Chapter 17

“There’s been some trouble at House Saulliren, where I’m staying. So I came to the estate for a while to assist the lady of the house…”

“Saulliren?”

The mention of that name slightly eased Van’s anger.

“Yes.”

“What happened?”

House Saulliren had long served the Grand Duke’s household. It was only natural Van would take an interest.

“…The Madam is unwell.”

Because she wasn’t confident in lying outright, Elena tried to gloss it over with vague wording. But worried he’d reject her leave without a specific reason, she racked her brain and added more.

Please… don’t ask anything else.

If Van began probing in detail, the truth would surely come out.

“I see. I’ll allow it.”

“Thank you.”

Elena gave a polite bow, quietly letting out a sigh of relief. As she turned to leave the office, Van unexpectedly opened his mouth again.

“But…”

The faint strain in his voice made Elena pause and turn back toward him.

“I’ll extend your term as aide to make up for the time off.”

So he was granting her leave, but she’d have to work extra later. A new kind of punishment, it seemed.

But it wasn’t something she could refuse, so Elena nodded and replied, “Understood.”

* * *

Andymion Joffin, the only daughter of one of Valra’s two eastern frontier lords, Marquis Fiel Joffin, came to see Van. With hair dyed a striking, unnatural blue that looked as though it had been dipped in paint, she strutted around the Grand Duke’s estate as though it were her own.

“Your Grace, are you really not going?”

“That’s right.”

Van was spending rare time in his study. As he flipped through paperwork, Andymion lounged halfway across the sofa in the center of the room. Usually, someone like Quirea would scold her for such discourtesy, but with Quirea absent, there was no one to stop her.

“My father was worried about you, and now I see why.”

Her jet-black eyes narrowed. It had always bothered her how passive Van was.

This time was no different. Van might have been managing to keep the Marquis in check with official duties, but that alone wouldn’t solve the root of the problem. Now wasn’t the time to maintain a precarious balance. It was time to shatter it.

“We plan to send a few people to the ball. That way, we can see whom the Marquis is trying to sway, and if anyone new has joined his faction.”

“I’m aware.”

Van responded plainly, seeing right through her transparent attempt to coax him into attending.

“How about stopping by Serheim to visit the Crown Prince and attending Count Pirard’s ball while you’re there?”

Of course Van knew what she and her father wanted. After taking a brief breath, Andymion laid it out.

Everyone knew Van hated even the idea of being near the Marquis. Still, those loyal to Van, Andymion included, wanted him to take more initiative. They understood he was holding back because of Ranun, but even so.

In return, they’d done their best to protect Ranun. All they asked was that their Grand Duke trust them enough to take on the Marquis. That was why Marquis Joffin had sent Andymion.

Having known Van since childhood, Andymion was the ideal person to speak bluntly, too bluntly, in fact, for some. So it made sense she was the one to deliver the message directly.

“Once every two months is too long. Though I was glad to see Your Grace at the palace more recently. I’m sure the Marquis felt the pressure.”

They needed to show the Marquis faction that the royalists were still strong.

“It’s enough that your side is attending.”

“But since that day, the Marquis has been acting even bolder. That’s why I want Your Grace to go.”

Van knew exactly which day she meant. 

The day he regretted his decision more than anything. The day Tyrtan and the Hetz Knights, aided by the Marquis, assassinated King Dran Nizena.

“Andymion. Even you must know there are lines you cannot cross.”

Van’s voice dropped, heavy with restrained rage as he spat the words. No one was allowed to speak of that day, not even Andymion Joffin, who had been close to Dran since childhood.

House Vened had long served the Grand Duke’s family. For the king to be assassinated by a knight from a family like theirs, one Van and Dran had personally entrusted to the Hetz Order, was a disgrace to the crown.

Van had immediately issued a strict gag order. Fortunately, few had seen him at the palace that day, and with Masen also agreeing to keep silent, many nobles still didn’t know the truth.

“…Forgive me. I overstepped.”

Though she’d meant to provoke him, mentioning that incident was akin to blasphemy. Realizing her mistake, Andymion bowed deeply.

“My apologies, once again, to Your Grace, guardian of Valra.”

But even with her apology, Van’s killing intent did not subside. The oppressive energy made Andymion pale, nearly collapsing before Van finally reined it in.

“I’ll attend.”

“…Thank you, Your Grace.”

Whatever her method, Andymion had succeeded. She bowed deeply again in response to Van’s murmured agreement. No matter how they got there, they needed Van to act. Only then could they effectively check the arrogant Marquis faction.

Andymion’s trembling stilled. As the suffocating pressure lifted, she was finally able to look up at her lord again.

* * *

After spending some time with Ranun, Van departed for Count Pirard’s estate, accompanied by Heinen and Ridwan.

Count Pirard was a cousin of Marquis Masen. Perhaps that explained the sheer scale of the estate, enormous for a mere Count. It looked as if an absurd amount of money had been poured into the place, prompting Van to click his tongue. Then again, with the size of the embezzlement they’d committed, such opulence was to be expected.

“We’ll go straight in.”

“Yes, sir.”

As the carriage began to slow, Van gave the order, and Heinen passed it along to the driver to maintain speed. The guards looked startled by the unhesitating approach but, recognizing the banner and crest on the carriage, they quickly opened the gates.

Normally, the host, Count Pirard, should’ve greeted him after a guard’s check. But Van had no interest in such formalities. Ignoring the flustered onlookers, he marched straight into the ballroom.

“His Grace Van Nizena, Grand Duke and Guardian of the Kingdom of Valra, has arrived!”

The massive doors, taller than an average man by far, swung open as Van strode in. Draped in a heavy cloak over his gold-trimmed uniform, he looked every inch the ruler of the North.

The ballroom, which had been flowing along in peace, suddenly stirred with his arrival.

“Your Grace, what an honor to have you in such a humble place. Forgive me for not greeting you at the entrance. I hadn’t heard you were coming.”

“It’s fine. Though, as you said, it is rather humble.”

Count Pirard, pale with panic, rushed forward and bowed deeply.

“Haha, indeed. Compared to the Marquis’s splendid estate, this place is quite lacking.”

Whether he meant to provoke Van or not, he deliberately brought up Masen, though the comparison clearly didn’t apply.

“Yes, given how much of the treasury is being spent for the Marquis… it’s only natural his estate would be so ‘splendid’.”

“…Quite right.”

Van’s biting reply made Count Pirard twitch his Masen-esque mustache.

“Let me introduce my daughter. She’s been making quite a name for herself in society.”

“It’s an honor to meet Your Grace. I’m Larry Pirard, eldest daughter of Count Pirard.”

At her father’s signal, Larry stepped forward, lifted her skirts slightly, and gave a demure bow. To throw shade one moment and present his daughter the next? Van found it laughable, so much so he didn’t even bother responding properly and simply gave a slight nod.

“She just made her debut recently. We would’ve loved for Your Grace to attend. What a shame you couldn’t.”

“Indeed.”

Not wanting to continue the conversation, Van replied curtly and gave a dismissive shrug. He didn’t even glance at Larry, whose presence didn’t interest him in the slightest. Instead, he began scanning the crowd for the real reason he had come.

Everyone present was either aligned with the Marquis faction or could be assumed to be.

Grinding his teeth, Van took mental note of their faces until his gaze caught on a familiar woman in the distance.

D**n it. So I was tricked by that pathetic lie.

Whatever the count and Larry were saying beside him, Van ignored them and fixed his glare on Elena, who stood awkwardly across the room.