Chapter 30
At those words, Lexion’s brow furrowed sharply.
“…Pregnant? You mean you plan to get the Grand Duchess pregnant?”
His voice brimmed with disbelief. Dominique, concealing a sneer behind a polite smile, answered smoothly.
“Why are you so surprised?”
“That’s… absurd.”
“You saw it, didn’t you?”
He was referring, of course, to the moment Lexion had glimpsed their marital intimacy after the wedding. As Dominique dangled the insinuation like bait, Lexion’s lips briefly twitched with irritation.
With a sour expression, Lexion pressed on.
“…Right. I was shocked, especially since the marriage happened so suddenly.”
“Ah.”
“A cousin of mine, who treated women like street pebbles, marrying a woman who had spent years chasing another man… and in such reckless haste.”
Lexion spat the words like something bitter, the emphasis on “another man” clearly meant to point back to himself. But Dominique was unbothered. Unmoved, even.
When Dominique failed to react, Lexion lashed out again, more forcefully this time.
“What’s the real reason? Is His Majesty offering you a cut of Melure’s salt trade in exchange for this farce?”
And just like that, Lexion, ever the reactive one, had let something useful slip.
So. The salt distribution rights.
The right to distribute salt from the Duchy of Melure had always belonged to the Emperor. It was no exaggeration to say that every sale, when, where, how much, was controlled by the imperial court.
But now it seemed the Emperor had granted Melure some level of independent control.
Or rather, he’d likely sold that control to them, for a price, and a steep one at that.
Salt is too valuable to part with lightly.
The Emperor must have needed funds. A great deal of them.
It wasn’t hard to guess why.
Lately, he’d been stirring up conflict across the continent, targeting budding republics and kingdoms that displeased him.
Rumors whispered that imperial finances were being dangerously overstretched to fund those wars.
To Dominique, it was the desperation of a man clinging to the old world order, trying to halt the inevitable tides of change. But so long as that desperation benefitted him…
Selling off salt rights? That means he’s pressed for time.
For all his outward composure, the Emperor must be in more dire straits than anyone realized. There might be gaping holes in the empire’s coffers by now.
The thought was oddly satisfying.
No wonder the surveillance has eased.
Even the number of agents watching Dominique had decreased. Soon, he would be free to move through the capital as he pleased, meet whomever he wished, unchecked.
It wasn’t bad news.
Lady Kyrie is proving quite useful.
Using Kyrie Ehrenberg to get under Lexion’s skin was turning out to be remarkably effective. The infamous “mad dog” was quite the handy little tool.
What began as a half-impulsive proposal had become, in hindsight, a rather beneficial marriage.
And the marriage bed too, for that matter.
Dominique found himself recalling the woman he had left behind that morning.
There’s a certain flavor to it, I suppose.
Every time he pinned that small body beneath his, her feeble resistance, scratching his back, clawing at his shoulders, felt like the meaningless thrashing of prey already caught in his jaws.
Even as she wept and whimpered, her eyes had burned with rebellion. That contrast had thrilled him.
His throat was parched from the memory. Dominique took a small sip of the tea he had long neglected. As the silence stretched, Lexion, unable to bear it, lashed out again.
“But cousin… would the Prince of Melure really hand over trade rights to a man who rejected his proposal?”
“Ah.”
Bringing up the Melurean prince’s past romantic interest in Dominique was a childish jab, but Dominique let it pass with an easy smile. Lexion, however, looked fit to grind his teeth.
“And Kyrie Ehrenberg, the Grand Duchess…”
“Ehrenberg? Lexion, she’s a Haswell now.”
“…Can you really trust her?”
“Trust her?”
“She chased after me for years.”
“Mm.”
“Not just followed. She did anything, everything, to try and have me.”
Not untrue. Dominique had seen Kyrie herself sneaking into Lexion’s chambers once, clad only in a sheer negligee.
“Quite right.”
He acknowledged it plainly, as if stating a fact. None of it had any real impact on him.
Lexion, enraged by the indifference, snapped out the next line like a blade.
“And you’d try to have a child with a woman like that?”
“She’s my wife now. What does her past matter?”
“Who says it’s even your child?”
Dominique’s teacup paused in midair. Lexion, now spiraling, didn’t stop.
“Don’t be so naive.”
“I’m not sure I understand the connection, that my wife once pursued you, what does that have to do with whether a child is mine, Leksi?”
He used the nickname deliberately, and Lexion flinched. Dominique smirked knowingly.
“As far as I know, she never did sleep with you.”
“That’s, ”
“You were too busy avoiding her. Mocking her. Weren’t you?”
With a soft clink, Dominique set the cup down on its saucer. He ran a finger along the rim and added,
“I doubt you’d insult her to my face while crawling into her bed behind my back.”
“……”
“You hate doing anything you don’t want to, don’t you, Leksi?”
“I…”
The implication was obvious.
‘You’re not planning to claim my child as yours… are you?’
Though unspoken, the insinuation hung heavy in the air. Lexion’s face flushed red.
Searching for something to say, he blurted the first bitter thought that came.
“She’s the type to sleep with another man and pass the child off as yours.”
“But she didn’t. She married me.”
“I’m saying this for your own good!”
Lexion’s voice rose in frustration, sending ripples through the tea in his cup.
Dominique, already smiling, let the curve of his lips rise even higher.
His foolish younger cousin was so transparent. Perhaps it was time to remind him just how far apart they really were.
“You seem curious, how I managed to sway His Majesty, and why the wedding happened so quickly. Is that it, Lexion?”
“Cousin.”
“It was just after your little accident, the day after your ‘dear lady’ fell down the stairs.”
Lexion’s shoulder flinched at the thinly veiled mention of Kyrie’s injury. Dominique, enjoying the sight, went on.
“I had a private audience with His Majesty. And I told him the truth.”
“…What truth?”
“‘I fell first, Your Majesty.’”
The words slipped from his tongue as effortlessly as they had during that very meeting.
“‘The moment I caught her as she fell into my arms, I knew, it was fate.’”
He hadn’t expected the Emperor to believe it. The man was far too jaded, too calculating to be moved by romance.
Still, Dominique had said it anyway.
“From that moment, I couldn’t forget her. Mad dog or not, it didn’t matter.”
The Emperor had stared at him with that calculating glint in his eyes, perhaps enjoying the prospect of attaching the court’s infamous “mad dog” to Dominique’s name. Letting scandal cling to him like rot.
So Dominique had sealed the deal with a final blow.
“‘I’m in love with her.’”
Now, as he recited that line once more, he recalled the woman who had fallen into his arms.
So pale and cold, stepping into the trap with her own two feet. The same woman he’d held again this very morning. The one he’d return home to tonight.
It made the lie all the sweeter.
“So, Lexion, even if she were carrying another man’s child, I wouldn’t care.”
“…What?”
“I’d raise that child as my own.”
The words had barely left his mouth before Lexion’s fists began to tremble.
His entire face was screaming, Have you lost your mind, sleeping with that mad dog?
Dominique waited with open amusement, eager for the unfiltered words to spill out, knowing full well they might offer him rare and valuable insight.
“Your Highness.”
Just then, a steward entered the sitting room and bowed deeply, handing something to Lexion.
A letter, lightly scented with citrus.
Ah. That girl.
His wife’s younger sister, Elise Ehrenberg. The one rumored to be aligned with Lexion.
Everyone spoke so highly of her, but Dominique couldn’t recall her face or features. She’d never piqued his interest.
If she’d been as compelling as Kyrie, perhaps things would’ve been different.
Even now, his only thought was that the perfume was too strong.
Lexion’s expression, however, finally softened as he read the name on the envelope.
“…Right, cousin. I understand.”
He smiled artificially, clearly calculated. As if he’d just remembered the real reason he had summoned Dominique.
“There’s something I’d like to propose to you.”
Dominique smiled in return.
