Chapter 35
“Caesar.”
Count Anderson spread his arms in a warm, welcoming gesture, smiling as if nothing had happened.
There was no mention of the destroyed greenhouse or Eric’s injuries—not a single word.
Of course, bringing it up would only backfire on the Count himself.
He must be terrified that we’ve discovered Eric is a dark sorcerer.
Indeed, the Count’s eyes flickered with caution as he studied Caesar.
“You must have endured many hardships.”
“…You have no idea.”
“I hope you don’t still resent me for sending you to war. I only wanted to make you strong. And look at you—you returned as the Empire’s greatest hero. I couldn’t be prouder.”
The audacity—he spoke as if he were responsible for Caesar’s rise to glory.
Odette stole a glance at Caesar.
She had expected him to glare daggers at the Count, but instead—
Caesar simply let out a soft chuckle.
That arrogant, composed reaction made the Count visibly falter.
“As for Amelia… I’m truly ashamed. I must admit, I failed to raise my daughter properly.”
“You seem overwhelmed just managing your own household. I’ll lighten your burden—you no longer need to concern yourself with my affairs.”
With that, Caesar stripped the Count of his authority as his guardian.
The Count didn’t even attempt to argue by invoking the Emperor’s name.
“I see. It’s only natural that you take control of your own estate and forge your own path. Haha.”
Why does he seem so relaxed?
Odette tilted her head, trying to decipher the Count’s intentions.
And then—
The Count, who had been slightly hunched in apparent submission, suddenly straightened his posture.
A bad feeling surged through her.
He’s hiding something.
What was it?
“Even so, I hope you don’t forget that we are still family. I am, after all, your father-in-law.”
“…Were.”
“But since you are marrying Odette, I suppose that makes me your father-in-law-to-be.”
“Handle Amelia’s divorce first.”
Caesar retrieved a document from his inner pocket and placed it before the Count.
The Count skimmed over the papers and nodded.
“A divorce agreement. Since Amelia is unable to sign it herself, I shall sign on her behalf as her father. His Majesty has already given his approval, so there won’t be any legal complications.”
“If the Emperor has approved it, then there’s no need to delay. You can sign it now.”
“Indeed.”
The Count signaled to Jovern.
“Bring me a pen and ink.”
Moments later, the necessary materials were placed before him.
The Count picked up the pen—
Then paused.
His gaze lingered on a specific section of the document.
He began counting the zeros.
“Caesar, are you demanding one billion gold?”
“That’s correct. One billion in alimony, plus a trial.”
Even for someone as wealthy as Count Anderson, one billion gold was no small sum.
But it wasn’t the money that had set him off.
“A trial?”
The Count slammed his fist onto the table.
“I never bribed Mary! That wretched maid poisoned Odette’s tea of her own volition! She had always resented her!”
“That’s… quite different from what Mary confessed before she died.”
“You’d take the word of a mere servant over your own benefactor?!” the Count bellowed, his breath coming in sharp bursts. “Caesar, I raised you when you were just an orphan! Betraying me like this—how ungrateful can you be?”
Caesar didn’t react to his theatrics.
Instead, he cast a glance toward Golden, who had been standing silently by the wall.
Golden, who had ridden alongside Caesar and Odette’s carriage, pulled out a ledger and held it up.
“This document contains records of House Maes’s wealth being embezzled and funneled directly to Count Anderson by Butler Hans and Head Maid Anna.”
“T-That’s forged! I never gave such an order!”
“If that’s the case, you have no reason to refuse a trial, do you? If you are proven innocent, I will be the one to suffer a tarnished reputation.”
Caesar’s logic was airtight.
But let’s consider the real problem—
The Count had taken control of House Maes’s finances under the guise of managing them while Caesar was away at war.
Now, he was facing a trial.
Even if the court didn’t find him guilty, his reputation would be in ruins.
And with the evidence stacked against him, there was no way he could escape unscathed.
The Count buried his face in his hands, his shoulders heaving as he took deep breaths.
Was he crying?
Just as Odette was about to wonder—
The Count suddenly lowered his hands, revealing a smile.
A cold, eerie smile.
A chill ran down her spine.
The dread she had momentarily forgotten came rushing back.
He’s about to pull out his trump card.
“Caesar,” the Count said, his tone feigning reluctance. “For the sake of your happy marriage, I had no intention of saying this. I truly wished to remain silent.”
His voice dripped with mock sacrifice—as if he were enduring injustice for Caesar’s sake.
“But if you insist on putting me on trial… then Odette’s crimes will be exposed as well.”
“Crimes?”
Odette’s hands clenched into tight fists.
The way he spoke—as if she were guilty of some horrible atrocity.
He was clearly planning to frame her.
“W-What crimes are you talking about?” she demanded.
“You took the young lady of the house to a festival, corrupted her, and now you expect to claim her place while feigning innocence?”
The moment the word festival left the Count’s lips, Odette felt dizzy.
Oh, no. He’s really going to use that against me?
On the first day of the festival, Odette had received a letter from Leorahill and gone into town, where she met the young masters of House Saxen.
Caesar absolutely despises the Saxen family…
She vividly remembered what he had once told her:
“If you so much as contact that second son of the Saxens again, I’ll kill him.”
“And the youngest one you took care of? I’ll take them all down. Understood?”
His intense hatred stemmed from the fact that the Saxen couple had been Count Anderson’s accomplices, secretly running a human trafficking ring for years.
Even if Maxcallion and Leorahill hadn’t directly participated in their parents’ crimes, House Saxen was already marked for destruction in Caesar’s eyes.
“C-Caesar…”
Odette instinctively grabbed his hand.
“What?”
Caesar raised an eyebrow.
“I—uh… that is…”
She had no idea how to explain it.
The Count seized the opportunity, drawing out his words dramatically as if savoring the moment.
“Odette invited Amelia to join her at the Rivera Hotel so she could meet with a Saxen heir. That night, both women stayed out. And not long after—”
He smirked.
“Amelia was pregnant.”
What utter nonsense!
Amelia had started sneaking out half a year ago.
And now he’s trying to make it sound like I corrupted her?
Odette’s vision blurred with rage as she glared at the Count.
She wanted to rip out the few remaining hairs on his head.
“Odette?”
Caesar’s voice had dropped to a dangerously low tone.
Oh, come on!
Instead of uniting against the enemy, he was looking at her like she had something to explain.
Did he… actually believe the Count’s ridiculous accusations?
And even if it were true, what did it matter?
During the festival, Caesar hadn’t even returned from the war yet.
Why are you looking at me like a boyfriend who caught his girlfriend cheating?
Odette shot him a frustrated glare before finally speaking.
“I was Amelia’s personal maid at the time. I only went out because I had permission. And she was the one who asked to come along.”
“So, you did meet with the Saxen heir at the hotel?”
“…We watched the fireworks from the rooftop.”
Caesar’s jaw tightened.
The fact that she had even been near Maxcallion seemed to infuriate him.
His fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white.
Sensing the tension between them, Count Anderson’s confidence grew.
“If you put me on trial,” he sneered, “Odette will be branded the most wicked woman in the Empire—the scheming harlot who corrupted Amelia and stole her fiancé.”
“…….”
“Caesar, are you really going to drag me into court?”
If the Count painted Odette as a villain, the entire Empire would erupt in scandal.
People would demand her execution—a supposed seductress who defiled a noble lady and stole her betrothed.
But Caesar had no intention of letting that happen.
His voice dropped into a cold, steady murmur.
“I would never allow that.”
His gaze darkened, filled with quiet lethality.
“I would never let my precious Odette be dragged through the mud.”
