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Chapter 27
Dozens of torches blazed, their flames crackling with menace.
Surrounded by the Duke’s servants, all wearing grim expressions, Rosalyn showed not a shred of fear.
She neither flinched nor spoke, only gazing calmly at the fiery ring hemming her in.
The wall of flames parted. Duke Aindert strode forward, his eyes cold as steel.
Before him stood the so-called princess of a fallen nation—along with the foster son he himself had locked away in the northern tower. The culprits behind this midnight disturbance.
“It is rather late for a stroll, Your Highness.”
It was well past midnight, nearly dawn. His words were reasonable.
But Rosalyn’s reply was tranquil, unshaken.
“I could not sleep. I thought to take in some air.”
Her tone was detached, her demeanor lofty. She wore the role of the Tenebe princess with absolute conviction—as though royalty required no reason for its whims.
Her indifferent gaze swept over the servants who encircled her with torches, until it landed squarely back on the Duke.
“Why does the Duke hinder my walk?”
Her rebuke flipped the power dynamic in an instant.
For a heartbeat, the Duke only stared at her. Gray eyes, frigid and merciless, clashed in the night with her crimson irises, blazing like coals beneath the torchlight.
The standoff dragged on, silence taut as a drawn bowstring—until the Duke shifted his gaze.
Not to Rosalyn, but to the young man half-hidden behind her, shielded by her stance.
“And where, may I ask, did Your Highness make the acquaintance of the man behind you?”
“Sir Cassis, you mean?”
With that, Rosalyn revealed openly that she already knew Cassis’s true name.
“We met by chance. And he was gracious enough to keep me company on my walk.”
A blatant lie, but delivered with such unwavering confidence that some of the servants actually wavered.
The Duke, however, was unmoved. His eyes held no flicker of doubt.
It was then he finally identified the source of the strange dissonance he had felt from the very first moment he met this “princess.”
Rosalyn claimed to be Lushe Tristan Tenebe, last princess of a fallen realm. But she carried herself not like the delusional remnants of ruined royalty—clinging pathetically to bygone glory—but like a seasoned central aristocrat, well-versed in the language of politics.
An impossibility. Yet here she was.
The Duke let the mystery rest for now. His household’s order had been disturbed; that was the first matter to correct.
“Come here, Cassis.”
At that command, Rosalyn felt Cassis stiffen behind her.
It was the instinctive reaction of someone long conditioned by violence.
I’ve seen this before… too many times in my past life.
During investigations, one did not only encounter perpetrators. One also faced victims—victims who bore the scars of long years of abuse.
Cassis’s response was unmistakable.
Rosalyn stepped forward, blocking the Duke’s view of him, as though to shield him.
“I will return him after a little longer. Our conversation was so delightful, I fear I lost track of time. Do forgive us if we have caused inconvenience.”
Her words were polite, but her defiance was plain.
A heavy silence fell.
The only sound was the restless roar of dozens of torches, heightening the unbearable tension.
The night could erupt into violence at any moment.
And then—
“How romantic, a stroll by the lakeside.”
A voice, calm and unconcerned, slipped through the charged air.
The servants parted, startled, and into the circle walked Erich.
Rosalyn greeted him with a gentle smile.
“Who knew so many enjoyed a midnight walk?”
“Why, surely it is the beauty of tonight’s sky.”
Their exchange drew the Duke’s gaze upward.
But under the torchlight, no stars were visible, the heavens empty and dark.
His eyes fell back to earth—onto the suspicious princess, the foster son lurking at her back, and the ever-smiling Erich, who had now taken position as though ready to intervene.
It was a stage, clearly arranged.
And Duke Aindert had no taste for playing the fool on someone else’s stage.
“…Forgive me, Your Highness, for interrupting your walk.”
“Not at all. It was I who caused the commotion. My apologies.”
At the Duke’s gesture, the servants melted back into the shadows.
The two parted with calm, formal courtesies, as though nothing had transpired.
“Then may you enjoy a pleasant night.”
“And you as well, Duke.”
With a sharp turn, he left.
When the commotion subsided, Erich had already vanished as if he had never been there.
Once more, silence and darkness draped themselves over the lakeside, as if the uproar had been no more than a dream.
Ssshh—
The whisper of the wind brushed through the leaves, carrying away the last of the tension.
Rosalyn let her shoulders relax at last, then turned to Cassis.
“….”
Above them, the stars had reappeared, countless and unblinking. Beneath that sky, his eyes—vast and tranquil as the deep sea, yet pierced with a red so vivid it burned like the lone sun over an endless ocean—met hers.
“Sir Cassis,” she said softly, as if offering nothing more than an ordinary greeting.
She smiled.
“I’ll see you tomorrow at the knights’ headquarters.”
The performance was over. The deception had reached its end.
* * *
By rights, she ought to be in the captain’s office now, savoring the triumph of last night’s rescue with Cassis.
Instead—
“Welcome, future Duchess.”
It was Erich who stood before her.
And the location displeased her just as much as the man himself.
The captain’s office, yes—but not the one she expected.
“Why summon me here, to the Silver Knights’ headquarters?”
That morning, as she prepared to head for her own post at the Black Iron Knights, a Silver Knight had intercepted her.
“The captain requests your presence.”
No amount of protest about her actual duties made any difference.
“Would you dare defy the command of the Imperial Knights?”
Like master, like subordinate.
What a thoroughly detestable lot…
Yet she owed him some measure of thanks for his help in Cassis’s rescue. She could not pretend she hadn’t heard.
So she came—begrudgingly, dragging her feet.
And of course, the sight of Erich’s insufferably smiling face did nothing to improve her mood.
“Indeed, it seems the noble princess is not so easily reached.”
The smirk, the singsong tone—irritation flared across Rosalyn’s face.
“Enough nonsense. Why did you call me here?”
