“So what do you want to do?”
Raymon was silent for a moment, slightly taken aback by the question.
“You’re asking me what I want to do?”
Duke Castraine nodded, leisurely breathing out a puff of cigar smoke.
Orto Cassian El Castraine.
The Demon Slayer.
The strongest man on the continent.
Head of House Castraine.
The man behind all those titles was a man with the air of an old, graying tiger. His once-black hair was gray as ash, and a prominent scar ran vertically across his left eye.
“You’ve been to the mines yourself to verify that <Gloriana’s Insignia> really is there before you even reported this to me.”
Probably because he had been flustered. But this was crucial information and, after reporting to the Duke, he could not afford for it to turn out to be a lie. This was too important to be handled as an afterthought, after all. Even more so when that information came from the mouth of a princess who had the reputation of being an unruly fool.
“Why, do you think I’d be angry if your fiancée lied to me? Do you think I’d be offended? No, no one would be offended by a puppet played by grown men’s strings.”
Raymon’s eyebrows drew together at that.
“…Well, if I’ve judged this poorly.”
“Do you feel guilty? Do you think that the woman you turned away from was afraid that she was becoming worthless, and that your misplaced pity would become a chain around your ankles? Was it something like that?”
Raymon paused for a very long moment.
“…I don’t feel guilty; it was the right choice for our House.”
“Count Bradley is the Emperor’s dog, and no matter how abandoned or disused a mine may be, you’d be remiss to touch it, let alone take from it.”
“I apologize for my rashness.”
Duke Castraine watched his eldest son with a strange look in his eyes.
Duke Castraine did not consider himself a good man, to say the least.
If he could save a hundred by sacrificing one, he would give up one.
If he could save ten thousand by sacrificing a hundred, he would discard a hundred.
On the battlefield, he had to eliminate enemies and protect allies with minimal sacrifice. Such as taking the life of a grievously wounded ally with his own hands.
That was not the kind of life he wanted to pass down to his children. But the reality was all too harsh. And Raymon was the son who bore the burden of that reality more heavily than anyone else. As a result, he found it difficult to turn his focus away from him.
Even though he had a fiancée who had been engaged to him practically from the womb, the young ladies of the noble families who knew the truth of his situation continued to approach and try to seduce him. But Raymon had always remained unfazed.
‘…Although I did think that the eldest daughter of Count Orland was particularly promising, and that there might have been a chance for a good match.’
But at the ball, after his first dance with the beautiful, spunky, and clever young lady, Raymon’s demeanor had remained quite stony indeed. At the time, he had thought that his son was just not interested in women, or that he simply disliked the idea of dating other women while being someone’s fiancé.
But his actions now were making him realize that…
“Yeah, it’s not easy to change people, especially if they’re caged birds. But…”
The duke thought of Lysianthus, his second son, who had been blabbering about whether the princess’s information on <Gloriana’s Insignia> location was real or not, and Vivi, whose eyes had widened in disbelief. Everyone who had heard the details of Raymon’s dealings with Titania had the same reaction.
‘Is she crazy, believing that she actually came back from the dead?’
‘Could the princess be pulling some sort of trick?’
‘If the princess really had information about <Gloriana’s Insignia>, would she hand it over to us so easily?’
‘Since she’s so in love with you, it could be that she’s trying to manipulate you in some other way. Or maybe it’s just a trick of the Emperor?’
What she asked for was pretty much trivial, given how much they truly needed <Gloriana’s Insignia>.
The deal was going to be paid for.
However.
“No wonder Princess Titania looked so different in your eyes.”
“…”
Raymon was growing restless.
Perhaps if Duke Castraine told him to ignore it, that all of this was a shallow ruse, that there must be someone pulling the strings behind the Princess, he’d… listen, and he’d get rid of his restlessness, of his feelings, and forget about it.
But…
“…I’ll give you a chance.”
Raymon’s clear golden eyes radiated with unbridled relief. Seeing that, Duke Castraine closed his eyes.
‘I love you, but this is our duty.’ Was what his wife had told him before she died.
It had always been a struggle to support the empire in place of an incompetent and irresponsible Imperial Family. He had to give up what he most desired. So the duke wanted Raymon to choose someone to help him in the future, someone as safe as possible. A choice that all, including his own family, would bless… Someone he wouldn’t have to give up anything for.
The Imperial Family’s daughter, their enemy, was one of the worst choices he could make.
And there was no way Raymon didn’t know that.
‘…And yet you look so relieved.’
The Castraine family forgets neither favors nor grudges. But what could be done about the residual regret that would linger in one’s heart?
The Duke decided to wait and see.
* * *
Queen Cleo was a quick thinker.
So quick, in fact, that she sent a priest the very next day, after she left me alone in my cold room and returned to her palace. It was a welcome relief to be able to live in a healthy, comfortable body rather than languishing in a crippled body on a hot summer day, but it wasn’t…
“Hey, I heard you died and came back to life?”
“…”
…It was a problem because it wasn’t just Queen Cleo who was quick on her feet.
I glanced around the drawing room, which was now a bright, beautiful, and graceful place that belied the fact that I’d just smashed it to pieces. The maids had become outwardly polite to me, after I’d been disruptive twice in a row, and after Queen Cleo had come and gone. Except for Natalie, the head maid, who acted exactly the same as before.
In other words, they restored the drawing room to its former glory with no complaints whatsoever. Beautiful flowers in colorful glass vases (no roses, probably because they were so shocked after I’d smashed them last time), a beautiful lace tablecloth.
A tray of raisin scones and donuts with a generous helping of chocolate, as if to say, have a sweet treat and stay calm. A gentle breeze streaming in through the open windows…
What a beautiful day. Oh, yeah. If only I didn’t have to entertain the bomb in front of me, or rather, the red piece of trash.
I casually turned my attention to the window. Oh, look, there were two cute little birds just outside the window. The fluttering birds, male and female, were so cute together. I felt lonely, just looking at them…
“Hey, can’t you hear me? Did this death thing block your ears?”
I wish I could go back with…
“Well, if you have eyes, you can see this.”
A lively aura of fire coalesced from the sword and rose into a pillar. I screamed in fright.
“…Hey, you crazy bastard, are you out of your mind?! Are you playing with fire indoors?!”
“Oh, now you are looking at me.”
He grinned, showing his teeth as he extinguished the flame he had created in the first place.
Hair as red as the flames themselves, and eyes the same color. A fair skin color that is rarely seen among the pale-skinned northerners. Even though he was visiting the Imperial Palace, he wore no formal attire, just a short-sleeved shirt, and pants covered in dirt and grime, which gave away his personality.
Nicknamed the Mad Dog of House Castraine.
That’s right, the man in front of me?
He was the second son of House Castraine, the one who had always looked down on me as an unworthy fool who deserved to be ripped to shreds.
Lysianthus Agni El Castraine.
Well, I at least understood his hatred toward me.
He was a less reliable son when compared to his calm and responsible eldest brother. He had a fiery temper, and he didn’t care for others. The youngest son, Rasper, was more of a scholarly type, and wouldn’t be enough to keep his brother in line (Rasper was rarely allowed in the capital due to his youth, anyway).
The Duke rarely interfered with his three sons in the first place.
Raymon couldn’t care less if Titania cried or got angry or broke a teacup in front of him, she was probably too insignificant a person to be angry with such shallow things. But his brother, who respected and cherished him, didn’t like Titania’s short temper. So, whenever they met, he would take it out on her. For example.
‘How dare you claim to be the next mistress of the Castraine family?’
It was this kind of verbal abuse that broke Titania’s spirit…
‘Really, I’d rather have you play one of those dummies they keep on the training grounds, at least they don’t talk.’
Everyone’s minds were racing, with words that they didn’t dare to say to the high-ranking princess in person, but he couldn’t care less…
‘Your Majesty, your Majesty, that insolent thing dared to question my worthiness! I am the proud daughter of your Majesty and the future mistress of House Castraine, why can’t you punish that damn fool!’
…And it was of no surprise that the Titania of the past, who had been insulted like that, would cling to the Emperor and whine.
