Vol. 1 - Chapter 106

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The carriage that had departed for the Imperial Palace returned not long after. As he accepted Edmund’s jacket, Benjamin instantly sensed that something had happened.

“Send the Baroness to Daphne.”

“Yes, understood.”

That order from Edmund only confirmed Benjamin’s suspicion.

“Your Excellency. There is… a guest waiting.”

“A guest?”

Edmund repeated the words just as he opened the door to his office.

“You’ve arrived.”

“…Your Highness.”

Edmund faltered slightly when he spotted Carlito seated inside his office. Dressed casually, Carlito greeted him with a smile and a wave.

“It’s been a while. What’s it been… almost a month? Ah, come, have a seat.”

Carlito gestured naturally to a chair, as though he were the host rather than the guest. Edmund sat down across from him and spoke.

“What brings you here without so much as a letter?”

“I have a feeling the letter may have been intercepted.”

The painted-on smile vanished from Carlito’s face in an instant. He straightened his posture, no longer leaning back in a relaxed pose.

“Did you catch the culprit?”

“Not yet. It seems a rat slipped in… but thankfully, the letter that was discovered didn’t contain anything crucial.”

Carlito shrugged.

“I think it’s about time I started preparing to return to the capital.”

Officially, Carlito was as good as dead. Word had quietly spread that he’d died in the south, and yet the Imperial family had issued no statement, simply remaining silent. That, too, was part of Carlito’s plan. He intended to sneak into the capital under the assumption, even by Sergei, that he was dead. Marquis Bled, who had orchestrated this entire plan, likely already knew that Carlito was still alive. That would explain how Carlito remained untouched despite the intercepted letter.

Sergei was simply waiting for Carlito to walk into the palace of his own accord.

“I plan to execute the operation a week before Foundation Day.”

That was the plan.

According to the information Carlito had gathered, the Saintess would make her appearance on the day of the Foundation Day. With a High Priest already possessing extraordinary divine power, her appearance would elevate the Temple’s authority to an entirely new level.

As things currently stood, Sergei had secured both the High Priest and the Saintess as allies, a flawless setup. If his power continued to grow, even the neutral nobles would eventually align themselves with him out of fear. And once that happened, the odds of Carlito’s coup succeeding would be cut in half.

That was why everything had to be dealt with before the Saintess could appear.

“Your Highness, are you aware of the sorcerers under Marquis Bled?”

“Sorcerers? I thought they’d long disappeared.”

“At present, the Marquis is using them to manipulate and recruit noble families. We’ve even discovered someone from your own faction who was affected by dark magic.”

Edmund then filled Carlito in on what had transpired within the palace.

“We’re interrogating him, but the chances of success are slim. The spell won’t break unless the sorcerer who cast it is killed.”

“I don’t know much about sorcerers, but I have heard of the experiments.”

Carlito furrowed his brows, digging through vague memories. It had been long ago, and the details were hazy.

“The Marquis has been obsessed with experimentation since he was young. The problem is, he disguised the deaths of several relatives as accidents and used them as test subjects.”

It was horrifying. Over the span of a single year, more than eight members of collateral branches of the family had died and three had gone missing. And that wasn’t the only oddity. Each of those families saw their fortunes double within a month of reporting the deaths, and all were said to have moved far overseas.

They also shared another trait – crippling debt that would have driven them to ruin anyway.

“There’s no proof. It’s just something I picked up somewhere.”

Carlito shrugged, suggesting not to take it too seriously. But for some reason, Edmund couldn’t let go of the idea of the experiments.

‘Experiments…’

The thought left a bitter taste, as though the answer was always just out of reach.

“But if the Marquis is now extending his reach even to those he’s already recruited, further alliances will become impossible…”

“There is a way. Those afflicted with dark magic exhibit red eyes, at least temporarily.”

“That won’t be easy.”

Carlito rubbed his coarse chin and sighed.

“Still, it’s a relief we have Count Mute. As long as he’s around, Sergei won’t be able to completely take control of the Imperial Palace before the plan goes into effect.”

With Yureit’s return, Sergei’s influence at court had significantly waned. Every time Sergei made a move, Yureit would counter it. It was no surprise that his reach had grown weaker.

“So what will you do next?”

“I intend to attend every banquet leading up to the Foundation Day.”

“A good idea. Just your presence alone will bolster Count Mute’s position.”

Everyone knew that Edmund and Count Mute shared the same bloodline. If the Emperor’s tyranny continued unchecked, and Sergei’s abuses worsened, then the terrified nobles would be far more likely to be swayed by Count Mute.

“Well then, I’m sure we’ll meet again soon.”

With those parting words, Carlito pulled his hood low over his face.

Edmund watched from the window as Carlito disappeared down the road with his men, then quietly returned to his seat. A wave of pain surged through his head, and Edmund let out a low groan as he pulled a cigarette from his coat.

[“Regret?”]

His hand paused as he struck the match. Cigarette still between his lips, Edmund blinked slowly.

[“Don’t. Just… don’t do anything.”]

He stared down at the cigarette in his hand. By the time he came to, it had been crushed beyond the point of smoking.

“Haa.”

A sigh deeper than the smoke he hadn’t inhaled escaped him. He already knew that he wouldn’t sleep tonight either.

And he was right.

* * *

The next morning, Daphne climbed into the carriage where Edmund was already seated.

“Let’s go.”

He gave the order once she’d taken her seat.

“We’ve found traces of Damian.”

“…”

“We plan to make contact with him today.”

His tone was dry, as if merely reporting to a superior.

“…I see.”

Daphne replied vaguely and turned back to the window.

— — —

As always, the banquet was tedious. Daphne couldn’t relate to the people laughing merrily around her.

‘I want to leave.’

But where? She flinched at the thought. Was there anywhere for her to return to? Any place she could truly call home? Daphne swallowed her sigh.

Unlike yesterday, Elizabeth was present at today’s banquet. Her stare bore into Daphne as though trying to devour her whole, making the evening even more exhausting.

“Excuse me.”

From the moment she entered, Elizabeth hadn’t taken her eyes off Edmund and Daphne. Now, she began walking toward them. As she drew closer, heat rose to Daphne’s cheeks, only recently recovered from swelling, making her body stiffen with tension.

All eyes in the banquet hall turned to them. It was inevitable. Edmund and Elizabeth had once held an engagement ceremony, and Elizabeth had nearly become Daphne’s predecessor. Now the three stood in one place again, and the entire crowd watched in breathless silence.

“It’s been a while, Duke. And Duchess.”

“…Has it?”

Rather than greeting her properly, Edmund replied with a vague remark. His demeanor clearly conveyed that he wasn’t pleased by Elizabeth’s appearance, prompting a ripple of tension through the guests.

“If the Duchess would permit it, I’d like to dance a song with the Duke.”

Edmund turned to Daphne.

“What do you think?”

An unexplainable anxiety crept up his spine. He anxiously waited to see if she would nod.

“…Does my opinion matter?”

Daphne replied indifferently, her eyes half-lowered.

“Then I’ll have to ask the Duke.”

Elizabeth turned to Edmund and, where Daphne couldn’t see, mouthed her words.

“Well? Will you dance with me?”

“…Daphne, stay with Alec for a while.”

Edmund stepped forward, took Elizabeth’s offered hand, and led her to the center of the ballroom.

“Oh my. Is it alright to leave your Duchess alone like that?”

“What’s your game?”

Edmund asked as soon as the music began.

“I had my doubts, but seeing how you’re acting now… I’m sure of it.”

Elizabeth smiled sweetly.

“You’re being blackmailed, aren’t you?”

When Edmund’s brow twitched, Elizabeth let out a bright laugh.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that. I’m genuinely curious.”

And she was. Truly.

How had Daphne discovered Edmund’s weakness and managed to marry him? And what was that weakness?

She had learned the truth just the night before, standing in the chaos of a wrecked room, trying to suppress her rage.

[“My sister blackmailed the Duke into a contract marriage, Your Highness.”]

T/N: Despicable