A beast that’s lost its strength.
There was no better way to describe the Marquis of Derk than this.
A loyal servant of the former Crown Prince, Lloyd de Philion, and the backbone of the Crown Prince’s faction. He was a man of considerable influence among the central nobility, trusted by the Crown Prince for his temper, boldness, and wisdom.
That is, until the crown prince passed away in vain due to a terrible incident that occurred 20 years ago.
“Ugh…”
The room reeked of alcohol since midday. The tightly drawn curtains made the room as dark as night, and empty bottles rolled across the floor at his feet.
In the center of the room, a middle-aged man sat slumped on a couch, gulping down glass after glass of strong wine.
A scruffy beard had grown on his thick jawline, and his eyes, once glittering with determination, were dull. Before long, his glass was empty, and he groped around drunkenly for a fresh bottle, picked it up, and was gulping it down with his mouth pressed to the bottle’s neck.
“Marquis!”
The door burst open and a man with neatly combed hair burst in.
“Have you been drinking in broad daylight again?”
The man rubbed his temples as he surveyed the room, which was littered with bottles. He leaned in closer.
“How much did you drink on your own? You’re only hurting yourself more.”
He was the butler who’d been working for the Marquis of Derk for a long time. He’d never been a man of many words, but ever since his master had become a drunkard, he’d began increasingly nagging.
The Marquis of Derk had grown accustomed to the butler’s rants. He buried himself deeper into the couch and raised the bottle to his mouth again, but the butler’s hand stopped him.
“That’s enough. Where did you get this wine from? It’s not your usual…”
The butler’s words trailed off as he snatched the wine bottle away and checked the label on the bottle, and then his face contorted as he identified it.
“This…! Isn’t this the 673-year-old wine that’s to be presented to His Majesty? What’ll happen if you drink this!”
Boasting a mild climate and fertile lands that produced bountiful harvests every year, the Marquisate of Derk was home to numerous vineyards known for producing wines of the highest quality.
Each year, a rare wine was presented to the king, and this liquor, which had disappeared into the Marquis’s stomach a little while ago, was to be this year’s gift.
“What are you going to do? This is the only reason the king is still looking out for us, and what will we do now that it’s no longer there?”
The butler held his forehead as if he was feeling sick. The Marquis only snorted and flicked his ear.
“What’s the matter? It was already annoying enough having to bring it to him every time, so this works out well. What else is there to catch his eye now? If he wants me to slit my own throat, so be it!”
The butler cried out, scared.
“Don’t make a fool of yourself!”
After Prince Lloyd’s death, his master withdrew from politics entirely.
Chelsea de Philion, who ascended the throne in place of the crown prince, suppressed the central figures of the crown prince’s faction, but there was also no longer any reason for them to remain in politics.
The Marquis dreamed, more than anyone else, of the future, of the kingdom that the Crown Prince would build, and he couldn’t imagine anyone else sitting on the throne.
Chelsea was not an incompetent king, but he was partial and cruel. He also didn’t care for the poor or weak.
“If His Highness were still alive… He would’ve become a much better ruler.”
The Marquis stared off into space and muttered to himself, causing the butler’s expression to turn sour. He ignored the stare and reached for a new bottle. Then…
A knock sounded on the door.
“Marquis, you have a visitor.”
The maid, who entered a moment later, bowed politely.
“A guest?”
“Well, he didn’t give his exact name, but he seemed to be of quite high rank. He said he wanted to meet the Marquis as discreetly as possible.”
He must have some business to discuss in secret, but…
The butler looked at the Marquis’s condition.
“Since he’s drunk now, would it be better to tell him to visit another time?”
“No, there’s no need for that. He’s going to be just as drunk later anyway, so what’s the point?”
The maid bowed her head and left, returning a little while later with the guest.
The door opened and light from the hallway streamed into the dark room. The sound of footsteps was heard, and two people wearing hoods appeared behind the maid. One was a woman with long silver hair, and the other…
Hair blacker than the darkness permeating the room, tall with graceful sculpted features.
“…!”
The Marquis couldn’t hide his agitation the moment he saw the face of the man with his unique sharp and cool aura.
Even though he’d left the world of politics, the Marquis had seen that face before. Whenever he attended a national event, that man was always the focus of people’s attention. Even if he’d never seen it before, he’d still be able to recognize it.
“Duke Killiard…?”
The Marquis muttered, looking into the man’s purple eyes. Ash spoke softly.
“Marquis Derk, this is the first time we’ve ever greeted each other.”
Asher de Philion.
A man who shared the blood of the crown prince he’d served, but who resembled that terrible witch.
The Duke was a difficult existence for him.
The Marquis could never forgive the witch, so it was difficult for him to look at the Duke who resembled that witch.
Even though he knew he’d done nothing wrong, and that he was the son of Prince Lloyd as well, he couldn’t reach out to him when the world pointed fingers at him. A sense of guilt lurked in the back of his mind.
But why would the Duke…
There was a moment of confusion at this unexpected turn of events, but the Marquis soon regained his composure and asked in a calm tone.
“What brings you here, Duke…?”
The Marquis averted his gaze. Ash stared at him, then slowly scanned the room.
The foul odor of alcohol that’d been present from the moment he stepped in, the dimness of the room as if the light had been blocked out, the stacks of bottles piled high.
Finally, his gaze shifted back to the Marquis. He spoke in a low voice.
“Rumor has it that the once great Marquis of Derk’s household is rusting away like a sword that’s lost its master.”
The Marquis’ eyebrows twitched slightly and he continued averting his eyes.
“What do you mean?”
“Why waste your life for someone who will never return? What difference will that make?”
Ash recalled a popular rumor.
A man who tied his hands and feet after losing the crown prince whom he was loyal to. It was a rumor that had spread like wildfire among the older nobles.
“How I live is none of your business, Duke, and if your reason for asking to see me is to give me an endless lecture, please go back.”
Now the Marquis no longer hid his displeasure. Ash spoke, looking at the Marquis, whose eyes were now slightly creased.
“I apologize if I offended you. But it doesn’t change the fact that wallowing your time away in useless anger is meaningless.”
“What are you trying to say? The reason I live like this is because that witch killed His Highness Lloyd…!”
“What if my father’s death was not caused by the witch.”
Suddenly, a noticeably quiet voice spoke, cutting off the Marqis’s words.
“What if his death was the result of someone else’s conspiracy?”
“…What do you mean?”
The Marquis asked back, his expression hard as stone. His face looked like he couldn’t comprehend what he’d heard. However, as Ash’s expression remained calm, he sensed something was off and asked again.
“… What do you know? Don’t make up a lie that it wasn’t the witch who harmed His Highness Lloyd!”
“Does it look like I’m telling a lie?”
Ash stared straight into his eyes. The Marquis gritted his teeth. Ash lowered his gaze for a moment and then raised it again, speaking slowly and clearly.
“Marquis, I need your help.”
* * *
“Can we trust him?”
Elain spoke as they were leaving the Marquis’s mansion.
The warm summer sun shone down on the low hill, and a gentle breeze ruffled their hair. As she looked behind her, the large mansion perched on a high hill caught her eye.
After deciding to expose the king’s evil deeds, Ash discussed the details of his plan with Elaine and the two vice-captains.
Accusing the king would be tantamount to rebellion. To take on the king, they would first need to gather support.
They first considered the relationships between the houses and their circumstances to determine which ones might be willing to join them. Those who had no ties to the king, who would be outraged to hear the truth about Seveka, or who would be motivated to lend their power.
The first were the loyalists who followed Ash’s father, the former Crown Prince Lloyd.
With Chelsea de Philion’s ascension to the throne, the former Crown Prince’s faction naturally lost strength and scattered. Some adapted to the new situation and joined the king, while others turned to the aristocratic faction.
However, the majority who could not forget the former crown prince took a step back from politics and remained neutral. Among them, the Marquis of Derk was someone who was trusted by many as the backbone of the former crown prince’s faction. Through him, it would be easier to appease the nobles who sided with the former crown prince.
That was why Elaine and Ash had come to see the Marquis.
“He said he would help, so let’s trust him.”
He remembered the Marquis of Derk’s face, shaking in fury as he learned that Chelsia was responsible for Seveka’s tragedy and Lloyd’s death.
‘I will help, please let me help.’
His gaze was steadfast as he spoke.
The Marquis said he would do everything in his power to help dethrone Chelsea. He also asked that they entrust to him the task of contacting the nobles who were in the former crown prince’s faction.
The eyes that’d lost their shine held a new determination. At least if she only based her trust off that loyalty, they wouldn’t have to worry. Elaine nodded.
Well, he hasn’t forgotten Lloyd to this day, and he’s been living in seclusion…’
She doubted he’d betray them or spread rumors.
Even if that were the case, their plans wouldn’t change. Even if no one was on their side, they’d never back down from making things right.
‘If things become difficult… I can just wipe it all away.’
It really was her last resort. To reduce even the slightest possibility of such an outcome, she had to work hard.
Elaine looked at Ash as he was staring into the distance.
As far as the eyes could see, a vast vineyard stretched out before him. Vines clung to the side of the hill, each dangling with luscious fruit. The scent of grapes wafted on the breeze, and the scene was peaceful as the farmers toiled away.
“Where is our next destination?”
Ash asked as he took a step forward. Elaine walked alongside him, checking the list.
“The Earl of Stanley is closest to here.”
With their destination confirmed, they picked up the pace.
