Chapter 314

"Gift?" Isabella immediately recoiled, shaking her head. "Mr. Baldwin, that's very kind of you..."

Her voice trailed off as she took another step back. "But I can't accept anything. I didn't bring you a gift either. This is too much."

The warmth in Frederick Baldwin's gesture made her chest tighten. After the Lockhart family's downfall and her marriage into the Blackwood family, all she'd known was cold judgment and resentment.

This unexpected kindness stung with guilt. The entire charade weighed heavier on her conscience now.

Nathaniel's grandfather frowned, his expression turning serious. "Nonsense. I don't give gifts lightly. As the future lady of the Baldwin estate, you deserve nothing less than a proper dowry."

"A dowry?" Isabella's stomach twisted. She shot a desperate look at Julian, who deliberately avoided her gaze.

"Grandfather," Julian interjected smoothly, "the Blackwoods gave her a billion-dollar mansion. Surely we can do better than that?"

"Money?" Frederick scoffed, his lip curling at the mention of Harborview City's elite family. "Only nouveau riche like the Blackwoods would measure worth in currency."

With a proud gesture, he indicated the assembled soldiers. "You're Arthur Lockhart's granddaughter - born to lead. It's a shame your father abandoned his military legacy for business and failed spectacularly."

His piercing gaze locked onto Isabella. "That's why I'm giving you Shadow Legion."

Isabella's breath caught. "An... entire legion?"

She'd expected jewels, property, perhaps even stocks. Never this.

"My personal elite force," Frederick confirmed, removing a medal from his uniform. "Each soldier handpicked for exceptional skill. They answer only to the bearer of this insignia."

As the weighty metal touched her palm, Frederick turned to the troops. "From this moment, your allegiance belongs to General Lockhart!"

Five hundred voices roared in unison: "For General Lockhart!"

The protest died on Isabella's lips. Something primal stirred in her blood as she met their disciplined gazes.

Childhood memories surfaced - her grandfather's war stories, her secret dreams of military glory, of restoring the Lockhart name through battlefield honor rather than boardrooms.

Fingers closing around the medal, Isabella raised it high. Her voice carried across the field with unexpected command: "For honor! For victory!"

The answering cheer shook the ground beneath her feet.