“Go ahead and call him. I think I need to see him myself.”
An elderly butler entered the half-open office door, his eyes widening in surprise.
“Do you require a physician, Your Grace?”
Drushia clicked his tongue discreetly, wondering how long his office door had been ajar. He truly questioned his own state of mind.
“I just haven’t been sleeping well.”
“Has your insomnia returned?”
“It’s not like it’s a recent development. Why do you ask?”
Drushia brushed aside the butler’s concern. Despite his worried expression, the butler didn’t pry further.
“Someone from the Capital Security Force came. They’ve taken the knights from Duke Igraine’s estate.”
“Ha, on whose authority? Are they really trying to start something?”
“Shall I have our knights brought back?”
“What about the official notice from the Igraine estate?”
“…There wasn’t one. They didn’t leave a message, they just took them.”
The butler replied cautiously.
Drushia, who had habitually raised his hand to his neck, paused. Seeing the black ink stain on his hand, his face crumpled in disgust.
“Did the Security Force Chief release them on his own accord?”
“If Duke Igraine applies pressure, the Security Force Chief has little choice. It’s just a minor quarrel after all.”
Even a minor quarrel between Igraine and Talion was never trivial. The butler observed Drushia’s weary face.
“What shall we do?”
“Yes, what should we do? The newly appointed Knight Commander gets himself locked up in the Capital Security Force headquarters right after arriving in the capital?”
Even Kalf, his aide, who usually responded without hesitation, closed his mouth at Drushia’s sharp glare.
Aegonite Delfino, Baron Delfino. The First Knight Commander of Duke Talion, he had served under his grandfather, Neoren, before being transferred to the capital. It hadn’t even been a week since his arrival, and he’d already caused a major incident.
The butler tried to soothe Drushia’s anger with a wry smile.
“Perhaps he needed time to adjust.”
“That’s why I haven’t sent him to the Grand Duchy garrison. To avoid any clashes with the Igraine knights. Knowing that, he shouldn’t be causing trouble in the capital.”
Among Talion’s vassals, the most hostile towards Igraine was undoubtedly Baron Aegonite Delfino. He had lost his parents and siblings in ‘that incident’ fourteen years ago. But they weren’t the only ones who died in that incident.
“He’s not a child who doesn’t know right from wrong. He shouldn’t be acting like this, especially not in front of me.”
“I’ll go and bring him back.”
The elderly butler stepped forward. With his experience, he likely hoped to appease the situation.
“No, I’ll bring him back. I want to see how much he’s reflected overnight.”
Drushia tossed the crumpled handkerchief onto his desk and left the office. His aide, Kalf, followed, while the butler stopped a passing servant to request a wet towel.
“Your Grace, perhaps we should stop by the dressing room.”
Drushia had remained at the mansion all day. his overly casual attire had caught the butler’s eye.
“No. Just bring me a coat.”
Despite his age, the butler kept pace with Drushia without difficulty. He persistently attended to every detail, even for tasks that could have been handled more casually.
“Shall I have the family carriage prepared?”
“I need to handle this discreetly. I don’t want rumors spreading about the Duke visiting the Capital Security Force.”
Though everyone who mattered would likely know anyway.
As Drushia reached the bottom of the stairs, a servant, slightly out of breath, hurried over and handed him a wet towel. After wiping the ink from his hand and hastily donning a coat, Drushia left the mansion.
****
The carriage he boarded was a plain mahogany color, without the ducal crest.
The Capital Security Force headquarters was located on Palmred Street, a primarily commoner district. After leaving the mansion and traveling for about an hour, the carriage slowed as they neared the city center.
“What’s going on?”
Drushia opened the carriage window and looked outside.
“There seems to be a performance at the Opera House today. The streets are narrow here, making it difficult for carriages to pass on such days.”
As the coachman said, the streets were congested with people and carriages. People poured out of the Opera House, mixing with waiting carriages and couples arm in arm, dodging their way through the crowd.
The large open space in front of the Opera House was teeming with people.
“The Opera House is quite large.”
“It’s primarily frequented by the wealthy middle class, so it’s quite substantial.”
Kalf added a simple explanation.
As the sun began to set, lamplighters moved through the streets, lighting the gas lamps. The air was filled with the warmth of the crowd and a gentle breeze.
Drushia’s gaze, scanning the street, stopped at a particular point.
Even in the dimming light, the woman with jet-black hair stood out. She accepted a cape from someone and hurried off.
‘Could it be?’
The woman headed towards the line of carriages. Moments later, Drushia caught a glimpse of the woman’s face as she looked around and chuckled softly.
‘Of course. That woman wouldn’t be in a place like this.’
No matter how good the facilities, nobles rarely visited this area. his heart, which had inexplicably quickened, settled back into its usual rhythm.
Yet, Drushia couldn’t tear his gaze away. The woman quickened her pace and stopped in front of an ordinary carriage. As the door opened, a hand reached out to help her inside, and Drushia’s eyes widened.
“Lord Coral Oclein?”
The woman didn’t immediately enter the carriage. A brief exchange, almost a struggle, took place. The platinum-haired man in formal attire and the raven-haired woman. The combination made it easy to recognize him.
“Ha. Lord Oclein has a mistress?”
Kalf’s gaze followed Drushia’s and landed on the couple.
“There have been rumors, but nothing confirmed.”
Drushia’s face hardened. A belated realization dawned on him.
“Doesn’t that woman resemble someone?”
“Indeed, she does.”
Even Kalf had been momentarily fooled. Of course, the woman was much more voluptuous than the woman he remembered.
The combination of black hair and black eyes was uncommon in the Empire. Ashika Igraine’s appearance had sparked considerable rumors when she was born, along with suspicions about her true parentage.
“This is rather unsettling.”
A man keeping a mistress who strikingly resembled his fiancée, right before their wedding. Kalf’s words darkened Drushia’s expression further.
The woman, after resisting at the carriage door, finally allowed Coral to lead her inside.
Seized by a sudden thought, Drushia rapped on the roof of his carriage to stop it.
“Do you have any blank documents with you?”
Kalf blinked, confused, and Drushia held out his hand.
“You go to the Security Force headquarters.”
“Me? Ah, yes.”
Kalf pulled a blank document from his bag and handed it to him.
Official documents for high-ranking nobles used special paper with a hidden watermark to prevent forgery.
Drushia stamped the document with his ring, quickly completing the authorization.
“Where are you going, Your Grace?”
“I have somewhere to be. There are plenty of waiting carriages, take any one of them.”
Kalf was practically pushed out of the carriage. Left alone, Drushia pointed to the departing carriage.
“Follow that carriage. Let’s see where it goes.”
The coachman nodded and set the carriage in motion again.
The carriage left the bustling streets and entered a residential area. Large and small mansions lined the streets, a high-class neighborhood inhabited by the upper middle class and above.
“Slow down.”
Seeing the carriage ahead stop, Drushia instructed his coachman. He opened the window slightly, shielding himself with the curtain as he observed.
The black-haired woman emerged from the carriage, practically clinging to Coral. Whatever had transpired inside, her clothes were disheveled.
“Hmph. Unbelievable.”
Drushia scoffed as he watched them enter the mansion.
It was clearly not a one-time occurrence, judging by the casual manner of the servant who greeted them and the couple’s intimate behavior.
As the carriage slowly passed the mansion, the two figures disappeared from view.
Drushia sat up straight in the swaying carriage, lost in thought. A furrow creased his smooth forehead, and his bright blue eyes narrowed.
“Their wedding is in two months.”
Is that woman going to go through with the marriage even though she knows this fact?
“Impossible. There’s no way.”
The Ashika Igraine he knew was a woman of unwavering character. She wouldn’t tolerate a fiancé with a mistress, not right before their wedding.
“What to do…”
Drushia’s mind raced as the carriage moved.
He wasn’t keen on simply tarnishing Ashika’s reputation with this scandal. It would be better to use it to his advantage.
There were countless issues entangling Igraine and Talion. Managing the unclaimed Grand Duchy together for forty years had led to constant friction between their respective garrisons.
“They were planning to construct new buildings at the garrison, weren’t they? There will be another dispute over the costs.”
A meeting with Igraine to discuss the budget was imminent. If used correctly, this information could help him gain leverage in the negotiations.
After some deliberation, a smile crept onto Drushia’s lips. A sense of amusement filled him, bringing a chuckle to his throat.
“This marriage… I might just be able to break it.”
He didn’t know how beneficial it would be for Talion, but it didn’t seem to matter.
TN:
Changed Ashika’s title from “minor duchess” to “Young Duchess”
It was my mistake.
I’ve also corrected the previous chapters.
