Chapter 59
“Suddenly the Burnt District?”
Rapnel stopped combing her hair. Pale morning sunlight, the color of her hair, was streaming in through the window.
Seated in the tranquil setting, Raphnel blinked her eyes like a doll.
“Burnt…”
It was a new piece of information that Belle had conveyed after a long time.
Debert, who had been acting as if he would do something, had spent the past month in a boringly repetitive routine. He would leave for the company at the crack of dawn and return to the manor long after dusk had fallen.
Whatever he did in the manor, he shut himself away, refusing to see anyone, only to reappear in the morning as the unperturbed Duke.
Even the perceptive Raphnel couldn’t think of a plausible reason for Debert to suddenly return to his estate.
A faint worry appeared on her slightly pouty face.
“He said he was going to take a short break.”
“A break?”
Debert and the word “break”—was there ever a more mismatched combination?
But if it wasn’t a break, then for what reason?
“He mentioned inviting his friends to Burnt. Even if it’s late, they intend to reminisce about the end of the war.”
Well, Debert had been holed up in the mansion ever since the greenhouse garden party.
“Prince Arthur also mentioned that he would be heading to Burnt this afternoon.”
“Arthur as well?”
Raphnel’s raised brows, tinged with discomfort, settled back down.
Knowing that Arthur was going too put her mind at ease.
He wouldn’t divulge every detail of Debert’s movements as she wished, but it was better than having no information at all.
“Perhaps he’s planning a late-night drinking spree.”
Raphnel’s lips curled in a sardonic smile.
Debert rarely allowed visitors into the Cliff manor in Wayne, but he often summoned people to his estate.
Sometimes it seemed as if he treated the Burnt District like another’s home, but seeing how well the estate was managed even in his absence, that wasn’t the case.
The Burnt District was the second largest region after Wayne, serving as the empire’s breadbasket and industrial hub.
And a secret that people hushed up.
It was also where the most notorious drug dealers congregated.
“I should hurry with my preparations. I must see his face before he leaves.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
At Belle’s clap of her fingers, the maids waiting outside quickly entered the room.
“Dress neatly and properly.”
The maids were more confused than ever due to the Princess’s changing tastes. The Princess, who once sought only the most eye-catching and lavish clothes and accessories, now favoured the austere.
Even then, her habit of physically lashing out if something displeased her was far from austere.
“Cliff Street. Oh, I’m going to take the car today.”
Rapnel, who had left the golden carriage in front of the palace, climbed into a black car.
The maids discreetly clicked their tongues, thinking that at least the outward appearance was impeccable, despite their mistress’s quirks.
Raphnel was the most coveted prospective bride in the empire, by anyone’s standards.
* * *
The servants diligently loaded the hunting rifle into the duke’s car.
“Are you going hunting for wolves again?”
The butler asked worriedly, and Debert responded with a light laugh.
“They say the wolves of Nexus are becoming more and more vicious.”
“Shall we go for people instead?”
Debert spoke as if joking.
“You haven’t done that in a while…”
“Back then, I was catching enemies, not wolves.”
The elderly butler fell silent.
The young Duke’s face seemed indifferent to whatever the butler had said.
“But going to the Burnt District in the dead of winter for a hunt, an old man like me can’t help but worry.”
“I’m going to the Burnt District for Oliver, who worries that the Duke of Cliff will die alone.”
Debert replied as he checked that the barrels of the long-unused hunting rifles were not rusted. The rifle seemed to fit seamlessly into his hands, as if it were an extension of Debert himself.
“If anyone comes, send them to the Burnt District. I’ll meet them there.”
“Understood.”
The gathered servants, seeing their master off on his brief respite, stood in formation to bid him farewell.
“Oh dear!”
The driver cried out in alarm.
The car that stopped the long tree-lined road outside the main gate of the mansion was a royal car with the Nexus seal on it.
“Debert!”
And from the backseat, Raphnel, draped in a blindingly azure cape, descended.
Despite Debert’s impassive expression, Raphnel showed no sign of intimidation. Rather, she smiled warmly, tilting her head as if to lighten his mood.
“Forgive my sudden intrusion. I heard you were going to the Burnt District and came to see you off.”
“I see.”
“How long do you plan to stay in the Burnt District?”
“I haven’t decided yet.”
“Would you dislike it if I accompanied you?”
Debert silently observed Raphnel, who came up to his chest. The face that had once seemed so similar to Arthur’s now looked quite different.
Perhaps it was because of the different mother.
“For the sake of the Princess, I must insist you do not come.”
“For my sake…?”
“No Nexus nobleman would view it favourably if an unmarried Princess were to freely visit the estate of an unrelated man.”
Unrelated man. Freely visit. Other noblemen.
The man carefully selected words that would grate on Raphnel.
“But isn’t it common knowledge that the imperial house and the Cliff family are close?”
“It is merely a military-vassal relationship.”
Debert looked at the imperial car blocking his own. His brow furrowed, as if from the glaring sunlight, but his underlying emotions were revealed.
He was adept at concealing his feelings, but now he was deliberately letting them show, as if by mistake.
“Your sudden intrusion, barricading my manor, which is already plagued by unsavoury rumours, will also reflect poorly on the Princess’s reputation.”
Raphnel gently bit the inside of her crimson lips.
Debert stepped back with a subtle smile.
“You seem to prefer soaring high, not crawling on the ground…”
Trailing off, Debert extended his arm.
“Get in the car.”
He gave Raphnel no chance to refuse.
She steeled her upturned lips, gripping his arm. The stiff folds of his coat mirrored the man’s temperament.
He escorted Raphnel to the backseat, politely bowing, and remained there until the car had departed, determined to see it leave.
“Drive off.”
Raphnel glared at the arrogant Duke’s face in the rearview mirror. He stood there until his silhouette was no longer visible, having turned the corner.
“That arrogant Duke bastard.”
The pent-up breath burst from her full lips. The exhalation was hot, tinged with anger that refused to subside.
Debert only rolled his stiff neck slowly after the car had turned the corner and disappeared. The creaking of his bones with each movement spoke of his fatigue.
“How tedious.”
Once in the car, Debert kept his eyes closed until they reached the Burnt District.
Countless similar scenes played out in his mind, but they were just imaginations.
Imaginations he hoped would never come to pass.
“It’s an honour to see you again, Your Grace.”
The steward who had been overseeing the Burnt estate in Debert’s stead opened the rear door, but Debert still did not open his eyes.
“Congratulations on your victory.”
The Burnt District was not much different from Debert’s last memories of Wayne. This place stubbornly refused to change its true nature.
“As unchanged as ever.”
It was an ambiguous remark, whether a compliment or a rebuke.
The steward, unsure if he had done something wrong, was sweating despite the cold weather.
It was common in Nexus for a steward to manage the estate in the stead of an absentee lord due to frequent wars. While the role was typically filled by someone with legal proxy, it was sometimes entrusted to impoverished minor noble families as well. Debert had heard that even when his father was alive, the Burnt District was managed by a steward from a certain baronial house.
“I’ve organized the ledgers – the tax collection list, land usage details, budget management-”
“I’ve come to rest.”
Debert tersely cut off the steward’s words, tending to the hunting rifles first.
Steward Chaff racked his memory. What kind of man was the Duke Debert? Even in the hazy recollection, the piercing gaze that could effortlessly expose one’s weaknesses remained vivid.
But the Duke Debert he faced after several years was slightly different from what he remembered. Though he had grown more rugged and his shoulders broader, the sharp aura that once defined him had faded.
“There will be guests arriving in the evening, so prepare a meal and the guest rooms.”
Yes, he was behaving like a leisurely nobleman.
“Bring whatever can be consumed.”
Seizing the reins of the hunting horse that the coachman had brought, the Duke vanished behind the manor in an instant.
* * *
As if to prove the steward Chaff’s doubts, Debert began downing alcohol from the early evening, already senseless by the time the guests from Wayne arrived.
The only ones who enjoyed this state of Debert were the nobles in Wayne who had been struggling to extract something from him.
Among the many guests, Arthur was nowhere to be seen.
“Come on, let’s get good and drunk!”
“To the victory!”
“May Nexus be blessed with eternal glory!”
It was a drinking party that was incomparably more chaotic than the princess’s greenhouse garden. The sound of plates breaking and the men’s laughter resonated throughout the chaotic banquet hall.
“Debert! Hic, I heard this place is, hic, so much fun!”
“Me too! Me too, I heard it!”
The long-lost ones brazenly crossed the line with their questions.
Debert, sprawled on the table, slowly raised his head. A strange glint flickered in his cold eyes.
“Who said the Burnt District is that kind of place?”
Someone mumbled an explanation.
“Aw, Debert. Hic, you know it all already, but you’re asking.”
“Let us have some fun, will you?”
The slurred, drawling voice wheedled Debert unpleasantly.
Debert flung open the windows of the banquet hall. The fierce wind swept away the remaining alcohol fumes.
As he leisurely brushed back the hair fluttering in the wind, his composed brow was revealed.
“You want to go to the red-light district, is that it?”
The fangs peeked out from his upturned lips.
“Yes! Please take us there!”
“The lord of the Burnt District must make an appearance!”
Debert gestured to the attendant beside him.
“Bring new clothes.”
But Debert’s drunken guests were unable to discern whether he was changing into or removing the new clothes.
“As the host of the party, I must oblige the guests’ request.”
(T/L: Man what is happening.)
