The door was like a boundary transcending time and space. The moment it opened, the Countess was seized by the illusion that she had returned to over a decade ago.
The Duchess’s ladies-in-waiting, impeccably dressed in dark gray gowns with rigidly straight backs, glided into the room. Their gazes were dark and unyielding, like mahogany that had endured the storms of countless years. Even Countess Ruwen, who had been on the verge of slapping Lady Isaac’s cheek, was cowed by their momentum and could only gape.
The eyes of Lady Isaac and the Countess met in the air. Lady Isaac read intense resistance in the Countess’s gaze. The Countess had tried not to yield even a single piece of firewood, as if all of this belonged to her.
How shameless.
She stepped forward and spoke the words she had wanted to say for all those years.
“I have come to collect the items Her Grace commanded to be brought, Countess Rinko.”
Moreover, she intended to reclaim them piece by piece and thereby show her how vain that wish had been.
“Bring the treasures of Richmond. Along with the key to the Blue Room.”
As soon as the talk of Richmond’s treasures and the Blue Room left her mouth, cracks formed in the haughty expressions of the noblewomen. Those wearing rings furtively hid their hands, and those wearing necklaces pointlessly lowered their chins. All of them knew deep down that their actions were wrong.
Lady Isaac’s gaze swept across the noblewomen and finally landed on the Countess.
“Set down the treasures each of you currently carry on your persons, and bring the items you are safeguarding by today as well.”
Lady Isaac spoke, investing the emotions of the past years into each and every syllable.
“Let us slowly address the crime of embezzling treasures without so much as the Duchess’s permission.”
The Countess could only watch with her eyes wide open as her dignity was ground away.
Wondering if this terrible day might be nothing more than a dream.
＊ ＊ ＊
Over a decade ago, the ducal faction nobles were politically defeated by the count faction nobles. The Count, enjoying the prime of his age and ability, and the young Duke, who had lost his parents and hidden in his grandmother’s skirts, were in fact incomparable.
And so the young Duke, together with five hundred knights, marched toward the Wall of Death. Their deaths were as obvious as fire, and even if news of their demise had arrived at any moment, everyone in Richmond Ducal Castle would have nodded in acceptance. They merely believed it was only a matter of time.
Yet even after one or two years passed, no news of death arrived. They thought it a stroke of luck. But luck repeated, and eventually, the miracle of them all returning alive had occurred.
How had they survived? Did the demonic beasts, which appeared without warning, happen not to show themselves before the Duke and his knights?
The knights and soldiers guarding the underground prison soon realized that the reason they had survived was no simple stroke of luck.
They were merely three.
The Duke, Joseph Rexton, and Crimson Isaac.
Yet they devoured the underground with their mere presence. With just their gazes, expressions, gait, and the smallest movements, they overwhelmed the hardened knights and soldiers of the underground.
To survive among the swarming demonic beasts, they had become beings more vicious and powerful than the beasts themselves. The demonic beasts that could not kill them had made them stronger.
And at the center of that group was the Duke.
“Hrrrrr, uuuuurk.”
“Mr. Pak! Won’t you shut your mouth?!”
Joseph barked with a face fearsome enough to haunt nightmares, but Soebal only howled like a man who had already lost his mind.
What made even the knights’ spines run cold, more than Soebal’s howling driven mad by the terror of the dark room, was the Duke’s demeanor as he watched Soebal’s behavior. Seated in the judge’s chair, the Duke maintained an impassive air, as if looking at an inanimate object.
“Hrrraaaaack!”
When his thrashing intensified, the Duke, who had been silent until then, rose from his seat. Soebal, who had been struggling seated on the floor, instinctively hesitated and shrank back as Ares approached. Joseph blocked his retreat with his leg as if disgusted, and in that time, Ares came right up to his nose and stared down at the liar with both hands thrust into his pockets.
Then he tossed out a single word.
“Do more.”
The madness that had been devouring reason faltered before the malice.
“Are you done?”
Soebal stared blankly at the man who had perfectly melded with the darkness of the underground. For the first time, he realized that an expression of utter boredom could be so terrifying.
Ares took his hands from his pockets and squatted down. The burly man’s frame felt like a massive mountain range. As Soebal wheezed roughly and took gauge of the situation, Ares whispered lowly.
“I’ve endured the boredom and watched all your antics until now. So open your mouth.”
“…….”
“Who did you make a deal with?”
“…….”
“I see.”
“Huh?”
Soebal asked back in confusion. But Ares seemed to have not even a sliver of patience remaining, as he turned away without hesitation and commanded Joseph.
“Lock him up again.”
“Y-Your Grace!”
“He’s noisy, so gag him and lock him up.”
“Yes, sir!”
Even in this situation, Soebal had thought that what he knew might become a card to trade with the Duke. But before Ares’s resolute attitude, he turned ashen. The Duke had no intention of showing mercy.
He seemed indifferent as to whether Soebal spoke the truth or not. This was no time to dare make a deal.
Soebal begged in the most abject posture imaginable.
“I will tell anything Your Grace asks, everything I know, exactly as it is. Please, please spare me, hnnng.”
Into his prostrate field of vision, as he begged frantically, came a pair of black leather shoes. Creaking, he raised his head, and the man holding his lifeline stood tall, looking down at him.
“It is not about answering what I ask. You must speak everything you know. Speak while hoping that among it is information I need.”
A fear greater than the terror of the dark room gripped Soebal’s nape. Having lost his hands and feet for money, only to walk into a black tiger’s den of his own accord. He cursed his own foolishness and quickly opened his mouth before Ares’s patience ran out.
＊ ＊ ＊
Count Rinko’s office was solemn, yet chaotic.
“All the Duchess’s ladies-in-waiting have entered the castle.”
“Then it’s only a matter of time before the knights enter as well.”
“Perhaps.”
Edward, leaning obliquely against the window with his arms crossed, followed the whispering voices with his eyes, staying out of Count Rinko’s earshot.
“Damn it!!”
Just then, Count Rinko slammed his desk, unable to contain his anger, and the nobles who had been talking amongst themselves jumped in fright and fell silent. The Count’s momentum was so terrifying that no one dared speak to him.
In the end, Edward sent the gathered nobles out.
“Please gather again at dawn tomorrow.”
“Ah… yes. Do that. Still, it’s a relief you are here. Assist your father well.”
“Young Count. Please take good care of Count Ruwen. Contact me if anything happens.”
“I will.”
As the nobles exited the office, the Count, who had been panting with rage, vented his fury at Edward.
“You!! Have you no tact?! Seeing your mother’s expression there, and yet you made such a statement?!”
“…….”
“Everything went awry because of your statement, everything!!”
“Father.”
Count Rinko flinched at his son’s calm voice.
Perhaps because he had inherited his grandfather’s name, Edward Rinko resembled his grandfather more than his father. In appearance and in personality.
“Any ordinary family would feign ignorance and bury it, kill it with fire. How could the daughter of the former Duke Taylor be entangled with unseen ones?”
“Damn it.”
“Have you ever thought by what connection the Duke, who was always at the Wall of Death, and the Duke’s daughter residing in Taylor Ducal Castle could have become lovers?”
The Count ran his hand over his face.
“That is a question for me as well.”
“It is not a question. It is a trap.”
“…….”
“The Duke and the Taylor Duke’s daughter joined hands to lay a trap.”
The Count’s face flushed red. He took rough, deep breaths and paced about the room in disarray. He looked extremely anxious.
No, he had always been like that. Father and mother were always anxious. Like standing on thin ice, like one who had built a castle on sand. Only today did Edward realize what the substance of that anxiety was. Kneeling on one knee to the Duke and offering the courtesy of a vassal had been an unconscious act.
Edward slowly took a deep breath, then exhaled and offered his insight.
“Go and apologize to the Duke and the Duchess.”
“…What?”
“Lay everything down and return to the Rinko estate. Beg for mercy, asking that they spare your life in consideration of the merit of having looked after Richmond Ducal House in their stead all this time.”
“…You!”
“Is it that you do not wish to apologize, or is it that you cannot be forgiven even if you apologize?”
The Count lost his words. Edward read the answer in his father’s silence.
“Were you involved in the former Duke’s death?”