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Chapter 35
[Among the Five, There Is an Accomplice]
After reviewing the petition, General Oceanus immediately consulted with the king. The king readily gave permission to set a trap.
For a month, the five knights who had been suspended from duty were placed under surveillance.
And soon, one of them—Sir Lelli, who claimed he was caring for his sick grandparents—was found engaging in suspicious activity.
“The so-called sick grandparents he lived with never existed.”
“Then who were they?”
“Accomplices. They were cultivating poppies in the woods behind the house.”
“Oh my…”
The marquess let out a weary sigh.
In the kingdom, drugs were a serious crime. Possession and trafficking could earn even a first-time offender prison time. Manufacturing them, above all, was punishable only by death.
“So he was the real ringleader.”
The general nodded.
“Neither the rear admiral nor Sir Delat had any contact with the Empire.”
“And the remaining knights?”
“We’ll keep them under watch. But they’ll probably resign from the knighthood on their own within a few months. Pity might follow them, but the honorable Royal Order will not forgive their involvement so easily.”
“Well then, that settles it, doesn’t it?”
Having finished his explanation, General Oceanus asked the question he was most curious about:
“Why did the big kid call you?”
“How old does he have to be before you stop calling him a kid?”
“To a grandfather, all grandchildren are kids.”
“And please, at least tie your hair back. Or trim your beard, at the very least.”
“You don’t understand a man’s style. This—this wildness—is the very symbol of vigor!”
When he turned to ask the chauffeur for agreement, the man chuckled good-naturedly and nodded.
“General Oceanus, you’re our idol.”
“See?”
The White Lion, General Albus Oceanus, snorted proudly.
To his daughter, Marchioness Aithra Oceanus, it was nothing but childish nonsense. She already knew exactly why her father went around with his hair untamed.
“…He called to ask if he could use his private funds,” Aithra said.
“Private funds?” Albus squinted one eye.
“Why would he need your permission? He can just use them.”
“You know how he is—always hesitating, always too considerate.”
“That boy worries too much about things he doesn’t need to! How long is he going to keep acting so ill-suited to himself?”
Though his tone was grumbling, it was thick with concern.
“So, why the money all of a sudden?”
“Most likely…”
Just as Leto had expected, all his expenses were being reported in detail to the marquess. And the conclusion was obvious.
“Looks like he’s getting married.”
The White Lion, idol of the people, dropped his jaw wide open. His dumbfounded expression was so ridiculous that Aithra felt her frustration lift, replaced with a refreshing sense of relief.
Noah and Leto’s wedding was set for June 5th.
“I still can’t believe this is really happening…”
Turning over the calendar, As looked at the date with disbelief.
“Didn’t I tell you?” Leto appeared out of nowhere, smirking.
“The power of the nobility is still alive and well.”
“Did I ever tell you I love you, my little lord?”
“I appreciate the sentiment, but I already have a beloved bride. Please keep your tender feelings for me to yourself.”
“If your money is the only reason you can flap that mouth, then it’s a very fine decision indeed.”
As recalled the brand-new washing machine that had just been installed in the laundry room two days earlier, and forced himself to raise his estimation of Leto’s character. Truly, a man’s refinement came from money. Otherwise, he would have already punched that pretty face.
“You really are amazing.”
That, at least, was said sincerely.
For Leto had actually managed to carry out his determination to marry within six weeks—thanks to his noble status and overwhelming wealth.
Noah’s dress and Leto’s suit were selected from fashion magazines; within days, designers personally visited the estate carrying the garments. Shoes and jewelry to match each dress were included as well.
The wedding was set in a cathedral overlooking the sea. The cardinal there gladly accepted the couple’s earnest request. It certainly wasn’t because of the enormous “donation” the groom had contributed.
Decorations, catering, and event management were entrusted to professionals and proceeded smoothly. Only the invitations were handwritten by Noah and Leto themselves. Since they were inviting only family, colleagues, and a few close acquaintances, there weren’t many to write.
“…It’s all going so smoothly, it doesn’t even feel like we’re getting married,” Noah muttered lazily from the sofa.
“My bride, don’t say that, you’ll make my heart sink,” Leto whimpered dramatically, kneeling on one knee by the sofa. His broad, healthy frame—fit to live a thousand years—shook with exaggerated emotion.
“Quit pretending to cry and move.”
Noah pushed his face away halfheartedly; with such weak force it barely moved him, but Leto fell over theatrically.
“Now there are only three things left.”
As joined them, sitting on the empty sofa. The wedding was now only about two weeks away.
“Wedding photos, the family meeting…”
“That’s only two. Isn’t that everything?” Leto asked.
“Just in case you’re thinking it, there will absolutely not be any bachelor or bachelorette party. Anyway, Noah and I already—long ago—gave each other our first…”
“You lunatic!”
Noah kicked him, face burning red. This time there was real strength behind it, and Leto had to clutch his back and groan for quite a while.
As, however, had already grasped the implication and wore an expression of disgust that showed no sign of softening.
“As! It’s not like that!” Noah protested.
“Honestly, if you two cling like that but claim you’ve never done anything, that would be stranger.”
“….”
“I don’t ask for much, but at least be careful in front of the young lady.”
The warning was aimed more at Leto than at Noah.
“I am careful, so that no one notices—”
“Enough!”
Noah smacked Leto’s pretty lips with her palm just as—
“Sis! As!”
Clare ran in from the garden.
“Mom and Dad are here!”
With their parents in tow.
The family meeting finally took place just two weeks before the wedding—barely in time.
But calling it a “meeting of families” was misleading. Noah’s parents were present, but Leto had no guardian at all.
“They’re busy,” he said, sensing the pointed stares. He sounded as if it truly didn’t matter.
But Noah couldn’t accept that at face value.
“Did you even contact them?”
“Since they’re busy, I didn’t.”
Though he answered honestly, Leto still watched Noah nervously, like a guilty child. The sight was so pitiful that she reached out.
“…Come here.”
Pathetic as he was, she couldn’t help but care for him—and forgive him, no matter what.
Like a magnet, Leto leaned into her hand and closed his eyes. Noah kissed the corner of his eye as if scolding him, and the crestfallen coward gave her a faint smile.
Together they entered the parlor.
Leto was now almost certain this estate was connected to nobility. The gently sloping hill, easy to climb even for elders with walking sticks, was the only high ground in the Sharpe domain. And high places always belonged to those with power.
“What do your parents do again?” he asked, straightening his outfit—gray suit, dark shirt with black stripes—magnificent, though tension had every muscle rigid.
“They work at the Mage Tower. Both are senior researchers.”
“In old terms, that means they’re high-ranking mages.”
“If you rub them the wrong way, they might just burn you alive.”
“Then they’d have to be stronger than me…”
Feigning bravado to mask his nerves, Leto entered.
“Brother-in-law!”
Clare waved from between her parents. Leto waved back—then met the eyes of the adults beside her.
The man who seemed to be Noah’s father looked so youthful it was hard to guess his age. With golden hair like a ripe orange and a warm smile as he gazed at his daughters, Leto could glimpse his gentle nature. The sight was so disarming it made Leto feel almost unworthy to look directly.
So his gaze shifted naturally to the mother.
A middle-aged woman with platinum hair cut short, her features were sharp—very much like Noah’s own lofty, prickly expressionless face. She too was beautiful, but carried an aura of refined authority, as if she had already claimed sovereignty over this small room.
“It’s an honor to meet you.”
Leto wiped his sweaty palm discreetly and extended his hand.
“I am Leto Oceanus. My impatience to marry Miss Noah Velo has led to this discourtesy. I only regret greeting you so late.”
Fortunately, his hand was not rejected.
“At least you know enough to be regretful,” she replied. Her tone was laced with sarcasm but not malice.
“I’m Noah’s mother, Jenny Velo. You can call me Jenny.”
“Please call me by my name as well.”
After Jenny shook his hand, Noah’s father extended his own.
“I’m Ameta Velo.”
“Leto Oceanus. And you as well, sir, may call me—”
“Don’t call me ‘sir’ or ‘father.’”
With the same face that had smiled so warmly at his daughters, Ameta erected an icy wall. The atmosphere in the parlor froze like the northern glaciers.
Leto froze as well, hand still clasped, then nodded in understanding.
“Understood, Father-in-law.”
“Don’t call me that either.”
“Then I’ll call you Dad.”
“I absolutely oppose this marriage!”
Finally, Ameta flung Leto’s hand away and collapsed onto the sofa, covering his face with both hands.
“…Are you crying?” Leto whispered in disbelief.
“This is why Grandma left the seat of head of the family to me,” Clare sighed, shaking her head at her father, who was bawling that the marriage was too soon.
“Stop it! A man should only cry for joy, grief, or when a relative has secretly squandered the entire family fortune as guarantor.”
While her cute scolding went on, Noah fanned her flushed face with one hand, mortified.
“Dad, you’re so embarrassing…”
And yet she didn’t bother to hide the faint upward curl of her lips.
