Chapter 4

Lest the Grand Duke be kept waiting, Viscount Zaberne hastened his steps, only to find his steward trembling before Carpel like a leaf in a storm.

And truth be told, the viscount himself felt as though the very air were being crushed from his lungs beneath the Grand Duke’s sheer presence. So, how much more unbearable must it have been for the steward? The man had not even dared to lift his gaze fully to the duke’s face.

“I am Rehin Zaberne, head of House Zaberne. It is an honor to meet Your Excellency in person.”

Summoning every ounce of composure, the viscount spoke with a voice carefully schooled to calm, unwilling to lose the dignity of his station.

Carpel merely regarded him in silence.

It was a gaze that seemed to pierce, as though to examine every hidden corner of his being.

This was the father of the woman he loved. Carpel’s eyes traced over him as though searching for some mark of her, some trace of the one he had yearned for. At first glance, the two seemed nothing alike but there were faint echoes. The composed face that betrayed no fear despite his trembling, the straight, unwavering eyes… in those details, Carpel glimpsed her.

Viscount Zaberne, meanwhile, felt as though his chest would burst beneath the silence. Meeting the Grand Duke’s gaze was like stepping willingly into the jaws of a beast, one that could snap shut at the slightest whim and extinguish him in an instant.

“…It is good to meet you. I am Carpel Jein d’Yvern.”

At last Carpel spoke, his voice as commanding as the atmosphere itself. Deep and husky, it carried a magnetic allure, yet at that moment it only seemed to threaten to consume.

Uncharacteristically, Carpel even paid the viscount a formal courtesy.

“I shall escort Your Excellency to the reception room,” said the viscount quickly.

Carpel tilted his head, as though displeased.

At that, both the viscount and the steward swallowed hard, unable to quell their fear.

“… And where is she? The young lady.”

If truth be told, he had hoped she would greet him herself. He had driven himself without pause all this way for the promise of seeing her again. The disappointment was difficult to conceal.

“… Raiel will come the moment her preparations are complete,” the viscount replied with studied composure.

Carpel gave a careless nod. He would see her soon enough so there was no need to rush. Suppressing his restless anticipation, he followed the viscount toward the guest parlor.

Once seated opposite each other, silence thick with tension stretched between them. To Carpel, it was but patience, leaving the courtesy of the first word to the viscount. But to Viscount Zaberne, it was a dreadful stillness, like the lull before a storm.

He forced his breathing steady, though his body had grown rigid with strain.

It was his first meeting with the Grand Duke. the man who might well become Raiel’s husband. For her sake, he had to learn what kind of man this was, if only to soothe a fraction of his worries.

“First, allow me to thank you for gracing this humble estate with your presence,” he said.

Carpel’s brow twitched.

This was where she lived. To call it ‘humble’ sounded, in his ears, like belittling her very worth. To him, no place that held her could ever be base. Even the meanest hovel would shine with light if she were within.

Fortunately, Yuren noticed the faint stir of Carpel’s expression and, fearing an outburst, gripped his leg firmly under the table in warning.

Carpel, mercurial as ever, might erupt at any time. But to Yuren’s relief, he did nothing save for casting a cool, sidelong glance at the hand on his knee.

‘Remove it.’

The look said enough thus Yuren hastily withdrew.

“If there is something you wish to say, speak freely,” Carpel said at last, turning his attention back to the viscount.

The viscount drew a long, careful breath. The words caught in his throat, but at last he began.

“… Raiel is far too good a child for me.”

“Yes. She is,” Carpel replied evenly.

[If I had a daughter like her, I would give not only a ducal house, not only the Empire, but the whole of the continent itself to her. And even that would be too little.]

To him, she was beyond comparison. No offering could ever encompass the depth of feeling he bore for her.

“Because of my house’s circumstances, not a single proper proposal has come for her.”

Had they remained counts, suitors would not have been scarce. But after falling from imperial favor, stripped of the countship and cast to the borderlands, no one would wed a viscount’s daughter so tainted by disgrace.

“… I dislike needless words,” Carpel cut in, his tone chilling.

Whatever the viscount feared, it mattered little to him. The truth was simple: that no proposal had come was a stroke of fortune. Even a Grand Duke could not have her if she were already wed.

How he had tormented himself with that worry when he first set out in search of her, fearing she might belong to another already. If only he had learned her name that day they met. He regretted it bitterly.

Had he done so, he would not have wasted years under the false belief she was a commoner.

It was only later, through the careless words of a maid, that he realized she might be of noble birth. He had even sought out noble daughters of the capital one by one, searching in vain.

It was not until he stumbled upon the tale of a disgraced house, expelled from the city, that he finally found her.

‘If only I had found her sooner…’

Then she would never have been forced from the glittering capital to live in such a place, nor bear the weight of her family’s fall. The thought of her suffering made his chest ache.

But what was done was done. Now, at least, he could give her nothing but beauty and gentleness, and ensure that her path was paved in light. That was his only wish.

“… Then may I ask just one question?”

“What is it?”

“I would hear the reason, Your Excellency, why you seek to marry my daughter.”

Carpel tapped his fingers idly on the armrest.

The reason? It was painfully simple.

But it was not something he wished to speak of to anyone not before he spoke it to her herself. He had guarded that truth in silence for far too long.

***

At that very hour, on her way to meet the Grand Duke, Raiel crossed paths with a stranger.

A knight, by his bearing, his sword at his hip, his movements precise with the discipline of training. His dark blue hair and eyes held a quiet, melancholic air. But most striking of all was his face, so arrestingly beautiful that she caught her breath.

This was Lloyd, Carpel’s sworn knight, who had been granted a rare moment of freedom and was taking it in solitude.

When his gaze fell upon Raiel, his eyes widened.

His expression shifted from shock as though beholding someone one could never hope to see in this world, to a grave and solemn seriousness.

“Run away at once,” he said.

Raiel blinked at the sudden words, startled but not flustered. She studied him quietly. Surely this was one of the Grand Duke’s men. 

How else could a stranger walk so freely through her family’s halls?

Which made his words all the stranger. Why would a knight of the Grand Duke bid her flee?

For a moment she wondered if it were some jest, but his aura was clear pure and earnest, filled with warmth and kindness toward her. There was no malice, no deceit.

Her guard softened, and she spoke calmly.

“Your words are… quite bewildering, sir knight.”

“I say it for your sake, my lady.”

His face was carved with concern for her.

The instant Lloyd saw her, he knew at once who she was. Her dress, though modest, was of fine quality. She was of nobility, without question. And she could only be the viscount’s daughter. Which meant she was the very one Carpel had chosen.

And Lloyd could not stand idle, watching her walk willingly into the lion’s den.

It was not that he feared Carpel would harm her. For all his coldness and rough edges, the Grand Duke treated those he considered his own with a peculiar, steadfast loyalty.

But the Grand Ducal House itself was no fit place for her.

Most who served there were… unwell. Strange, as though their very minds had twisted. Carpel paid no mind, so long as his household functioned, but ordinary folk found it unbearable. Many had left, unable to endure the atmosphere.

At first, Lloyd himself had not thought much of the matter when Carpel announced he would marry Viscount Zaberne’s daughter. Surprised, yes, but he had dismissed it as none of his concern.

But the moment he saw Raiel in person, his view changed.

For Lloyd too bore a dangerous and peculiar secret – one that came with being a knight sworn to the Grand Duke.