DBOFS 56

Chapter 56

“…!”

Silence fell over the hall.

Harris instinctively realized it wasn’t the stranger’s words that had hushed the crowd—but the person who had spoken them.

Who could command such stillness with just a voice?

There was only one person in the entire Godwin territory with that kind of influence.

The former Duke of Godwin.

Under the chandelier’s light, the violet irises were clearly visible. They were wide with shock.

“You, you are…”

The end of his lips quivered, his mustache trembling.

To think the former Duke could show such a shaken expression.

It was not the same face he had worn when he first saw Harris.

Back then, it was a face filled with caution, alarm, fear, and buried guilt. But now…

“It’s been a while, Your Grace.”

A pale hand emerged from the robe and pulled back the hood.

Waves of silvery-gray hair shimmered under the chandelier.

Clear violet eyes, eyes sharply slanted with an air of fierceness.

A proud nose bridge and a strong, angular jawline.

“…”

Harris felt everyone’s attention shift toward her, instinctively.

Not because she was a stately beauty—but because her features so strongly resembled someone burned into his memory.

“Irene…”

The former Duke uttered the name through trembling lips.

“L-Lady Irene?!”

“My god, it’s really her?”

“If she’s Lady Irene, then she’s the rightful heir to the duchy!”

A ripple surged through the ballroom. The very flow that had dominated the space now tilted in her direction.

It was inevitable.

“My lady, have you returned at last?”

The one who had originally been chosen to become the heir of the Godwin family—was none other than Lady Irene.

It was only because the disowned Norman Godwin colluded with the Imperial Family that she had been robbed of her position. And then…

“The Marquess of Rayere’s family…”

They had unilaterally sent their mistress to be the lady of another house.

The former Duke placed a hand to his forehead, not wanting to reveal the storm of emotions flickering in his eyes.

That day was still fresh in his mind.

“Lady Irene is known far and wide for her wisdom and grace. We intend to wed her to the second son of House Rayere. Do not defy this decree.”

A sudden order from the emperor, after Norman had stolen the title.

He had no choice but to comply. Already accused of treason for refusing to recognize Norman as Duke, he couldn’t take further risks.

“No, Irene!”
“…It’s His Majesty’s command, Father.”
“To give you such a proposal is beneath your status! We can protect you!”

But the former Duke had tried to resist until the very end.

House Rayere was one of the Empire’s three great noble families, just like Godwin.

Even so, Irene was the rightful heir to Godwin.

And they wanted to marry her not to the firstborn, but to the second son?

“The second son of Rayere…!”

The second son, Prince Orsia, was known as the “Butterfly Prince.”

Delicate as a butterfly, flitting from flower to flower, a beautiful noble who belonged to no one.

In other words—a frivolous, unprincipled playboy.

It was practically a running joke in the capital that scandals followed him whenever he visited.

“I can never accept this! Never! I sent Alicia to keep you safe, and now—!”
“Father.”
“Even if it leads to war, I will not back down. That bastard Norman—!”
“Your Grace.”

The former Duke had roared with rage, feeling as if his heart would burst.

He would rather die than let his only daughter waste her life on such a man.

But…

“I have not lived to be protected by House Godwin.”
“…Irene.”
“Please do not disgrace me, Your Grace. You are still the sovereign of House Godwin.”

And with that, Lady Irene had left, head held high. She departed to far-off Rayere, bearing the imperial dowry with her.

“Rayere is doing just fine.”

Now, years later, Irene returned—her face untouched by time, save for the faintest crow’s feet.

“This was all agreed upon before the marriage.”

“Ahh…!”

There was no problem now—Lady Irene had returned.

The old Godwin loyalists wiped tears from their eyes. For she had always been the one they had truly wanted to follow.

“You’ve finally returned!”

“When rumors spread that a plague had struck Rayere, I was so worried.”

“Oh, please, that was ages ago. Rayere is thriving now.”

“All thanks to Lady Irene, of course. Even in Rayere, she is the subject of endless admiration…”

Her fervent supporters rallied behind her with a newfound confidence—so different from the aggression they had shown Harris earlier.

“…”

Even Sir Parnell, who had sworn loyalty to Harris, and Count Leddian’s family, who once aligned with the former Duke, were speechless.

It was inevitable. Just like the Duke, they were still reeling from the bombshell of Lady Irene’s return.

Of course, Harris thought coldly.

They had only bowed to him because they couldn’t accept the former Duke’s decline and hoped someone would carry on his legacy.

He had never expected much from them to begin with.

“…There is one more reason why that man should not become the heir of House Godwin!”

That was when Count Artu stepped forward.

Everyone’s eyes fell on him, but he didn’t have time to care.

Damn it. So this was the “right time” they mentioned?

He had received the confidential information—meant to prevent Harris from reclaiming his rights—just before dawn.

The timing for when to reveal it had been vague: “You’ll know when the time comes.”

Lady Irene…!

Once, Count Artu had also supported her.

Though now allied with Norman Godwin for the sake of personal ambition and family honor, he couldn’t help but be overwhelmed by Lady Irene’s presence and dignity.

My daughter, competing against Lady Irene’s legacy for the title of heir? That’s impossible.

Ambition or not, some things were simply beyond reach.

If it were Norman’s bastard son like Harris, maybe. But Irene?

It can’t be helped now.

Count Artu clenched his teeth and pushed the person standing behind him forward.

“My daughter holds the proof!”

“…!”

“Count Artu’s daughter? Lady Penelope?”

“What is she doing here? Wasn’t she—?”

“Yes, I was imprisoned,” Penelope said, eyes brimming with tears.

“Falsely accused!”

Clad in a worn dress, her body trembling, she looked every bit the noble lady who had suffered great hardship.

“Falsely accused?!”

“Yes! They claimed I smuggled an unlicensed esper into the capital and endangered everyone. But…”

Tears streamed down her face as Penelope cried pitifully.

“That’s impossible! Bona was my personal maid. Why would I keep a dangerous esper with no Guide by my side?!”

“Well, when you put it that way…”

One of the opposition nodded.

“She was accused without even a proper scan. It was all so sudden. And then—”

“But she did draw her sword to attack! If she wasn’t an esper, why—?!”

Leddian’s faction managed to regain composure and push back.

“Now, now, let’s not confuse the issues!”

But the tide had already turned.

“And who exactly did she hurt? Isn’t the charge Your Grace gave her a bit too severe?”

“Viscount Mirsil!”

“What, you calling me out? What did I say that’s wrong?!”

The ballroom had spiraled into chaos.

The former Duke was frozen by Irene’s return, and even those who could have taken charge were scattered in confusion.

Shouts, arguments, flushed faces…

…I see.

Harris, one step removed from the frenzy, observed quietly.

Now that the Bona incident had been muddied, determining right from wrong would be nearly impossible.

“…There’s no proof she wasn’t an esper!”

And just like that—

“There’s no proof she was, either!”

“If you want to be technical about it, we can just scan—”

“No.”

Count Artu wrapped his arms protectively around his daughter and spoke with anguish.

“We tried to scan her, but by the time we arrived at the prison…”

“Bona was already a corpse!”

Penelope wept openly, pointing a trembling finger.

“She died because of that horrible monster—!!”

All eyes turned to the accused—Harris—who stood quietly, gazing at them.

Perhaps because of the renewed silence, he could almost hear the former Duke’s voice ringing in his ears:

“Tomorrow will be your day, Harris.”

He had never expected much. He didn’t believe things would go smoothly.

“It’s the day we announce to the world that you are the heir of House Godwin.”

But he hadn’t expected it to turn into a circus, either.

“She was lying cold and dead in that cell…”

“Oh, Lady Penelope. To witness something so tragic…”

Voices filled with feigned sympathy. A fog of hostility and hatred surrounding him.

The past—his past at the Godwin estate—overlapped with the present.

The people around him. The murmuring. The stares of shock and disgust. The accusing fingers…

“Monster.”
“If only it weren’t for you—!”

Echoes of fear, resentment, and hatred.

Then Harris realized—someone was holding his hand.

A pair of blue eyes, shining like stars, looked up at him.

“…Lord Harris.”

Why is it always you in these moments, Jade?

Jade, who had been watching him, now stepped forward.

Will he say, “Even if I killed her, so what? I’m the heir of House Godwin”?

In a daze, Harris wondered if that would be the way to fight back.

“My Lord Harris couldn’t possibly have killed her!”

“…!”

Harris’s red eyes widened, and even his lips parted slightly.

Why? Why are you so certain?

Everyone else was pointing at him, calling him a murderer—so why are you…?

“Ha! You’re his Guide, and now you’re defending him? What difference does it make—”

“Even if you’re going to lie, at least say it right! There’s no way our Lord Harris would have killed her already!”

“…?”

Already?

Even the opposition, ready to object, faltered at the unexpected phrasing.

Not “he wouldn’t have killed her”—but “he wouldn’t have killed her already”?