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Chapter: 16
Treon looked over the progress marks left behind by the previous tutor and let out a sigh of admiration.
“Remarkable, Your Grace. To think you’ve already advanced this far in Imperial History while I was away.”
An ordinary ten-year-old would have been beside themselves with pride at such praise, but Luss remained indifferent, his expression unchanged.
To others, it might have seemed unsettlingly unchildlike, but to Treon, it was the posture of a true ruler.
A true sovereign does not rise and fall with every word of praise, but restrains their emotions and maintains their dignity.
Treon had been busy assisting the late duke, and it had only been about two months since he began closely overseeing Luss’s studies.
In that time, Luss had shown exceptional aptitude and an astonishing learning speed.
“Then today, we shall study the achievements of Emperor Cuser. Emperor Cuser was the thirteenth emperor of the Empire—”
Treon’s lessons were strict, but Luss followed them without complaint.
When the lesson finally ended, Treon hesitated before speaking carefully.
“Your Grace. There is something I must say regarding the Duchess.”
“What is it?”
At the mention of Pellia, a glint of emotion appeared in Luss’s eyes for the first time.
“Are you aware that Her Grace is currently managing the duchy’s finances?”
“Yes.”
“And that you entrusted her with that authority?”
“So?”
“I ask that you reclaim that authority.”
“…What?”
Luss frowned.
Sensing his anger, Treon hurriedly continued.
“The current state of the family is precarious. If someone were to attempt to swallow us whole, we would be powerless to resist. I have looked into it, and Her Grace’s recent actions are suspicious. She uncovered Frug’s embezzlement shortly after arriving, and instantly saw through the fraud of Marquis Reholas. There must be another house backing her. If this continues, the duchy will inevitably be consumed by the family supporting her.”
It was a situation worthy of suspicion.
Treon was certain Luss would follow his advice.
But Luss’s reply was the complete opposite of what he expected.
“So what?”
“…Pardon?”
Had he explained it poorly?
Flustered, Treon repeated himself.
“I mean that at this rate, the family backing Her Grace will seize the Valfruga Duchy—”
“I know. You’re saying the family behind my sister might take everything from this duchy.”
So he had understood.
“Yes, exactly! The true master of the duchy is you, Your Grace. Therefore—”
“I don’t care.”
“…What?”
For someone usually so levelheaded, Treon couldn’t believe how many foolish things he had heard today.
Luss spoke clearly.
“I don’t care if my sister takes the Valfruga Duchy. Whether it’s her or the family backing her. If that’s what she wants, I’m fine with it.”
“Your Grace! Please reconsider! If you allow this to happen, the Valfruga family will end here—completely vanish in your generation!”
It was absurd.
What kind of head of house would stand idle while their family was being taken?
Luss looked at Treon with icy eyes.
Though he was far smaller in stature, Treon felt as if Luss were looking down on him.
“Do you think I’m too young to understand the situation?”
“……”
“I know exactly what this family means, and the weight of the title of duke that I bear. And I also know that if the head of the family makes a decision, you are obligated to obey it.”
Treon realized then—
Luss understood everything perfectly.
And yet, he had still made this choice.
“My sister isn’t someone who would steal this family. But even if she did—if she truly tore it apart and sold it piece by piece—I would still support her decision.”
“Your Grace! Have you lost your mind?!”
Treon screamed.
“Lost my mind?”
Luss let out a small, bitter laugh.
In his despair, Treon felt a chill run through him.
This was the arrogant, overwhelming ruler he had always wished to see in his lord.
Just not in a situation like this.
“Then I suppose I’m mad about her. If my sister wants it, I’d gladly wrap up this pathetic family with my own hands and give it to her. After all, both I and this family only exist because she saved us.”
Treon was completely overwhelmed.
But Luss wasn’t finished.
“More importantly, Butler.”
The pen in Luss’s hand spun lazily.
“I find a butler who tries to drive a wedge between the duke and his wife far more suspicious. Don’t you?”
“……”
The pen’s tip pointed directly at Treon.
It was nothing more than an ordinary pen in a child’s hand, yet Treon felt as though a sword were pressed against his throat.
“If you try to harm my wife, I’ll stop you—even if I have to kill you.”
It sounded like a threat, but Luss was desperate.
Raised by indifferent parents, Luss had slowly withered away in a cold castle.
His wife was strong, beautiful, and admirable.
But he was young, weak—little more than baggage.
If a mere butler upset her and caused her to leave…
If Pellia ever said she wanted to leave him, Luss had no way to stop her.
“You no longer need to attend my lessons. And if you intend to keep thinking this way, leave the castle.”
With that, Luss saw no need to continue the conversation.
Treon grabbed Luss’s arm as he passed, but Luss coldly shook him off.
Only Treon remained in the room.
* * *
“This… this is absolutely ridiculous…”
Treon rolled across the floor, clutching a bottle of liquor.
“Nooo… I was trying… to save this family… hic… damn it…”
The strong stench of alcohol and his flushed face showed just how drunk he was.
Butcher kicked Treon irritably.
If he was going to get drunk, why couldn’t he sleep in his own room instead of causing trouble in someone else’s?
“Hey. You’re annoying. Go sleep in your room.”
“It doesn’t make sense… Why…? His Grace says he’ll sell the family… Does that make any sense…?”
“What? Sell the family? To who?”
When Butcher asked in shock, Treon sobbed out an answer.
“To the Duchess! Hic… hehehe…”
“Oh. That’s it? You scared me for nothing. If it’s to Her Grace, then… Wait, she’s already the Duchess. Can you even sell a family to her? Does she become the duke?”
“What—are you taking her side too?!”
Treon pointed at Butcher.
“So what if I am? She’s our lady too. What’s wrong with siding with her?”
“She’s the Duchess…! Not the Duke…!”
“What are you even saying?”
Butcher scratched his ear.
This was why drunkards were such a pain.
“She can’t… She can’t… If she eats up the entire duchy… then what are we supposed to do?!”
Butcher answered without hesitation.
“Seems fine to me. She’s doing great already.”
“Hey!”
“Oh, what?!”
Butcher shouted back just as loudly.
“You should be on my side, you bastard…!”
Butcher looked down at Treon with pity.
Treon clung to his leg, sobbing.
Sober, he was competent—annoying, but reliable. Drunk, he was a complete nuisance.
Still, they had been together for a long time.
Out of old loyalty, Butcher spoke.
“Hey, Treon.”
“Whaaat…”
“Stop suspecting Her Grace. If there was something wrong with her, I would’ve noticed.”
Butcher’s voice was unusually serious.
“Isn’t it suspicious…? She just figures out fraud so easily and all that…”
“You little—!”
Butcher kicked Treon hard.
“Who said it was easy?! Do you know how much she suffered?! Whoever committed the fraud is the real spy! Do you have any idea how much she ran around with that frail body, or how many nights she stayed awake?!”
The more he spoke, the angrier he became.
This time, he kicked Treon with the other foot.
“Ugh…”
Treon couldn’t even resist as he rolled across the floor.
“You didn’t see it, that’s why! Everyone in this castle knows how hard Her Grace works and how much she cares about this place! Do you think everyone here is an idiot?!”
Butcher had seen it all.
At three in the morning, when everyone else was asleep, Her Grace forcing her eyes open while reviewing documents.
Before meeting the Fox Merchant Guild, rehearsing over and over with Naol until dawn, afraid of making a mistake.
Before dealing with Marquis Reholas, clinging to His Grace for a long time because her trembling wouldn’t stop.
After seeing all that, how could anyone doubt her?
“If you’d ever truly looked at Her Grace even once, you’d be too ashamed to say things like that.”
Treon stared silently at the ceiling.
“I get your position, but drop your prejudice and actually look—properly look—at who she is. And if you still don’t trust her after that, then come to me.”
Butcher raised his fist.
“Because then it just means something’s wrong with your head, and I’ll fix it for you out of old friendship.”
“Look properly…”
That was easier said than done.
But Treon loved this castle, and he loved this family.
If everyone spoke with one voice, then as a butler, it was his duty to reconsider.
* * *
The next day, Treon woke up on the cold floor.
Butcher had really left him there all night.
Barely opening his eyes, Treon was practically chased out and made his way to the dining hall.
By then, word must have spread—this time, the maid wouldn’t even meet his eyes as she served breakfast.
“Hmph!”
She slammed the dish down so hard that the soup splashed everywhere.
There wasn’t even a single solid ingredient in it.
Treon felt a bit miserable.
“Is this also the Duchess’s doing…?”
After eating, Treon headed to the study.
He waited for a long time, but Luss truly did not come.
“…I suppose I must apologize to His Grace.”
He never imagined the duke would actually refuse further lessons.
From the duke onward, the entire castle was enamored with the Duchess.
Yes. With this level of trust and affection, she must truly be someone special.
Just then—
As Treon left the study alone, he caught sight of the ducal couple.
