Spoils of War Duchess

Chapter 12

‘Anyway, if I can bring the Marchioness of Celestine into this, it wouldn’t be a bad deal even if I later hand that woman over to her.’

To do so, he needed to find out how deep the bond between the two women was.

Laszlo instructed his servant to call Idel to the first-floor reception room. It seemed better than calling her to his office since, although the reception room wasn’t exactly open to everyone, it was still a public space.

* * *

“What? The Count is calling for me? Where to?”

“The first-floor reception room. You must follow me right now.”

“Oh, I understand.”

Idel was surprised by the sudden summons from Laszlo, but she felt relieved hearing that the location was the reception room.

‘Since there are people around, nothing serious should happen. But why is he calling for me?’

Idel asked for Celia’s permission, wiped her hands on her apron, and followed the servant.

Laszlo was already seated in the reception room.

‘Every time I see that man, I feel overwhelmed for some reason.’

Idel had seen many knights during her time as the Count’s daughter and later as the Duchess, but Laszlo exuded an unrefined aura that she didn’t sense from the others.

It felt wild and dangerous, yet somehow impressively charismatic.

That’s what made him special.

“I’m Idel. I heard you called for me.”

“Come, have a seat.”

Laszlo was looking down at a letter, casually gesturing to the sofa opposite him with his chin.

However, he didn’t speak for a long time, even after Idel sat down, took off her headscarf, and neatly folded it in her hands.

He finally opened his mouth when he heard her swallow nervously.

“By any chance.”

Idel tensed up at the sudden start of the conversation.

“Do you know the Marchioness of Celestine, Barbara?”

“Pardon? Barbara, I mean, the Marchioness of Celestine?”

“Why? Are you not acquainted?”

Laszlo sensed from Idel’s reaction to hearing Barbara’s name that they were quite close.

However, Idel had no idea why she had been called and her lips felt dry. She couldn’t speak easily, knowing that her answer could cause trouble for Barbara.

‘It wouldn’t be good for Barbara if it’s known that she’s close to me. It won’t hurt to be cautious.’

Idel replied with an awkward smile.

“Ah, we do know each other, but it’s just that we’ve had tea together a few times…”

“That tea must have been quite something for you to still remember it.”

Idel’s heart sank once again.

‘This man knows everything.’

She barely managed to resist closing her eyes tightly.

Biting her lip nervously, Idel decided to be bold. After all, neither she nor Barbara had done anything wrong.

“Well, if she remembers me, I’d be grateful, but I don’t quite understand what you’re implying, Count.”

It was a polite and ambiguous response.

Laszlo stared at Idel for a while with an unreadable expression before handing her the letter he had been holding.

“Isn’t it intriguing that this stubborn old woman is pleading earnestly to a lowly mercenary? It’s natural to be curious about their relationship, isn’t it?”

“This is, a letter from the Marchioness of Celestine?”

Idel took the letter with trembling hands and began to read.

Although her interaction with Barbara only spanned about seven years, their friendship was deeper than many who had known each other for decades.

Their friendship, which started from a small favor Idel did for Barbara, was anything but trivial.

And once again, Barbara, her respected mentor and dear friend, moved Idel deeply.

“Ah…!”

‘Please, do not drive her into greater despair. I earnestly beg you.’ At this part, Idel closed her eyes tightly.

She tried to maintain her composure in front of Laszlo, but learning about her friend’s heartfelt worry and concern made it hard to breathe due to the overwhelming emotions.

‘I thought everyone had abandoned me…’

When she was the daughter of Count Canyon and the Duchess of Lancaster, many approached her as friends.

But when the House of Lancaster fell, Idel had expected her past friends to turn their backs on her.

It was natural. After all, she was accused of treason.

Even her own family had turned away, fearing their involvement might bring them down too. She didn’t hold a grudge against her former friends for pretending not to know her.

But Barbara’s letter made Idel realize her true feelings.

‘I’ve been longing for such a sentiment. I wanted to be comforted like this.’

Her status had changed to that of a commoner and a criminal. She was given as a war prize to a man she’d never spoken to, and now she worked as a maid in a grueling laundry room. Yet, this one letter made everything feel alright.

At least someone believed in her innocence and even asked for her to be treated well.

‘But what will Count Krisis think? Might he misunderstand and think Barbara was part of the Lancaster faction?’

As the intense wave of emotions receded, fear crept in.

Idel hesitated, choosing her words carefully, before finally speaking.

“The Marchioness of Celestine is a very compassionate person. Just as the House of Celestine has no connection with the House of Lancaster, my friendship with her is purely personal. I hope you won’t misunderstand the intent of this letter.”

At her plea, Laszlo’s eyebrows knitted slightly.

“Do you really think I’d trouble an old lady over something like this? Why do people seem to think I’m such a ruthless guy?”

“No, no, absolutely not! If my words have offended you, I apologize.”

“Look at you, trembling like I’m about to execute someone any minute.”

Then he paused.

“…This isn’t something I should say in front of you.”

He avoided Idel’s gaze, looking as if he didn’t know what expression to make. It was a look Idel had never seen from the usually sharp and intense Laszlo.

She wondered why, but then it dawned on her that Laszlo was the one who executed the people of the Lancaster household.

‘Could he be feeling guilty towards me? That’s unexpected.’

But there was no need for Idel to receive an apology.

“Count, you were only fulfilling the Emperor’s orders and achieving victory. The strange thing is that I am still alive, not that you find it difficult to speak.”

Laszlo’s expression changed again at her words.

‘Did that sound too cold-hearted?’

Idel felt a little pang of guilt, having never felt any affection for the people of the Lancaster household. She didn’t want to seem like she was rejoicing in their deaths.

After pondering for a moment, Laszlo nodded slightly and responded as if nothing had happened.

“That’s true. In any case, I’d like you to write a reply to the Marchioness yourself. She wouldn’t trust anything coming from me.”

“Me? Write the reply?”

Idel was surprised but also thrilled at the thought of writing to Barbara.

“What should I… write?”

“Whatever you want.”

Then, as if he had just remembered, Laszlo added.

“Just so you know, I have no intention of treating you as ‘society expects.'”

At that moment, Idel felt a huge wave of relief. She quickly tried to hide it, but Laszlo seemed to have noticed.

Feeling a bit embarrassed, she awkwardly changed the subject.

“Sorry, but I don’t have any stationery or pens. Could you lend me some?”

“Don’t worry about that.”

“Thank you. By when should I have the reply ready?”

“Whenever you’re comfortable.”

Laszlo’s tone was almost dismissive, but he didn’t seem angry.

As Idel fiddled with Barbara’s letter, she shyly expressed her gratitude.

“Really… thank you.”

She was sincerely grateful to Laszlo. For not misinterpreting Barbara’s letter, for showing it to her, and for allowing her to write back to Barbara.

Thanks to Laszlo and Barbara, Idel felt a renewed will to live today.

* * *

‘I feel oddly deflated.’

Back in his room, Laszlo threw off his jacket and sat down in a chair.

He had called Idel to gauge her reaction to Barbara’s letter, needing to understand if the Marchioness of Celestine was anti-Emperor.

But Idel had shown no signs of hiding anything; she was simply surprised, moved, and struggling to contain her sorrow.

‘She’s like a wounded bird.’

Her trembling lips and efforts to hold back tears made her seem like a small bird with a badly broken wing, unable to even flutter.

And Laszlo was not so cold-hearted as to torment a dying bird.