I hear."

Something shifted in Caspian's chest.

She didn't believe everything she heard.

This noble lady, standing in a ballroom full of people who whispered about him in terror, was looking him in the eye and saying she didn't automatically believe the worst.