Chapter 134: Why?

Chapter 134

The heavy oak door of the drawing room clicked shut as Marquess Caspian Warwick departed, leaving behind a silence punctured only by the howling northern wind against the leaded panes. Sigrid remained standing near the high windows, holding the leather-bound portfolio containing the sparse records of her mother’s lineage. Unfolding the heavy parchment once more, her crimson eyes scanned down to the remaining notes Caspian had compiled regarding the aftermath of her grandparents’ quiet collapse. Following the divorce from Duchess Lucille, Duke Matthias Thornwick had retreated entirely into his sprawling estate, severing all formal ties with the high court and refusing audiences with even the King’s messengers.

A dark spark of frustration flared within Sigrid’s chest, her fingers tightening around the edge of the parchment until the thick paper crinkled beneath her grip. In a rare display of quiet anger, she tossed the portfolio onto the mahogany desk. Why had they forced her mother into an arranged marriage with a grasping, lesser noble like Duke Vesper? Why had neither grandparent ever set foot in the Beaufort household, sent a single missive, or bothered to acknowledge their only granddaughter? A cold, bitter resentment surged through her heart as she contemplated their utter abandonment. Yet, a small, stubborn voice of cold logic reminded her that her mother had never once spoken of her childhood with bitterness or grief. The silence surrounding her lineage was not merely neglect; it was a deliberate shield. To uncover the truth, Sigrid realized she would eventually have to confront Duke Vesper directly, or perhaps breach the fortress of her reclusive grandfather, provided the old man would even grant her an audience.

Pushing the heavy thoughts aside for the moment, Sigrid turned to leave the drawing room just as young Rosie entered, carrying a silver tray to clear the discarded tea service. The young maid paused, offering a quick, respectful curtsy. Sigrid offered a subtle nod of acknowledgment before stepping into the main corridor, where Lilith stood awaiting her next command. "Lilith," Sigrid instructed smoothly, "fetch the iron key to the Duke’s private study from my bedchamber, then summon Leo to meet me there immediately." Lilith bowed deeply and departed without hesitation, while Sigrid made her way toward the central wing of the fortress.

Unlocking the heavy double doors of Soren’s private study, Sigrid stepped into the quiet room, which smelled faintly of old parchment and cedar wood. She seated herself behind the massive oak desk, her gaze sweeping over the stone walls. It struck her suddenly that despite Soren’s absolute authority over the northern territories, no portrait of him hung within the fortress—nor was there one of them together. Before the thought could linger, a polite knock sounded at the threshold, and the door swung open.

Lilith stood beside Leo, but before the young scribe could step inside, a small, dark shape shot past his ankles. Young Rony raced across the rug, his tiny hands reaching up toward the desk. Sigrid’s cool composure softened instantly into a genuine smile as she reached down, scooping the boy onto her lap before gesturing toward the leather armchair opposite her desk. "Take a seat, Leo."

Leo bowed respectfully before sitting on the very edge of the chair, his posture rigid with excitement. "You requested my presence, Your Grace?"

Sigrid set Rony comfortably on her lap, looking at the boy with serious intensity. "I require your literary skill, Leo. The time has come to formally construct my campaign for the Supreme Ministry of State."

Leo’s eyes lit up with ecstatic pride, and he leaned forward, bowing his head once more. "It would be my absolute honor, Duchess! I shall render every resource at my disposal to draft your manifestos."

Sigrid observed him closely, secretly impressed by his dedication; despite his youth, his written rhetoric was surprisingly sharp and precise, though she knew she would eventually need to expand her secretarial staff to handle the impending political burden.

"Tell me, Leonard," Sigrid tested calmly, resting her hands over Rony’s shoulders, "do you fully understand the official protocol by which the Supreme Minister of State is selected?"

Leo straightened his back, reciting the law with absolute clarity. "The candidates undergo five distinct phases, Your Grace. First is the Oral Examination, wherein candidates are questioned by senior officials on statecraft, economic crises, border defense, and administrative law. Second is the Strategic Proposal, where each candidate submits a comprehensive blueprint detailing their plan to govern the realm. Third is the Council Deliberation, where the Royal Council evaluates the proposals and submits recommendations. Fourth is the Monarch’s Sovereignty, where the King makes the final, unyielding decision regardless of noble pressure. And fifth is the Royal Investiture, where the victor takes the sacred oath before the high court."

Sigrid’s lips curved into an approving smile. "Precisely. The most treacherous phase shall be the examination, particularly the simulated crisis scenarios. The Supreme Minister is the supreme pillar beneath the Crown, governing every senior minister—including the Lord Chancellor. It requires absolute tactical foresight." She paused, reflecting on the weight of the office. "I was under the impression that there would be more candidates but only Viscount Dumbledore and I had submitted our names."

Leo quickly raised a hand, looking slightly abashed. "Ah, forgive me, Your Grace! The Viscount was merely the first to declare his intent. By the closing of the registry yesterday, six additional candidates from the high nobility had formally entered their names. There are eight candidates in total."

Sigrid chuckled softly, unfazed by the growing competition. "No matter. Tell me, who was the last minister to occupy the seat before its vacancy?"

"Lord Hadrian Duskborne," Leo replied instantly. "He resigned due to failing health a winter ago." Sigrid nodded slowly.

"You have conducted thorough research, Leo. I am pleased." Standing up while setting Rony gently back onto his feet, she turned to face her guards. Chester and Maude stood quietly near the doorway in heavy steel armor, while Lilith stood by the bookshelf. "This campaign shall prove grueling," Sigrid stated plainly. "I am a woman seeking supreme executive authority, wed to a Duke whom the Crown views as a constant threat. The court will seek to tear my reputation to shreds."

Leo looked down solemnly, but Sigrid’s voice remained cool and absolute. "Do not harbor despair, child. We shall dictate the terms of this war. Leo, your first assignment is to draft the preliminary outline of my Strategic Proposal—focusing upon economic reform for the northern trade routes."

Turning to her personal guards, she added, "Chester, Maude, prepare yourselves. My presence will be required at the royal palace far more frequently in the coming weeks. You shall command my personal vanguard." She then addressed her head maid. "Lilith, you shall remain here to oversee the security and administration of the fortress in my absence."

Lilith bowed low. "It shall be done as you command, Your Grace."

Before Sigrid could issue further instructions, another firm knock echoed down the corridor, and Nyla and Marquess Caspian Warwick came into the study, his expression uncharacteristically grim. Sigrid raised an eyebrow as Caspian stepped across the threshold, his dark eyes sweeping over the room. "Forgive the sudden intrusion, Duchess," Caspian began hastily, "but a fresh intelligence dispatch just reached my hand. As your sworn ally, I have maintained surveillance over key figures within the capital—specifically Countess Celestine Everhart."

Sigrid’s eyes narrowed slightly. "What has the Countess done?"

Caspian took a step closer, his tone dropping to a low whisper. "My scouts confirmed that Countess Celestine was seen departing the Dumbledore Estate late yesterday evening, following a private, secret audience with the Viscount."

Sigrid placed a thoughtful hand to her chin, her crimson eyes gleaming with cold calculation as her suspicions regarding Henry Dumbledore’s sudden change in behavior were firmly validated.

Caspian leaned in, his brow deeply furrowed. "Duchess, I urge extreme caution. There is a dark conspiracy coiling in the shadows, and I fear Celestine is weaving a net to trap you."

Sigrid offered a dry, amused smirk. "Do you believe her maneuvering relates to the recent scandal involving Prince Ragnar and Crown Princess Maria?"

Caspian stared at her in utter astonishment, his jaw slackening slightly. "What connection could Countess Celestine possibly have to the royal scandal?"

Sigrid shrugged her shoulders with casual indifference. "I had a brief, rather colorful interaction with the Countess prior to my departure from lady Beatrice’s household. She explicitly warned me that she intended to inflict severe retribution upon me for humiliating Maria."

Caspian gasped sharply, clutching his coat in exasperation. "And you did not deem it necessary to inform your chief information broker?!"

Sigrid gave a minor wave of her hand. "It was a petty threat from an arrogant woman; I saw no reason to burden you with her grandstanding."

"I am your sworn retainer, Duchess!" Caspian insisted, rubbing his temples in frustration. "If she moves against you, it could compromise your campaign for the Supreme Ministry—and by extension, undermine my own bid for the Lord Chancellorship!"

Before Sigrid could respond, a sudden, violent gust of wind rattled the heavy stained-glass windows of the study, followed by the deep, terrifying rumble of thunder echoing across the northern peaks. Leo hurried over to the window, peering out into the darkening sky. "The mountain pass has collapsed under a severe blizzard, Your Grace," the boy announced softly. "No carriage will be able to leave the fortress grounds tonight."

Caspian let out a resigned sigh, adjusting his velvet cuffs as he looked toward Sigrid. "It appears the northern weather has decreed that I remain your guest for the evening, Duchess. We shall have ample time to refine our countermeasures against the Crown."

Lilith offered a graceful curtsy. "I shall have the grand guest suite prepared for the Marquess immediately, Your Grace." As Lilith left to attend to the arrangements, Sigrid turned her gaze back toward the storm raging outside, her crimson eyes flashing with cold, unyielding ambition as the pieces of the grand game began to fall into place.