OPDPS 129

“If we can tie the Grand Duke into this, great. If not, we just take the prince.”

The mage had used some trick, and the prince had vanished. Thanks to the Grand Duke’s knights, he couldn’t pursue them further. Still, there was no need to hear the conversation to know what they’d been discussing.

Probably plotting an escape under cover of night.

In any case, all he needed was the prince. The Emperor’s promised reward shimmered before his eyes. With that kind of reward, he could quit this line of work and return home to live happily with his family.

Ruining the prince’s life for the sake of his own happiness—but he felt no guilt. The prince had been lucky enough to be born a son of the Emperor. Whether the rest of his life was miserable or not, what did it matter?

Sir Dervan leisurely made his way back to the Grand Duke’s castle. The room he’d been given was narrow and tucked away, and when he entered, Baron Berel was clutching his pounding head, groaning in a hangover.

“Pathetic.”

“Shut up. You think I drank because I wanted to?”

“So, did you find anything out?”

“…”

The baron fell silent and averted his gaze.

“Nothing?”

“…He’s capable, and well-liked across the board. Are we sure he’s the youngest prince?”

“He is. I confirmed it myself this time.”

“…That’s weird. Really weird.”

“What is?”

“The people here at the castle… they’ve always been careful with their words—everyone’s scared of the Grand Duke, so they watch what they say even in private. But this time, it’s different. It’s like… they’re all united under one shared purpose. Like they’re clamming up deliberately.”

Dervan snorted.

“So, you found nothing. No openings we can exploit to tie him to the Grand Duke?”

“…Give me a little more time. I’ve been working on getting closer to Lady Merel. Something’s bound to come up that we can use.”

“If we’re going to fabricate a statement, we’ll need to hurry. I think I’ll be able to seize the prince soon.”

The baron gave a small nod and covered his face again, groaning. Dervan clicked his tongue silently and stepped outside to inspect the outer quarter.

But Baron Berel wasn’t just suffering from a hangover. A letter from Baroness Berel had just arrived.

“Looks like people under the Grand Duke’s influence are going around meeting with princes and princesses? Why?”

Tensions were already stirring quietly in the imperial family over the issue of succession. The Crown Prince had earned the Emperor’s ire by meddling in the Grand Duke’s grain negotiations, completely overstepping his place.

Now that people were openly mocking him—saying even the Emperor had no regard for him—reports of his past misconduct had begun to surface in a steady stream.

Given all that, the Grand Duke’s intentions seemed all the more suspicious.

‘And I’m supposed to meet with the Grand Duke tomorrow…’

Was it still possible to back out now? The baron found himself desperately wanting to go home.

***

As the evening glow faded, darkness slowly settled over the Grand Duke’s castle. Aeryl sat before the large hearth, quietly watching as the flames sharpened and flared.

The Grand Duke sat beside him. This was the third-floor, reserved for the Grand Duke’s family. It was a space meant for the family to gather and spend time together. Though clean, it bore no signs of actual use.

Even the Grand Duke seemed unfamiliar with the room, glancing around now and then. Aeryl, who had never been here before, looked more at ease.

He had simply given up at this point.

Originally, Aeryl had planned to return straight to his room after the walk and rest. But the Grand Duke had insisted he warm up and brought him here instead.

The fire was already lit, and the room was warm. Led by a maid, he sat down before the hearth almost in a daze, and the attendants placed down a spread of food and items before slipping away.

Being alone with the Grand Duke felt burdensome, but getting up and leaving right away would’ve been awkward. He had planned to just pretend to nibble at the food… but his hunger had gotten the better of him, and now here they were.

‘This really isn’t the time for this. Then again, I didn’t eat properly all day.’

All he’d done was drink tea while dealing with Lady Merel and Derbas, so it was only natural. While Aeryl ate with surprising focus, the Grand Duke tended to him—pouring him drinks, tucking the fallen blanket back over his shoulders.

He wasn’t even sick, yet the Grand Duke’s attentive care made his heart stir again.

‘Don’t let your guard down.’

Aeryl shifted away slightly, fixing his gaze on the hearth. His body was warm, his stomach full. He began to think of a good moment to stand up, when the Grand Duke tapped the back of his hand lightly.

“…What is it?”

Aeryl asked, still looking into the fire.

“This is my first time really coming into this room since I was a baby.”

“…It’s the family lounge, though?”

It was supposed to be for the Grand Duke’s family.

It was rare for the Grand Duke to speak about himself. Aeryl, despite his earlier resolve to be cautious, found himself turning to look at him and asking back, curiosity easily winning out.

“Lady Merel always looked uncomfortable around me. I spent most of my time training or studying anyway, so I rarely had time for this place.”

“Then… what about before that?”

The Grand Duke had been a child once too, hadn’t he?

“My mother… she was always bedridden. Rarely in her right mind. I don’t have many good memories of her.”

The Grand Duke frowned, as though he didn’t want to think about it. Did he have some kind of painful memory?

Now that he thought about it, Aeryl realized the Grand Duke occasionally spoke of his father, but never of his mother. Aeryl wanted to ask more—but couldn’t bring himself to.

“Curious?”

“No.”

“You’ve got the face of someone who is.”

At the Grand Duke’s remark, Aeryl pressed his palms firmly against his cheeks. What do you mean, curious face? My expression management is flawless. The Grand Duke simply gazed at him quietly before speaking again.

“My mother… it’s not easy to talk about her. But if I were to tell anyone, it would be you.”

The words Then ‘I’ll wait’ rose to the tip of his tongue—but he didn’t let them slip out. He didn’t know how much time they had left, and he didn’t want to say anything he couldn’t take responsibility for.

“Today, I met with Lady Merel.”

Instead, Aeryl shifted the subject. The Grand Duke leaned toward him, listening closely—though there was no need; he would’ve heard him just fine without doing that.

“She asked for my help.”

“She asked something of you?”

“Yes. She wants to know what Your Grace is thinking.”

Aeryl gave a short summary of the conversation he’d had with the lady. After hearing him out, the Grand Duke asked in return:

“So Lady Merel told you I’m a usurper.”

Aeryl blinked in surprise. How did he know? He’d gone out of his way to avoid using words like usurpation. Truly, this was the Grand Duke.

“What do you think?” he asked. “Do you believe her?”

Aeryl hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to say, but in the end, chose to be honest.

“I don’t know.”

“Why?”

“All I’ve heard is her side of the story. I don’t think she was lying… but that doesn’t mean it was the whole truth.”

Just because something isn’t a lie doesn’t mean it’s entirely true. That was why Aeryl had wanted to hear the Grand Duke’s side as well—but he’d held himself back, thinking he didn’t have the right to ask.

“So it’s true.”

The Grand Duke muttered this almost to himself, then met Aeryl’s gaze.

“I defied my father’s wishes and took advantage of the chaos to steal my younger brother’s place. So yes, it was a usurpation.”

…That wasn’t the answer Aeryl had expected. Normally, even if it were true, people would deny it.

Yet despite hearing the Grand Duke admit it, Aeryl couldn’t shake a certain unease. He fell silent, lost in thought.

The Grand Duke, meanwhile, quietly watched Aeryl’s face as it shifted from surprise to confusion, then uncertainty. He’d been prepared to lay all his secrets bare—but now that he was faced with Aeryl’s changing expression, he was overcome with fear.

What would his next expression be? Would it be disappointment, scorn, fear, disgust?

Should he laugh it off as a joke? Turn his head away so he wouldn’t have to see it?

He was scared—so much that he began thinking of ways to avoid it, which was unlike him.

And then Aeryl finally spoke.

“No. That’s not what I wanted to hear.”

“If you’re hoping I’ll deny it…”

The Grand Duke’s expression twisted, and Aeryl quickly cut him off, hurriedly explaining himself.

“I want to hear your story. What you were thinking back then—what you felt. All of it.”

“Does something that small really matter?”

“It’s not small!”

After hearing Lady Merel’s account, Aeryl had thought long and hard about whether the Grand Duke was truly a usurper. The answer he’d come to was: Maybe, maybe not. But it doesn’t matter—he’s already ruling well.

The former Grand Duke had named a successor in front of his family, but it was never officially declared or documented. His death had come so suddenly that his words had become a de facto will—but who could say what his true intentions were?

Either way, the current Grand Duke was governing justly, and Lady Merel only wished for Sorel’s safety. At this point, the truth of that day didn’t even seem important.

“Please, tell me your story.”

Aeryl gently placed his hand over the Grand Duke’s.