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Chapter 79
“So, you’re saying the Empress Dowager is still insisting that the Duke’s cause of death was the Tetrad antidote?”
Justin twisted his beard with a look of utter annoyance.
“That narrow-minded fool. Since nothing comes up even after raiding the Esta family, he has to resort to such petty tactics. He even changed the law to make an autopsy difficult? Ha! Since when have laws been passed so freely? The end times, truly the end times!”
Despite mocking how poorly the country was run, Justin didn’t forget to pat Letrisha on the back.
After all, the survival of the Esta family owed a lot to Letrisha’s extraordinary memory.
Caught in this unavoidable affection, the corners of Letrisha’s lips lifted.
“Why are you grinning like that again? Do you think everything’s fine just because I smile prettily? I’m still angry!”
“Raising your voice at your wife, sir?”
“My voice isn’t that loud!”
Justin’s lips protruded, intimidated by his adult nephew’s tone.
He then noticed Inyoung sitting quietly, muttering about telling Marsha everything once they returned, like a stuffed straw bag.
“But isn’t this the Godwin child? Is it really okay to bring this here?”
The object of Justin’s interest was Peter.
Peter, who had been imprisoned alongside Isis, had already been released and was now staying at a safe house.
“I had nowhere else to go… I escaped.”
At Peter’s cheerful answer, Justin spat out the tea he had just sipped.
“You… escaped?”
“Yes, I escaped. Since I grew up pampered, sleeping on a stone floor hurt my back too much. So, well… this happened.”
Justin gave Killian a look as if to ask whether he had really helped him escape.
“I just tossed him the key.”
“Oh dear.”
Justin grabbed the back of his neck as tension shot up his spine.
Peter’s curious eyes sparkled like stars as he looked at Justin.
“By the way, you’re Justin, right? My goodness, Nero… I never thought I’d see you again in my life. And yet, here you are, in good health, without ever showing yourself, master?”
“Still chattering as always, huh.”
Master?
Surprised by the unexpected title, Letrisha looked at Justin, silently asking for an explanation.
“Oh, well… I briefly chased Kendrick long ago, and I taught him a few sword techniques. Since then, he’s always called me that.”
“I didn’t know the Marquis had connections with my brother and uncle. And that he was close to my brother, even more so.”
Killian was just as surprised by the situation.
“Close… not exactly. Haha.”
Peter made a playful horizontal wrinkle across the bridge of his nose.
Justin’s gaze toward Peter was anything but gentle.
“So why is this child here? What if you run to the Empress Dowager and tell her everything?”
“Do I still look like a child to you?”
“…You’re insane.”
Peter giggled and flipped his palms in a gesture of surrender.
“No need to worry. I’m on your side. Oh, in case you didn’t know, I was the one who supplied the antidote to the capital this time.”
“Killian, is that true?”
Killian nodded once, answering without words.
“Relax, uncle. Peter Godwin is currently an essential asset to us.”
“He says so, master. I also have business at the estate, so at least until I officially hold the Duke title, I’m firmly on your side—don’t worry.”
The law passed by the Empress Dowager required the consent of all direct family members for a noble’s autopsy.
Patrick thought Tetrad left no trace, but that wasn’t true.
Even though those who ingested the raw Tetrad might appear to have died suddenly without any signs, the long half-life of the drug means traces could appear during an autopsy.
Moreover, the current body of Duke Godwin was frozen with a cooling spell, so if examined, it would be easy to prove that the cause of death wasn’t the antidote.
Peter had been insisting on this for a while, which made the Empress Dowager feel threatened and arbitrarily restrict the autopsy.
Even if Peter agreed, this law allowed them to refuse an autopsy through Patrick.
“Astara’s actions are typical. So, what’s the plan?”
“That’s right. I’m tired of dealing with this. Should we just break in and take the Duke’s body, or leave only one direct heir of the Godwin line alive?”
Neither option seemed particularly peaceful.
Peter wiped a bead of cold sweat from his brow.
“Haha. I don’t want to be part of a band of rebels. Maybe you should try convincing Patrick?”
“That would hardly work.”
Peter seemed to have nothing more to say and fell silent.
“How about the latter?”
“Get rid of Patrick? Your Highness, you’re more radical than you look.”
Peter’s eyes, usually driven by curiosity and entertainment, went wide. He traced his hand across his neck, sticking out his tongue playfully.
“…Not that, I meant, what if we excommunicate him?”
“Oh.”
Peter slammed his fist onto his palm.
“A peaceful method after all. But how?”
“Letrisha.”
Killian seemed worried she might do something reckless again and blocked her.
“I won’t get involved, Killian. Patrick is the kind of person who would jump into a pit of fire at the slightest provocation.”
“Provocation?”
“…How about shaking things up with Lady Loraz? I mean…”
While they were deep in discussion, suddenly, Killian’s transmitter—which had seemed useless—buzzed.
—Ah! It worked! It really connected!
Inside the small circle, the Northern palace family members were all huddled together.
—Lord, can you hear me? Letrisha has arrived safely too. Phew, now we can finally breathe a bit.
“Mark?”
Killian’s perfectly angled brows twitched as he brought up the transmitter.
“How did you manage to activate it when communication with the North was impossible due to magic interference?”
—Then it must have been the Empress Dowager’s doing. I used the transmitter she was carrying just in case, and it connected.
Mark pointed the transmitter at the struggling shadow knight, who was gagged.
The knight looked worse for wear, probably from Mark’s constant poking.
“Is that him? How dare he step into the castle without my permission?”
“Yes. How shall we deal with him?”
Mark looked like he wanted to dismantle the intruder joint by joint with just Killian’s nod.
It reminded Killian of Marsha wielding a broom or Gorten with a staff from behind.
Despite the bruised, mottled face, Killian calmly said to the still-threatening knight,
“Break his limbs, cut him up, or whatever you want—but keep him alive. Until I get there.”
Though the moonlight made the face seem holy, his words were ominous.
“Phew.”
A hazy smoke escaped Patrick’s lips.
Unaware that a move was underway to expel him from the Godwin lineage, Patrick comfortably occupied the Duke’s office, puffing deeply on his cigar.
He held a daily gossip magazine.
Just as he finished reading the first page and was about to turn it, he heard scuffling and angry voices at the door.
“Let go! Don’t you know who I am? Patrick, I’m here! Aren’t you coming out?”
Peter’s glasses reflected his eyes, which stared at the door in disbelief.
“Here she comes again. Doesn’t she ever get tired?”
Click. Patrick lit a new cigar and lazily rang the bell, signaling to open the door.
As if waiting for that, Lorazne barged in.
“Welcome, Rose.”
“Patrick! What’s with you staying at the mansion without contacting me? Didn’t you want to see me?”
A red veil fluttered over Lorazne’s rushed face.
Even diluted poison had taken its toll over time. Her once-smooth skin had become dry and cracked, and her abundant, rose-petal-like hair had thinned.
“Patrick, my father said something strange. Is it true?”
“What did our beautiful Rose hear to be like this?”
“An arranged marriage! He keeps saying you’re going to marry Lady Fernado, but that’s nonsense, right?”
“Ah.”
Patrick drew in the cigar smoke again and exhaled it at Rose.
A clear smile graced his angelic face.
“My father knows correctly. Yes, I will marry Lady Fernado.”
