IPBPBD 60🔐

chapter 60

If it weren’t for that, she wouldn’t even have been able to voice her own opinions. She would have been nothing more than a lady of the house, carrying only the title of “Duchess.” Completely powerless, constantly dismissed.

“Of course, I’m not one to just stand by and watch.”

After all, it wasn’t a marriage she had expected to happen, so Emilina had already endured a lot. She didn’t know what Kirzen thought about it.

In any case, there was a big difference between asking for permission and not asking. At least, she could say, “I did ask your opinion on this matter.”

When Emilina nodded slightly, signaling that she wanted an answer, Kirzen let out a small sigh and said,

“Then there’s only one answer. I do not wish for you to be the subject of ridicule, so I will handle the household management. Is there anything else you need? Something you desire…?”

He trailed off at the end, as if wanting to change the topic. Well, the atmosphere had become a bit too stiff anyway.

Emilina thought for a moment before speaking.

“I would like an etiquette instructor. I learned separately from my mother, but I’m still concerned.”

In the central social circles, there could be manners and customs unknown to her. Whether Kirzen understood her request was uncertain.

“Well, it doesn’t matter,” she thought. He would surely arrange it properly. That was the position of a duchess. At worst, he would invite someone from the central nobility.

“Very well. First, instruct Lokbel to prepare a recommendation list. I will be away, so you can consult with him and make the decision. Is there anything else you need?”

Kirzen asked again, confirming while looking almost eager to give her something. His expression betrayed a slight worry that she might refuse.

But Emilina’s answer was already decided.

“That will be sufficient.”

“……”

“By the way…”

Emilina paused briefly, then picked up her utensils.

“This conversation has gone on too long. We’ve skipped breakfast and must be hungry. How about we eat now?”

Kirzen looked momentarily surprised, as if hearing something unexpected. Her suggestion was essentially a signal to end the conversation and implied that no further questions would be entertained.

Which was true. They weren’t close enough for personal talk. And leaving carefully prepared dishes to grow cold would be impolite.

Although she wasn’t feeling entirely well, Emilina wanted to show appreciation for the chef’s efforts. She took a spoonful of soup, tasted it, then cut a small piece of steak. Kirzen reluctantly picked up his utensils, muttering in resignation,

“Very well….”

And so, the two of them ate separately, still unable to close the emotional distance between them. The only shared sound was the clatter of their cutlery, a faint proof that they were in the same space.

The Dietrio Ducal Mansion in the capital.

“How on earth did you handle this?!”

Count Monteiro’s furious shout filled the study.

Documents on the desk were torn to shreds, and shards of broken vases were scattered across the room. Decorations damaged by strong impacts were strewn everywhere. Judging from the state of the room, he had already vented his anger once.

Yet his fury was far from spent as he continued to glare at the pale man before him.

It was Viscount Yabihal, kneeling in front of Royden, begging for forgiveness.

“I-I personally confirmed it with my own eyes. There must be some mistake,” Yabihal said, sweating profusely and shifting his gaze.

“Mistake? What mistake are you talking about, hm?”

Yabihal’s mind raced for excuses. But Royden wasn’t someone who would accept a feeble excuse. Between Royden’s glaring eyes, restrained anger simmered just beneath the surface.

“Th-that… that is…”

Yabihal could not continue and tightly shut his eyes.

Things were going awry. The marriage registration, stamped by Baron Klein, had been submitted to the relevant authorities by Yabihal’s subordinates as instructed. He had even met the responsible official personally, as Royden had suggested, and confirmed the process. Everything had seemed perfect.

In a few days, he would have had a charming young woman at his disposal. It should have been ideal.

And yet…

“You still don’t understand. Do you still not know why I’m angry?”

It wasn’t the outcome. Yabihal’s subordinates who had intimidated Baron Klein had disappeared one by one, some found dead, and the documents had been swapped so that Dietrio’s name, not his, appeared on them.

“I… I will correct it if you tell me how,” Yabihal stammered.

Royden scoffed as if he’d heard nonsense.

“Viscount Yabihal, I don’t give chances twice. And why should I trust someone who cannot even identify the cause?”

He looked at Yabihal with pure contempt, as if the man were a disgusting insect. One of the things Royden despised most was someone with intellect who acted foolishly. And Yabihal was exactly that.

He thought Yabihal might be clever because of his money games, but he was utterly inept.

Yabihal failed to properly handle the task assigned to him. The result was nothing but negligence. Royden had warned him, instructed him not to act carelessly, to guard against any interference, and to see the matter through to avoid repercussions.

Yet, Yabihal did not complete the task, and his negligence allowed his nephew to intervene, derailing the entire plan. Royden was now in danger of being ousted from the mansion.

How the lowly nephew managed to swap the documents could be discovered in time, but the process no longer mattered. The current situation—the result—was what mattered.

“I should have suspected the moment he asked to handle the operation.”

Royden clicked his tongue in frustration and glared at the Viscount. If there was any fault on his part, it was misjudging the man.

He rubbed his furrowed brow, needing to plan anew and assess future strategies. There was nowhere left to retreat. Kirzen’s succession had shaken many things—the forces he controlled, the loyalists of the ducal house—all were ready to turn against him.

“Lowly bastard… how dare he!”

Royden slammed his desk in fury. Yabihal flinched but Royden didn’t care. His eyes burned red with rage.

“If you act like this, I have no choice but to go all the way. To the end.”

Better to die on the battlefield. That would have been a glorious death for such a base bloodline.

Still, Royden had to acknowledge one thing: the man’s resilience, worse than a cockroach. A lifetime of attempts on him had failed—poisonings, traps, assassins. Countless efforts.

But the past was past. No matter the regret, what had happened could not be undone. Royden decided not to dwell on it.

He turned sharply to Yabihal and said,

“A man worse than a bug is of no use. Get lost. Don’t let me see you again, unless you want to end up like your subordinates.”

Royden gestured toward the door. It was a warning: leave immediately if he wanted to survive.

Yabihal hesitated, considering whether to plead for forgiveness. But he knew Monteiro’s power was formidable, and that Royden’s wrath was nothing to be trifled with. Ultimately, he quickly decided: his life was the most precious thing. After a brief hesitation, he stood and left the office.

But Yabihal overlooked one fact: Royden never said he would spare him. He had only warned him. Whether it was a warning or a death sentence, only Royden knew.

“These fools are all useless, that’s why things have come to this.”

“They did act recklessly, indeed.”

After Yabihal left, a man who had been hiding like a shadow appeared. A long scar ran diagonally across his face—it was Hainkel’s mark.

Raoul instinctively traced the symbol of humiliation and looked at his superior.

Royden glanced briefly at him and irritably said,

“Consider yourself lucky. I gave you an opportunity when I normally would not.”

“I am unworthy of such immense favor,” Raoul replied with a smirk.

“Shall we deal with him?”

Though the subject was omitted, Royden understood perfectly: he was asking whether to punish Yabihal for sabotaging the operation.

“Need I answer?”

Raoul laughed briefly, shrugging. It was unnecessary to speak. Yabihal had revealed too much by acting incompetently, and failing even at a dog’s job. Punishment was inevitable.

He probably thought it was over, but for Raoul, it was not. The dead had always been countless, and Yabihal was no exception.

Raoul thought for a moment. Perhaps his most dangerous knowledge was himself. Since he assisted Royden, nothing went through without his hands. He knew too much, including Royden’s hidden truths, like the assassination of Duke Dietrio.

Royden never left any loose ends, and Raoul had come to understand him fully. From the moment the scar was etched on his face, trust had crumbled. Royden would likely eliminate him given the chance. Raoul was just a tool, nothing more.

Thus, he prepared.

“Judging by the extra surveillance, he knows I have other intentions… but he hasn’t found a replacement yet, so he tolerates my hidden teeth,” Raoul thought, smiling faintly. He began to plan how to handle Yabihal and waited for Royden’s next command.

Royden spoke in a tone of displeasure.

“You know, don’t you? That bastard has started moving. He ordered the mansion cleared by the end of this week.”

“Hmm, that’s odd. Even if he inherited the duke title, he still has guardianship rights, doesn’t he? He can’t just oust the Count so easily.”

Raoul tilted his head, genuinely confused.

Royden ground his teeth.

“Yes, exactly. He couldn’t just remove me, unless the lowlifes weren’t more afraid of him than me.”

“Sounds like they complied without protest?” Raoul teased.

“Do I look like I’m joking?” Royden warned.

Raoul shrugged.

“They waited until I was absent. No one to watch, so they took the lead. Clever, using the head of the household’s authority like that.”

Royden gritted his teeth in genuine anger.

“Ah, authority. Makes sense. As head, he had the right to summon the retainers, so he called everyone except the Count under the guise of a meeting.”

“Exactly.”

“But still, I don’t understand. If the Count resisted, he could have held out much longer, right?”

The legitimacy could be manufactured, and there was no reason to yield. Despite Kirzen’s return splitting the family’s power, Royden’s influence was still greater. Even if Kirzen led the family council, Royden’s retainers held the advantage.

Royden clicked his tongue.

“Don’t you know there’s one exception?”

“Exception?”

“Yes. That bastard chose a lowborn woman as my wife, which ruined the family’s dignity. The audacity still makes my blood boil. That’s why I could not hold out.”

“Ah, you mean the ‘matter’ he caused this time.”

Raoul had anticipated it to some degree. Duke Dietrio’s affection for the Baroness meant Yabihal would try something, though not necessarily the immediate registration of marriage. The outcome was beyond expectation.

Monitoring Yabihal while keeping an eye on Kirzen, Raoul felt a bit exasperated upon hearing the results. Even so, the Duke had chosen a minor’s daughter—inevitably, there would be resistance. But with the swapped documents and royal approval, annulment was impossible. Divorce was the only recourse, and it would not be easy.

This marriage, properly executed, would never have been possible otherwise. The Duke likely acted preemptively, taking advantage of the situation.

“Now there’s even a lady to manage the household, so guardianship is irrelevant.”

The law of the family and aristocratic rules dictated it. With a legitimate spouse to assist, there was no reason for a guardian. Even without a coming-of-age ceremony, a formal acknowledgment sufficed. Royden had no reason to stay in the household.

Raoul finally nodded in understanding.

“So, for now, I’ll move the base to Viscount Zolta’s townhouse. Tsk, I don’t want to rely on that fool’s help, but he’s still useful for now.”

“Indeed. Viscount Zolta is a decent choice. Not as much as Viscount Yabihal, but ‘this’ is considerable.”

Raoul made a circle with his thumb and forefinger. Unspoken, but Zolta was bound, unable to resist. He was the one who secretly laundered war funds and transferred them to Genoa.