🔊 TTS Settings
Chapter 44
The reason they had opposed the triumphal ceremony so vehemently was exactly that.
If Kirzen were to seize power, he would never let those who had turned their backs on him off so easily.
That was why leading the triumphal procession carried such enormous impact.
“What should we do now? Since the triumph has been approved, the Duke won’t need to watch his step anymore.”
At present, Kirzen’s succession to his ducal seat was not yet fully legitimized.
For high nobility, one had to undergo a formal coming-of-age ceremony and receive the king’s approval before their name could be inscribed in the noble registry.
And without a guardian’s permission, even the coming-of-age ceremony could not be held.
Judging by the positions of Count Monteiro and Duke Ditrio, it was nearly impossible.
Thus, from the vassals’ point of view, supporting the Count seemed the path to preserving the family’s peace.
It was easier on their consciences, too.
After all, with incomplete succession, the heir had little real authority.
It was a hollow title.
But there was one exception—one could receive the king’s approval without a coming-of-age ceremony: a triumphant general who led a victory parade.
The merits won in war served as recognition of their service.
After the deaths of his parents, the late duke and duchess, the relatively unknown Duke Ditrio entered the capital as a war hero and held such a triumph.
How would this look in the eyes of the people of the kingdom?
How would the nobility shift in response?
And what profits could Kirzen reap from it?
It was the very moment when all those malicious, fearmongering rumors spread against him became worthless.
So the vassals could not help but waver.
“From now on, we must stand in the right line.”
Between Roiden and Kirzen.
Between Count Monteiro and Duke Ditrio, the choice they made would determine their future.
They stood at a crossroads.
“Ahem. Things have come to this… seems there’s no choice. We should at least make a hefty donation.”
“I agree. Since the triumph has been set, we can only follow for now.”
At their weighing and hedging, Roiden wore a cold smile.
Those men will have to be cut away.
Those who only moved for their own safety would betray again one day.
There was no need to take them along his path.
Roiden spoke calmly.
“If the Duke doesn’t watch his step, then we’ll just make him. I have other matters to attend to, so I’ll take my leave. And it seems those who share my intent are already decided.”
He was telling them the gathering was over.
He had no wish to continue such a fruitless meeting.
Some vassals who had been wavering between the two sides looked embarrassed, as if their true feelings had been exposed.
When Roiden rose to leave, others belatedly weighing their options hurried to follow him.
But a scar-faced man stepped in their way.
“How dare you block our path? Step aside!”
“You’re making a mistake. Did the Count tell you to stop us?”
The vassals, their eyes still on the departing Roiden, scolded the man.
But he ignored them completely.
He only relayed the message he had been given.
“The Count’s words: he doesn’t want this to come to blows, so he expects you to judge wisely.”
With that, the man followed after Roiden.
Roiden later arranged a separate meeting at the ducal residence in the capital.
The triumph could no longer be undone—so other countermeasures had to be made.
Only one thing troubled him: the actions of Marquis Chase.
I can’t read his intent.
Why had he gone so far as to declare a donation?
Unable to grasp the motive, Roiden felt a headache coming on.
If the marquis were trying to win over the people of Genova, there was something that didn’t quite sit right.
As Roiden was massaging his temples, the guest he had invited announced his arrival.
“Come in.”
At his permission, the guest entered.
It was Viscount Yabihel, who had recently revived his family quickly through illicit businesses.
Instead of a greeting, Yabihel bowed and asked,
“I heard the news. The triumph is to proceed, is it not?”
Roiden replied in an irritated tone.
“That’s not all. The sycophancy has already begun.”
“Perhaps they lack discernment. Rotten rope must have looked like gold to them.”
“Tch. I’ll be cleaning things up soon. Stay quiet until then.”
He was warning him to act cautiously.
Yabihel nodded respectfully.
Roiden asked, as if confirming,
“How is that matter progressing?”
“As you instructed, I’ve redirected all the bonds under my name.”
“No problems?”
“Viscount Zolta protested, and a few places were unsettled, but there should be no issues with the process.”
“Good. Finish it before that man sets foot in the capital.”
“But… will this method really work? It benefits me greatly, of course, but still…”
At that moment, the scar-faced man cut in.
“It will work.”
The same man who had blocked the vassals earlier.
“Do you have proof?” Yabihel asked skeptically.
The scarred man smirked and said,
“I bribed someone for information. Seems he still hasn’t forgotten that woman—there are traces of his involvement in those rumors.”
“You mean the Duke has feelings for her?”
“Yes. Likely cherishes her deeply. Deep enough to skulk in the shadows to meddle.”
As he spoke, the man ran a hand lightly across the scar on his face.
The throbbing pain kept the memory of that day alive.
Heinkel Marcus.
The man who had once driven him to the brink of death.
Raul longed for the day they would meet again.
And so, the day finally arrived.
Emelina looked at the invitation stamped with the royal seal in dismay.
I can’t exactly burn this…
The victory ball in honor of Duke Ditrio.
It was to be held the day after the triumph, with attendance required for every noble in the capital.
For Emelina, who desperately wished to avoid meeting Kirzen, it was the last place she wanted to be.
The possibility was small, but still there.
Fate could tangle in unexpected ways—better to block it in advance if possible.
“Sigh…”
“You really don’t want to go, do you?”
“No… must I really attend?”
Looking tearful, Emelina turned to Katie.
Perhaps her mother would understand her feelings.
But Katie only smiled wryly, cutting off her hope.
“If nothing else comes up, then yes, you must.”
“Because it’s a royal command?”
“That’s right.”
“What if… we just moved away? To where Father works. Living in the capital is uncomfortable anyway.”
The contract with Merlin had been completed; she no longer needed to act directly.
So leaving the capital didn’t seem like such a bad idea to Emelina.
Of course, there were still many matters left unresolved.
But she could handle those during visits to the capital—so it didn’t feel like a big problem.
Katie, however, was firm.
“All of this is for your sake. Once you leave the capital, it’s not easy to return.”
That was the life of nobility.
Even with an empty title, appearances mattered.
Abandoning the capital’s social circles was no small thing.
But what good was any of that?
Living in the capital didn’t make all nobles equal.
Why else would they divide “central society” from the rest and ostracize others?
Emelina had no intention of joining in their lofty cliques.
“Mother, I don’t care about society. I just want to live doing what I love, as I do now.”
“You might not care, but what about your children one day? Are you so sure they’ll think the same?”
“Isn’t that too far ahead? I’m not even married yet…”
“When the time comes and you’re absent, that absence itself will become your regret.”
In other words, she had no choice.
No matter how Emelina begged, Katie would not change her mind.
She had no option but to give up persuading her mother.
There was still about a month until the ball… in the meantime, she would just have to find another way.
Pushing aside her worries, Emelina forced herself to think hopefully.
As the day of the ball drew closer, Emelina busied herself with avoiding reality.
There was simply no way out otherwise.
Unless some unavoidable misfortune arose, she was trapped into attending.
As a result, she buried herself even deeper in her work.
“Aren’t you pushing yourself too hard these days?”
Merlin asked worriedly, and Emelina lifted her gaze.
“I’m not. This is what I want to do. And I have plenty of reason to work hard…”
Lately, she had been visiting Pirre Confectionery daily to pour her efforts into researching new menus.
Work let her forget the things she didn’t want to think about, if only briefly.
But the greatest problem was the debt that grew heavier with every breath.
Emelina had been using all of Merlin’s contract money and the profits from chocolate sales to repay it.
Yet the debt showed no sign of shrinking—worse, it was climbing steeply, strangling Baron Klein’s household.
Some loan sharks were even bold enough to come directly to the mansion.
They didn’t hesitate to use thuggish methods in their demands.
The danger forced Emelina to cling ever harder to her work.
“And what about the rumors? Have they been taken care of?”
“They have. A noble even accompanied the safety inspections.”
“And they accepted the results?”
“Of course not. But my regular customer was skilled enough to settle it with ease.”
Merlin smiled meaningfully as she said this.
