129.

The Kalleid Duchy attempted to counter the Schmaikel Guild’s moves, but the situation only worsened by the hour.

“We’re getting nowhere!”

One of the vassals, scanning through documents, groaned, clutching his head.

“At this rate, Kalleid will suffer endless losses!”

Compared to the Marquess of Offenheir, Kalleid had limitations. Offenheir, for one, controlled numerous businesses and paid little mind to reputation or decorum. This allowed him to employ any means, legal or otherwise, to strike back at Schmaikel. Kalleid, on the other hand, as the only duchy in the Empire, was expected to uphold a level of dignity, demanded by the imperial family, the nobility, and Kalleid’s own vassals alike. Such standards made it difficult for the duchy to retaliate in kind.

Moreover, Kalleid’s wealth came from its vast, fertile plains and the grain it produced. With outside sales blocked, not only was Kalleid in trouble, but so were the smaller vassal territories reliant on its supplies.

“We have to get through winter, and there simply isn’t enough grain!”

“Can’t we transport it ourselves?”

“What, do you expect transportation routes to magically appear?”

The vassals’ loyalty was not an infinite well, and discontent, already building for some time, now flared like kindling.

“How long does he intend to let this go on?”

“Something has to be done to fix this!”

Though Lucian hadn’t disclosed the full reason behind Schmaikel’s drastic actions, the household knew well enough.

“…It’s because of Lady Lepherian, isn’t it?”

Everyone had witnessed the tension between Benedict and Lucian when Elze was first brought to the Kalleid estate.

“No matter how important she is, Lady Lepherian can’t be more important than the people of this land.”

“Exactly. While things are difficult in the heart of the duchy, the further out you go, the worse it gets.”

“Without general stores or supply shops, people can’t even meet their basic needs.”

Lucian had done everything to keep Elze by his side, but now that Benedict was leveraging the lives of the territory’s citizens, he found himself backed into a corner. If this dragged on, Kalleid might eventually prevail, but the sacrifices would be immense.

The livelihood of his people.

A single choice on his part would mean countless people struggling to survive through winter, deprived of basic necessities.

And so, at last, Lucian went to find Elze.

“My lady.”

“…”

Elze looked at him with an expression as cold as ice. Her honey-gold eyes, once warm, were now as frigid as winter.

Grinding his teeth, Lucian forced himself to continue.

“For the time being, Count Luneburg will be responsible for your protection.”

“Protection?”

Elze repeated, her tone dripping with disbelief.

“Don’t worry too much; the Count has agreed to ensure Marquess Offenheir cannot approach you,” he continued, speaking quickly, almost as if he were a child trying to justify himself.

“He’s agreed to keep me informed of your whereabouts at all times, so…”

“These days, it seems that keeping someone nearly imprisoned in a house qualifies as protection,” Elze replied coldly.

Lucian’s mouth snapped shut, speechless.

“It’s my life, and yet my opinions aren’t considered at all, are they?”

“My lady, that’s…”

“In fact, it’s been this way from the start.”

Elze said, her voice thick with sarcasm.

“You haven’t even kept your promise to find me a home in the capital.”

She let out a bitter laugh.

“I honestly can’t tell the difference between the Marquess, the Duke, and the Count. What’s the distinction?”

A spark of anger flashed in Lucian’s eyes.

“Watch your words. Comparing me to the Marquess is…!”

But Elze didn’t flinch.

“What’s so incomparable about it?” she countered, her voice steady. “Everything you do is supposedly ‘for my sake.’ All of this, you claim, is to protect me.”

A dark chuckle escaped her.

“Well, the Marquess said he was protecting me too… only he did so by taking away my freedom.”

“My lady!”

“I didn’t want to bring this up, but I never once asked you or the Count to save me,” she replied coolly.

Lucian’s face twisted in shock. He had never seen her draw such a stark line between them before.

“I’m sick of all three of you,” she said, standing.

“Not that I have the right to refuse, do I? Let me know when it’s time for me to leave.” Her amber eyes cast him a fleeting glance. “After all, what does a doll whose master keeps changing have left to say, right?”

With that biting remark, Elze stormed out of the room, the door slamming shut behind her.

Lucian stood, staring at the closed door in stunned silence.

* * *

Liam looked down at Dante with a worried expression. Dante lay there, dead to the world, fast asleep.

It had barely been a month since the imperial ball, but Dante looked even more haggard now, his face gaunt, dark circles casting shadows under his eyes.

“Is this really necessary?”

Liam muttered, almost a sigh.

It was Dante’s fifth dose of Nyx, administered nearly every week. The physician, seeing the deterioration in Dante’s condition, cautiously advised him.

“The rest period between doses should be at least three weeks…”

But Dante had refused, resolute.

“No. Just leave it.”

The determination in his gaze silenced any further objections, even from Liam.

“Damn it. Once he wakes up this time, he’ll have to rest for at least two weeks.”

Liam murmured, gripping the antidote vial tightly, watching over Dante with a tense expression. The physician’s strict instructions echoed in his mind.

[If there’s any sign of respiratory distress, seizures, or other severe symptoms, administer the antidote immediately.]

Just then, Dante’s breathing turned ragged and erratic. He clawed at his chest, thrashing violently, a clear sign of the seizures the physician had warned about.

Panic-stricken, Liam twisted open the antidote vial.

“Marquess? Marquess!”

He called, his hands shaking as he prepared the syringe. Suddenly, Dante’s eyes flew open.

“Are… are you all right?”

Liam stammered, clutching the syringe and antidote in each hand, uncertain what to do as Dante sat up abruptly, drenched in cold sweat. Breathing heavily, Dante clutched his forehead.

“…So that’s how it is?”

He muttered, a hollow laugh escaping his lips. “Ha… ha, haha…!”

“Marquess?”

Liam’s worry grew, fearing that Dante had finally lost his mind from Nyx’s side effects.

But moments later, Dante looked up, his expression sharp.

“Where is she?”

“Pardon?”

“Elze. Where is she right now?”

“Oh, she’s currently traveling toward the Fontaine region.”

Liam replied immediately. Elze’s whereabouts were always Dante’s priority.

“Fontaine?”

Dante’s brow furrowed.

“Isn’t that Benedict’s private estate?”

“Yes, that’s correct. It seems the Duke of Kalleid has finally yielded.”

Liam added, bitterness lacing his tone.

“You were unconscious from the Nyx dose when he made that decision.”

Dante paid no mind to Liam’s resentment, his expression one of sheer disdain.

“Those fools… they never cease to amaze me.”

Dante had followed the recent dispute between Kalleid and Luneburg closely. He knew Benedict had leveraged the Schmaikel Guild to pressure Kalleid, demanding custody of Elze as his condition.

“They’re both acting like lunatics,” Dante muttered.

“He used to be somewhat intelligent…”

The thought had crossed Dante’s mind as well—he could use Offenheir’s influence to pressure Lucian into releasing Elze. But he’d refrained.

After all, if he ever pushed Elze too far, she might never want to see him again.

A bitter smile crept onto his lips.