Chapter 56
The sunlight pouring in through the curtains reached the head of Debert, who lay on the bed like a corpse.
Debert, his eyes closed as if dead, remained motionless. His mind had been present for some time, but he did not open his eyes.
What was the purpose of it all?
The war was over, and the gunfire of the battlefield had ceased. There were no more screams or shouts. This deafening silence was the proof that he was useless to the world.
Silence had always been dreadful. Until he met that woman.
“Your Grace, it’s Oliver.”
“Come in.”
Debert raised his hand to shield his face from the morning sunlight.
Soon, the sound of the doorknob turning and the familiar footsteps followed.
“What brings the Prince here?”
Debert did not remove the hand covering his eyes.
“A ghost.”
Arthur plopped down on the sofa in the bedroom, his expression listless. His sprawled legs and a few undone buttons on his shirt made him look even more languid.
“I was worried when you left the manor so solemnly last night.”
The concern in his voice seemed genuine as Arthur rubbed his bloodshot eyes.
“Do you know why I became your friend?”
Arthur blankly gazed out the large window. Apart from the imperial palace, the most beautiful garden of the Cliff estate was visible.
The skilled butler had always kept the manor beautiful, despite his master’s indifference. Unaware that the manor’s scenery, in contrast to the reclusive owner, made Debert appear even more desolate.
“You had a certain quirkiness about you.”
Arthur’s eyes, though focused on the garden, were reminiscing about the time when they were both fifteen.
“You always did the unexpected. Even though it was clear you were terrified in your first battle, you still charged forward. And every time we went hunting, you would ransack the mountains, intent on killing everything, yet you would always end up saving the cubs.”
As he leaned his head back on the sofa, the sleep he had missed poured out. This chilly place was more comfortable than his own quarters in the imperial palace. But did he still consider Debert his friend?
Arthur couldn’t help but scoff at himself.
“I thought those traits of yours would fade as you became the infamous Commander Cliff. But it was just my dull assumption.”
Debert lay silently, listening to it all as if asleep.
“You’re still the same. I can’t tell what’s going on in that head of yours.”
“Arthur Wayner.”
The voice was ominous.
“Get to the point.”
“What do you mean by resigning?”
Debert slowly sat up. There was a hint of sensitivity, but his face remained composed.
As he removed his rumpled shirt, the scars from the war with Kovach were fully exposed under the sunlight, making his torso a mess.
“I’m bored, so I’m quitting.”
“Hoyden suspects you.”
“What can a mere Duke without an army do?”
“You know that’s not what I mean.”
Debert picked up the whiskey bottle on the bedside table as he put on a fresh shirt. The clear sound of the liquid pouring into the glass made Arthur turn around.
“Just obediently accept the leash they put on you.”
Debert had no ambition to possess Nexus like his father. He resembled the ruthless Cassius, but he did not share the same desires.
However, the Emperor did not believe that.
Unless Debert himself died, the Emperor’s suspicion would never end. This sudden resignation as the military commander was not the root cause.
“Could it be… because Beth disappeared?”
“Beth…”
Debert’s lips curved.
The gaze fixed on the half-empty glass deepened.
“Were you that close to that woman, to the point of calling her name?”
Debert crossed his long legs, facing Arthur. His grey eyes, alive and vivid, unlike someone who had tossed and turned all night, were eerie.
He looked possessed.
Arthur’s expression hardened.
“Debert, pull yourself together.”
“I can’t be any more together than this.”
Debert muttered, as if to himself.
Though it sounded offhand, he was sincere. He couldn’t be any more sane than this, with his mind becoming clearer and clearer.
“Will you search for that woman?”
“Search?”
Debert intently gazed at his jacket hanging nearby. Arthur also seemed to be looking at the same spot, but he appeared unaware of the significance of the plain military uniform.
Debert quietly chuckled as he drank the remaining whiskey.
How perfectly the message she left suited my heart.
“I’ll wait.”
“Wait?”
“Since she said she’d come back, I have to wait for her.”
Ah, Arthur exhaled a sigh-like breath.
“I can only hope she returns when I’m being good.”
Debert rose from his seat and headed to the dressing room. Wearing a black suit instead of the leather military uniform, he embodied the image of the envied Duke.
“Where on earth are you going?”
Arthur asked somewhat irritably as he also stood up.
Debert descended the long staircase in an orderly manner, buttoning up his suit. The sunlight, now approaching noon, poured in unfiltered through the windows lining the corridors.
The butler bowed his head as his master, backlit by the brilliant sunlight, approached.
“Where shall I take you, Your Grace?”
The landscape, which had been obscured by darkness the previous night, was now clearly visible. It was a world that belonged solely to Debert Cliff.
“Announce that the master has arrived.”
Despite Debert’s cryptic words, the butler nodded and relayed something to the driver. Debert was about to get into the car when he called the butler back.
“Is there anything else you need?”
“Tend to the garden.”
“The garden?”
The butler’s wrinkled eyes widened with surprise, but quickly returned to normal. He was the type who never added his own opinion to Debert’s instructions.
“I will manage it diligently.”
“And.”
Debert’s long finger pointed to the top of the manor.
“Thoroughly clean the Ms.Cliff’s room.”
This time, even the experienced butler could not hide the emotion on his face.
Certain rooms in the manor were like sacred sanctums. One of them was the Mrs. Cliff’s room. That closed-off space was not something to be mentioned lightly.
And now the Duke was speaking of it.
The butler nodded, his face filled with reverence.
“I will see to it.”
“I appreciate it.”
The butler watched the retreating car for a long time. Perhaps spring was coming to the Cliff estate, which had only known biting winters.
A kind smile graced the butler’s lips as he thought of the young Duke’s heir.
* * *
Debert’s car stopped in front of the imposing building in the heart of Wayne.
The men getting out of the other cars and carriages that had also stopped at the gate recognized Debert and paused in their steps. Debert graciously acknowledged them with a light nod.
With his arrival, the clamour of footsteps echoed through the building.
“Ah, I didn’t expect the Duke to come.”
A flustered middle-aged man stammered, unsure if his words were directed at Debert or just muttering to himself.
“I heard there was a shareholders’ meeting today, isn’t that right?”
Debert responded with a gentlemanly smile as he entered the meeting room.
“Debert?”
“The Duke has come?”
The unexpected appearance of the Duke flustered the gathered group, but Debert approached the head of the long table, unfazed.
“Your Grace, we thought you would still be resting.”
Among them, the most senior director spoke first.
It was a pathetic excuse. Everyone knew that while Debert was away on the battlefield, others were secretly lining their pockets through backdoor deals.
Debert had turned a blind eye to this for years. It wasn’t out of generous tolerance, nor was it a mistake born of naivety.
It was merely a testament to his own helplessness.
Whenever the Duke would occasionally drop by for the annual meeting, he would always dismiss them with a “carry on then.” The Cliff Duke, who viewed the world with dead eyes, was the prey of the directors.
But the Duke before them now was different in some way.
There was a certain liveliness, or perhaps vitality, rippling in his grey eyes. The derogatory moniker of “war demon” that circulated around him naturally came to mind.
The executives broke out in a cold sweat, as if the living Debert Cliff had finally revealed himself.
“I can no longer leave the Cliff family’s signature in others’ hands.”
Debert leisurely pulled a fountain pen from his chest pocket.
“You’ve taken on a lot in my absence.”
The hands of the directors flipping through the documents paused.
“This shareholders’ meeting will be a long one.”
Debert casually spoke, loosening the tightly knotted tie.
“I intend to hear about how much you’ve all devoted yourselves to the Cliff family.”
Debert surveyed the table with a relaxed smile. They were all older than him, but greed knows no age.
As the nervous voice recited the agenda, Debert listened attentively. Despite having been on the battlefield until just a few days ago, Debert analysed the matters with keen precision.
With each remark he made, the directors were left flustered. Some had been working with the late Duke Cassius, and they saw the image of Cassius in the young Duke’s face.
The shareholders’ meeting that began at noon ended only as the sun was setting. Even then, Debert dismissed them, saying they would continue in the morning.
“He’s driving me mad.”
“Shh, keep it down. Everyone can hear you.”
“Just how much did you know when you came here?”
It was only after everyone had left the room that Debert stood up.
Across from the blacked-out window, the Imperial Hospital of Wayne was visible.
“A hospital facing the military supply company, how ironic.”
He let out a bitter chuckle at the stark contradiction.
With each step down the empty corridor, the sound of his footsteps echoed ominously, unlike the creaking of the field hospital.
“Your Grace, a message has arrived.”
The driver, who had been waiting for his master, handed Debert an invitation. Recognizing the familiar golden emblem on the envelope, Debert glanced up at the sound of the bell ringing.
It was the signal for the official celebratory banquet to begin, marking the end of the war.
