“…I believe we need some time to think this through.”
Aiden replied hesitantly. A thick vein pulsed on Duke Glasster’s forehead.
“Time to think? This is an urgent matter—!”
The duke, unable to curb his habit, began to raise his voice, but before he could, Anje stepped in front of Aiden as if shielding him.
“This is sudden news, and we need time to consider what to do next.”
“Consider? What nonsense is that? The throne is at stake—what is there to think about?”
Anje dropped even the pretense of her usual smiling mask and glared at the duke.
“If your assumption is correct, Father, then this would mean significant changes for our future. We need time to process this.”
“You foolish—”
The duke huffed angrily, about to lash out, but stopped himself when he met Anje’s unyielding gaze.
‘Tch, this insolent girl. I raised her too delicately.’
He was displeased with his daughter’s defiant attitude. However, he needed Anje and Aiden’s cooperation to secure power.
Not only would he need their help in locating the former emperor’s marriage certificate, but if they allied themselves with another noble to reclaim the throne, he might have to share power.
‘If I push too hard from the start, who knows how they might betray me later.’
After all, they were, in name, the emperor and empress. He decided to coax his daughter and bring her to his side at all costs.
“Y-Yes. I can understand how you might feel overwhelmed by this sudden change. How about you come and stay at the duke’s estate for a while to think things over? We can attend the opera you like, ask the chef to prepare macarons, and… Oh, let’s have a few dresses made for you—far better ones than the shabby one you’re wearing now.”
If I take her to the mansion, coax her gently while applying subtle pressure, and handle her properly, she’ll give in soon enough.
But contrary to his hopes, Anje only showed a disinterested expression.
“I’m rather busy with farm work right now. The hay hasn’t fully dried yet.”
She no longer trusted her father.
Whether or not Aiden was truly a legitimate imperial descendant, she was certain her father wasn’t revealing this information with good intentions.
From his dismissive remark about her beloved work dress as “shabby,” it was clear he hadn’t changed.
Feigning sentiment, the duke rubbed at his eyes.
“How cold of you. Do you know how much this father of yours has missed you?”
For someone who missed her so much, he hadn’t sent a single letter—not even a scolding one. He hadn’t attended her wedding, nor sent a dowry or a gift.
Anje held back the urge to point this out. She had no desire to prolong the conversation.
“Everyone in the capital misses you dearly. How about we hold a ball after so long? Have you been lonely, hmm?”
Miss me? What nonsense. Suppressing a snort, Anje replied curtly.
The duke’s face darkened with displeasure.
“Even if you’re married and technically an outsider now, you should still consider the honor of the Glasster family. Associating with lowborn commoners will taint you with their filthy behavior—”
Anje silently thought of the people of Leslie, one by one. Aunt Meg, who always took care of her warmly like family; Miss Mary, who brought joy with her cheerful chatter; Jean-Pierre, a somewhat peculiar but passionate man devoted to his work; and the other kind and friendly people.
When everything around her had felt unfamiliar and awkward, it was their kindness that allowed her to eventually blend into this place.
In comparison, what had this person—who only bore the title of “father”—ever done for her happiness?
The love he’d shown her was like perfume—artificial, sweet-smelling, and distilled from alcohol to mimic the scent of flowers.
“The people of Leslie are kind and good-hearted. They may be commoners by status, but in terms of character, they far surpass you, Father.”
Just as the duke was about to explode in anger, Aiden, who had been standing behind, stepped forward between them.
The man, a head taller than the duke, exuded a threatening aura despite his expressionless face.
“Thank you for the invitation, but I must decline this time. We will discuss your proposal as a couple and send you a letter regarding our decision.”
The duke looked at Aiden up and down with uneasy eyes.
‘He’s just an ignorant country bumpkin. He wouldn’t attack me out of nowhere, would he?’
Even though he had come secretly, avoiding the emperor’s eyes, he regretted not bringing along at least two or three mercenaries.
It was the first time the duke really paid attention to Aiden, and he had no idea just how imposing and muscular he was. The duke had thought him a weak, gullible country bumpkin who could be easily swayed with a few words, not someone to be taken seriously.
“Well then, goodbye.”
Aiden firmly took the duke’s hand and shook it up and down. Despite applying little force, the duke was shaken up and down like a sheet of paper.
“Y-Y…Yes. In that case, I will wait for y-your reply…”
The Duke, trying to save face, scurried out of the drawing room. The Fitzroys also followed to escort him to the entrance—or, more accurately, to hurry him out.
The butler, who had been glancing around the Dilton family’s interior as he followed them, cautiously spoke up.
“By the way, Sir Aiden, did you happen to come across any documents among Mrs. Dilton or Mr. Dilton’s belongings that might be the marriage certificate? Or perhaps any items that could be hiding such a document?”
The duke was certain that if the marriage certificate existed, it would be hidden somewhere within the imperial palace, but the butler thought he should thoroughly consider all possibilities.
Since recklessly opposing the duke’s opinion would usually lead to getting beaten, he was only able to express his doubts here.
Aiden searched his memory and shook his head.
“I personally organized all the belongings left behind by my mother and grandfather, but there was nothing like that. The medal I brought to the Imperial Palace was the only clue.”
When his grandfather passed away unexpectedly, leaving him unable to learn the truth about his birth, Aiden desperately searched through the belongings left in the house. However, there was no evidence that Nancy Dilton had ever been married, let alone any clues about who his father might have been—just a single cryptic emblem.
Even after flipping through her diary and carefully examining every drawing his mother had ever made, it was the same: nothing.
The duke arrogantly interjected, as though it were his own idea.
“Well, this place cannot be excluded from consideration either. How about searching this house while investigating the Imperial Palace?”
Clapping his hands as though he had come up with a brilliant idea, he shouted,
“Ah, yes! Sir Aiden, just sell me this house. I’ll pay you handsomely!”
Seeing him rubbing his palms together with a sly grin, Aiden and Anje were left speechless. Sell the house? Where had this sudden notion come from?
The butler voiced their collective confusion.
“You mean… you want to buy this house, Your Grace?”
“Yes. I’ll have people scour it from the rooftop to the basement. There might be a hidden space inside the pillars or behind the walls. We’ll dismantle everything from the top down and break it apart to see inside. It should take about a week, don’t you think?”
“…”
“Oh, and while you’re at it, sell me the family heirlooms and furniture too, if possible. We’ll smash them open to check inside.”
“…”
“Just in case, that shed over there—what is it? A hut?—and those old trees should be uprooted as well. And we should dig up the ground, don’t you think?”
TL/N: ANJE, AIDEN, ME AND THE READERS HONEST REACTION BE LIKE:
Anje, trembling with anger, slowly raised her index finger and pointed towards the carriage.
“Please leave immediately, Your Grace.”
She regretted not having a gun at that moment. If she had one, she might have shoved it into his detestable mouth and told him to shut up.
“I’ll escort you to your carriage.”
Aiden grabbed the duke’s right arm with deliberate insolence.
Sell the beloved Dilton Farm so recklessly? And to someone who planned to dismantle it beyond recognition, blinded by greed?
It seemed pointless to express anger or discomfort to someone who wouldn’t understand, and neither of them wanted to continue the conversation.
“But I’m telling you, I’ll pay a generous price!”
The duke protested, his face filled with dissatisfaction, as Aiden practically dragged him out. However, faced with the overwhelming presence of Aiden and Anje, he couldn’t persist.
Thus, Duke Glasster and his party left, having stirred up turmoil in the once peaceful Dilton Farm.
* * *
“It’s not in the attic.”
“Same here.”
Anje and Aiden, after thoroughly searching every corner of the house, let out a defeated sigh and sat down at the kitchen table.
Although they hadn’t gone so far as to dismantle the house, as the Duke had suggested, they had moved furniture and old belongings around to inspect every inch of the place. Yet, there wasn’t even a trace of the marriage certificate anywhere.
Tap, tap—
The neat and luxurious drawing room filled with high-end furniture was nice, but for the two of them, this kitchen space felt more familiar and comfortable. On the checkered tablecloth lay a slightly dented tin kettle, which Anje had accidentally dropped on the floor, and matching teacups they had chosen together.
The cupboard was always stocked with candies or cookies, and the warmth of the oven stove welcomed visitors warmly.
Anje fiddled with her teacup, lost in thought.
‘Maybe…’
Maybe the reason they had guided the Duke of Glasster to the drawing room wasn’t merely to offer proper hospitality.
This kitchen was the sanctuary of the Fitzroys. A cherished space filled with memories of their arguments, reconciliations, laughter, and tears.
Unless they were residents of Leslie, they didn’t want the cold, dark feet from the duke’s estate to leave their traces here.
Trickle—
Aiden poured rich milk tea into her teacup, adding sugar to match her taste.
She reached out and placed her hand gently over the back of his.
“You must have been quite startled by everything that happened today, Aiden.”
* * * *
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