CHAPTER 117
***
Translator: Rae
The Emperor’s gaze sharpened as he examined the golden card placed on the desk.
It had been handed to him by Dustin.
“October 1st, was it?”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Furrowing his brows heavily, the Emperor stopped tapping his fingers on the armrest and picked up the card.
“It says ‘Westein Temple.’”
“It’s also a temple supported by Duke Russet.”
“Duke Lasette certainly has a sharp mind. It’s easier for external forces to mobilize troops and suppress the royal family from the outside, rather than within the palace. There are precedents for royal engagements being held outside the palace, so no one can make an issue of it.”
The Emperor paused, tapping his fingers slowly on the desk.
“I should be happy on a day when my son’s engagement is celebrated, but it ended up to be more complicated than I thought.”
Though his voice remained calm, a bitter smile tugged at the corners of the Emperor’s lips.
“To turn such a joyful day into something tainted with blood... what a foolish man.”
With a heavy sigh, the Emperor stopped fiddling with the card and turned his gaze to Iker.
“You said it yourself. Dustin has already been ruined beyond redemption.”
“I must apologize, Your Majesty, but that does seem to be the case.”
“What is there to apologize for? Even I can see that. I won’t deny my own responsibility, but the Imperial Consort and Duke Russet… today, they’re particularly detestable.”
The Emperor placed the card down and opened a drawer, pulling out a piece of paper.
Grabbing a pen, he began to write something in elegant handwriting.
Once finished, he reviewed the content, signed it, and sealed it with his signet ring before handing it to Iker.
"Take it."
"Thank you, Your Majesty.”
Iker accepted the document without even checking it, immediately offering his gratitude, which caused the Emperor’s eyes to narrow slightly.
“Do you know what it is, or are you just thanking me without a clue?”
“Isn’t it a letter of delegation?”
“Correct. How did you know?”
“Your Majesty mentioned that you were going to make a big bet on me. I assumed that would require authority, so I expected you to give me a letter of delegation.”
Without a hint of hesitation, Iker’s composed reply made the Emperor smile.
“As expected of Deimos. You’re sharp. You should’ve feigned surprise, made it more fun for me as the giver. Check it over, see if there’s anything more you need.”
At the Emperor’s urging, Iker lowered his gaze to the letter of delegation he was holding.
The Emperor watched him for a moment before speaking again.
“Anyway, Duke Russet has set the board. There’s no opportunity like this. It’s not just a chance to squeeze him; it’s a chance to sever him entirely.”
“…”
“I’ve made the biggest bet I can. The rest is in your hands. Can you bring victory to me?”
The Emperor’s question was one he didn’t expect an immediate answer to.
Iker, like the late Duke Deimos, Cameron, always gave the same response.
[“I will do my best.”]
‘Always a humble answer, even when he delivers the best results.’
The Emperor had expected the same answer this time, but Iker’s response took him by surprise.
“I will bring it to Your Majesty.”
The Emperor blinked in disbelief for a moment.
“...What did you just say?’
“I will bring it to you, Your Majesty. The victory Your Majesty desires.”
At Iker’s steady reply, as he met the Emperor’s gaze without flinching, the Emperor’s eyes widened for a moment.
Even when he had learned that the Duke of Russet was preparing a rebellion, he hadn’t been this surprised.
But when he remembered what was at stake in this fight, the Emperor smiled slowly.
“It’s because of Marquess Camellia, isn’t it? That answer of yours.”
This time, there was no response from Iker, but the Emperor wasn’t bothered. He knew well that silence was often a form of affirmation.
“This time, I’ll have to thank the Marchioness. She’s the one who made you move with such conviction. But will you be all right?”
"What do you mean?”
“You’ll have to watch the Marquess’ engagement ceremony, won’t you? Though I suppose you wouldn’t be too thrilled.”
"Are you worried?”
Hearing Iker speak the words he had been thinking in such a calm, collected manner, the Emperor cleared his throat awkwardly.
“Hmm, well, not exactly.”
“You need not worry, Your Majesty.”
"Hm?"
“Your Majesty will understand naturally on that day.”
Seeing the laid-back smile on Iker’s lips, the Emperor gave up on trying to guess what was in his mind.
How could he ever follow the workings of that mind of Iker?
But somehow, the Emperor didn’t feel worried. Perhaps it was because he trusted the man in front of him so completely.
“Then, I’ll take my leave.”
Iker folded the letter of delegation and tucked it into his pocket. He bowed his head to the Emperor and turned to leave.
The Emperor's gaze, watching the young Duke leave the office with a leisurely stride, was tinged with envy.
‘How wonderful it would have been if Dustin had grown up like that.’
It wasn’t that he didn’t feel pain over the son he had abandoned. Was there any finger that didn’t hurt when he bit it?
Still, he couldn’t show that pain. The seat he occupied was not one where such emotions could be revealed.
Leaning his head back, the Emperor raised his hand to cover his face.
For just a brief moment, he allowed himself to be an ordinary father, and between his fingers, a deep sigh escaped.
***
As dusk settled, Dustin, who had just disembarked from his carriage, furrowed his brow and walked toward his palace. With each step, frustration radiated from him.
“Useless fools. Can’t even handle that one thing, and they had to call Elly back?”
The people he was cursing were the vassals to the Marquess of Camellia.
Earlier that afternoon, Dustin had attended the Count of Deviant’s banquet with Elysia, in high spirits. But his mood quickly worsened.
An urgent message had arrived from her estate, and Elysia had excused herself to return home—right after the first dance, before she even had the chance to greet everyone properly.
That had been the moment Dustin’s plans of using the dance to pull her closer, to embrace her, had been completely dashed.
“Now that I think about it, this pattern has been repeating lately.”
Ever since Elysia had gone to meet Prince Rashian at the palace, whenever he called for her, something always interrupted their time together.
There were no artificial obstacles, though. When he checked, the things that had come up were real and important.
If only someone were deliberately causing these interruptions, he could do something about it, but with nothing but bad luck keeping him from his goals, it was frustrating beyond measure.
Grinding his teeth, Dustin entered the palace and was met by the waiting servant, who bowed deeply.
“Duke Russet is waiting for Your Highness in the study.”
“Duke Russet?”
"Yes, His Excellency the Duke.”
Raising an eyebrow in surprise, Dustin tossed his coat to the servant and strode toward his office.
When he arrived, he swung the door open, and Duke Russet, who had been sitting on the sofa, turned to face him.
“Finally arrived, have we?”
The Duke of Russet greeted him with a composed smile. Dustin, however, ignored the sofa and walked straight toward the desk.
He plopped down in the chair, crossed his legs, and looked at the Duke, his tone sharp due to his bad mood.
“What’s this about? Why summon me at this hour?”
“You seem upset. Does it bother you that the Marquess left in the middle of the event?”
Dustin’s thick brows twitched at Russet’s words.
“I sent the watchman away who were watching her. Don’t tell me you’ve been watching me?”
As Dustin failed to hide his annoyance, Russet chuckled and shook his head.
“Of course not. But things that happen at such banquets always find their way to me, even without a watchman present.”
"That's quite impressive. You know everything, don’t you? You could’ve resolved the Marquess’ estate issues in advance and spared me this miserable mood.”
“If I could do that, would I be sitting here like this? I’d have already put Your Highness on the throne.”
“You got a point.”
Seeing Dustin’s slightly softened voice, Russet grinned.
“Why the rush? Soon enough, everything will be in your hands—both the throne and the Marquess, the things you’ve desired.”
Dustin’s sharp gaze softened at the Duke’s words.
He rubbed his face as if to clear his mind, then muttered under his breath.
“It’s not the throne I want, but just to see Elysia. The constant slipping from my grasp is maddening.”
“The day will come when everything changes. Just be patient.”
“Then can I do everything as I please with Elysia?”
The conversation, once again circling back to Elysia, made Russet sigh inwardly, but he didn’t show his irritation. He gave Dustin the answer he expected.
“Of course. While I handle the situation, it wouldn’t be a bad idea for you to have a place to take the Marchioness and spend time together. I’ll arrange a place for you.”
“Hmm, not a bad idea.”
Completely relieved, Dustin stood from his chair and moved toward the sofa, sitting down to face the Duke of Russet.
“Alright, what’s the real reason you’re here? I imagine you’re quite busy preparing for that day.”
“It’s true, there’s been an addition to the plans I need to discuss with you.”
“An addition? What’s this about?”
Thinking it wouldn’t be anything important, Dustin asked casually, but the Duke’s answer left him in disbelief.
“We plan to plant a bomb at the temple on that day.”
"What?”
“If the situation doesn’t go as expected, I’ll have it detonated. That way, we can take out the Empress, the Emperor, and the Third Prince all at once.”
The Duke spoke as calmly as if he were discussing something trivial, like having tea. Dustin froze, speechless.
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