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CHAPTER~13
In the northern territory of Northskal, where icy snowstorms raged day and night throughout every season, the endless snowfields stretched so far that the sky and earth blended into one.
Even during the day, the sun scattered only a faint, dim light.
It had always been a barren, desolate land where nights were longer than days.
Lately, however, the North had been shrouded in an unusually deep darkness that seemed to have no end.
“It has already been several years since the Red Moon last appeared.
With each passing day, the power of House Decart grows weaker.
And that’s not all.
The continuous blizzards have caused our crops and vegetation to wither away.
If this continues, House Decart may lose the authority our previous Dukes built over generations!”
“Exactly!”
Inside the grand conference hall of the main estate, the elders and the heads of the vassal families passionately voiced their opinions.
The sole topic of today’s meeting was, without question, the disappearance of the Red Moon.
House Decart was the family that had produced the Aberk Empire’s very first Sword Master.
It was also the house of the legendary war hero who had risen during an age of chaos.
Yet behind those glorious titles, the reality of House Decart was far from bright.
“Isn’t it obvious that this is the curse?
The deity who blesses House Decart once declared that harmony between husband and wife is of the utmost importance.”
The moment one elder mentioned the word curse, the conference hall erupted into murmurs.
Several people coughed awkwardly, clearly uncomfortable.
“I believe it truly is the curse.
What else could explain all of this?”
“I couldn’t agree more.”
Quite a few nodded in agreement.
Amid the heated discussion, however, one man remained completely detached.
Frezen Decart.
“…”
Since yesterday, he hadn’t had a single moment to rest.
He had only attended today’s family council because they had repeatedly begged him to come.
But the discussions were always the same.
He couldn’t help finding them tedious.
More importantly, his thoughts were completely occupied by his conversations with Mela.
“N-No… not Mom…
Aunt Evlyen didn’t do anything wrong!
It’s all because I got sick…”
Mela had definitely called Evlyen “Mom.”
Judging by the way she’d hurriedly corrected herself afterward, she clearly wasn’t allowed to call her mother “Mom.”
Ah…
What a heartbreaking situation.
“Duke Mister…
Please…
You have to protect Auntie.”
She had even entrusted her precious aunt to him.
How could a child barely five years old be so mature?
“…I’m not in any position to receive Your Grace’s help.
Still, thank you for your kindness.”
That was undoubtedly the result of Evlyen’s upbringing.
She had always been a resolute woman.
She must have raised Mela wisely enough that the child never felt the absence of a father.
Even after forcing himself to stop thinking about it, he could still feel the soft warmth of Mela’s little body against his shoulder and neck.
Once this meeting ends…
I’ll find some excuse to see them again.
Just then—
“This is exactly why one must be careful when bringing outsiders into the family.
If you ask me, everything went wrong from the very beginning.
The moment a daughter from such an insignificant family was welcomed as the Duchess of House Decart.”
Someone’s voice pierced sharply through Frezen’s thoughts.
The conference hall instantly fell silent.
“Why is everyone looking at me like that?
I’m not wrong.
There has never been a divorce in the entire history of House Decart.
After that divorce, our family’s decline began!”
“Even so…
His Grace is present.
Those words are inappropriate…”
“I haven’t said anything I shouldn’t.
His Grace also deserves to know the true cause of all this.”
The elders immediately divided into opposing sides.
Listening to them, Frezen’s expression darkened further.
‘Surely you weren’t completely unaware of what your family did to House Leella?’
‘Knowing only half the story isn’t enough.
It was truly despicable.
If I were her, I’d have grown sick of them too.’
Mikhail’s words resurfaced in his mind.
A bitter smile crossed Frezen’s lips.
Who were the Decart Council of Elders?
People who rejected the arrival of a new generation under the pretext of preserving the family’s bloodline and history.
Their influence within House Decart was enormous.
Even his father, the previous Duke, had been unable to openly oppose them.
Perhaps…
That was why Evlyen had ultimately left him.
“From the very beginning, bringing in the daughter of an insignificant family who possessed no remarkable ability—!”
Bang!
Frezen slammed his fist onto the podium.
The impact was so tremendous that cracks spread across its surface.
Silence instantly consumed the room.
Everyone stared at him in fear.
“I now understand the elders’ opinions perfectly.
It seems your disgraceful habit of speaking ill of those who aren’t even present hasn’t changed.”
“Your Grace!
Those words go too far!
We’re only acting for the prosperity of House Decart—”
“If you truly cared about this family, would you still be sitting around this table talking endlessly while remaining blind to what’s happening outside?”
His words struck like blades.
The elders could not hide their displeasure.
Even the heads of the vassal families only exchanged nervous glances.
“Are you saying people who claim to serve this family should drive away a nursemaid who devoted thirty years of her life to House Decart?”
“That woman wasn’t dismissed simply because we disliked her!
There were valid reasons!
Your Grace knows that as well!”
Frezen couldn’t have been more dumbfounded.
His already sharp eyes grew even colder.
“You simply created those reasons yourselves.
After all, you were equally determined to drive out the former Duchess.”
At last…
Evlyen was mentioned.
The elders immediately erupted in outrage.
Watching them loudly defend themselves while refusing to acknowledge any fault of their own was both pathetic and disgraceful.
The argument reached its peak.
Then, after someone deliberately cleared his throat, the hall gradually quieted.
“Then, Your Grace…
Do you happen to have a solution?
Perhaps we can only engage in idle discussion, but you appear to have something else in mind.”
The speaker was Julich Decart.
The most influential member of the Council of Elders.
And Frezen’s uncle.
“Ah…
Or perhaps…”
Julich smiled slyly.
“Why not take a new wife?
A Duchess worthy of House Decart.
Who knows?
Perhaps then even the deity will calm its anger.
Besides, Your Grace recently appeared on the front page of the Imperial Gazette.
Though admittedly…
The woman involved was rather unexpected.”
The conference hall erupted once again.
No one had dared utter the subject of remarriage since the divorce.
Frezen finally spoke.
“So, Uncle…
You’re suggesting I take another wife and beg the heavens for forgiveness.”
A quiet laugh escaped him.
So now I’m nothing more than a sacrifice.
Ordinarily, he would have rejected the proposal outright.
But today…
A curious thought crossed his mind.
A new wife…
The corner of his lips slowly curled upward.
“If that’s Uncle’s advice, then so be it.
After all, if it’s for the prosperity of House Decart, how could I possibly refuse?”
Every person in the conference hall stared at him in shock.
Feeling all eyes upon him, Frezen calmly continued.
“However…
From this moment onward, no one will interfere with anything I choose to do.
No one.”
Even if that person happened to be his own uncle.
With those final words, Frezen declared the meeting adjourned and walked out.
The long-awaited family council ended in complete disorder.
The moment Frezen returned to his office, his aide hurried over.
“What do you intend to do now, Your Grace?
Surely you aren’t actually planning to remarry?”
“Who knows?
If that’s the will of heaven, perhaps I should accept it.
I’m merely a servant of House Decart.
Any other news?”
Speaking as though the matter concerned someone else entirely, Frezen sat down behind his desk.
A mountain of paperwork awaited him.
“Yes.
Our search for the nursemaid has still yielded nothing.
We’ll report immediately once she’s found.
Also…
We’ve received a request for a business transaction from a merchant guild based in the capital.”
Seeing Frezen’s indifferent response, the aide wisely refrained from asking further questions.
“Handle it yourself.
Judging by the sound of it, it’s probably another abandoned mine negotiation.
Which merchant guild?”
“The Carencia Merchant Guild.
They mainly deal in general goods.
Still, just in case, I’ll go meet with them personally.”
“Very well.
Go ahead.”
The brief conversation ended, and Frezen returned to his documents.
Not long afterward, however, he suddenly stopped.
“Wait.
Carencia?”
The aide turned back.
“Yes.
Are you familiar with them, Your Grace?”
“Perhaps.
Or perhaps not.”
A strange expression crossed Frezen’s face.
He stared silently into space for a moment.
Then, as though realizing something, he abruptly rose to his feet.
A bright smile spread across his lips.
“I’ll handle this transaction myself.”
“Your Grace?
The guild is far too small for someone of your position.
Allow me to—”
“No.
It’s fine.”
Despite his aide’s protests, Frezen remained firm.
His face was filled with unmistakable anticipation.
“There’s someone I’ve been wanting to see.”
