Chapter 100
***
Sponsored by Virginie. Thank you ❤️(2/2)
****
Perhaps he had no particular intention of hearing Blair’s reply, for after saying that, Edmund turned his gaze away. He pushed the table—warped from their intense struggle—aside with one hand, roughly tidying it up as he prepared to leave the conference room. The bluish city lights seeping through the glass window glinted sharply along his silhouette. His face, devoid of the heat from moments before, revealed only the habit of composing his emotions and restoring order.
Blair pondered Edmund’s offhand remark, trying to gauge his true intentions.
Was he sincere when he said he wanted her by his side? Or was he still running the numbers?
In truth, it didn’t matter. Whether it was sincere love, calculated words, or simple loneliness. Blair just wanted to be deceived. Hoping that the light within their hearts was the same. Hoping to draw a little closer to the man standing a few steps away.
“Then I’ll be in Eldenvale too.”
She glanced at Edmund and replied casually. There was no need to think it over. If he wanted her by his side, that was enough.
“It’ll be inconvenient.”
“Still, if I go to the townhouse, you’ll be left alone.”
“……”
“I’ll stay by your side. That’s what you want.”
Having stubbornly asserted herself, Blair now waited for him to bridge the distance between them. Edmund, who had been gazing intently into her eyes, spoke in a voice tinged with a faint smile.
“I’m glad we’re on the same page.”
Then he reached out his hand to her. It was the same large hand that had just moments ago been shaking her as she lay sprawled across the table.
“Shall we head back together now?”
“…Sure.”
Blair nodded and took his hand without hesitation. Her heart couldn’t help but race at the cool warmth that washed over her. Holding his hand brought a wave of relief—the certainty that they were connected by the same feelings.
Side by side, the two soon left the conference room. Leaving behind the lingering heat, their shadows stretched long as they left.
14. The Knot
“What on earth are you talking about, Mother?”
Rufus, pale as a sheet, was repeating the same question for the third time.
“You’re telling me I have to leave for Rorschach?”
“…Rufus, my boy. Just calm down for a moment.”
“How can I possibly calm down!”
Unable to accept his fate, the eldest son of Liberte leapt to his feet, kicking his chair aside. Isabelle could not bring herself to restrain her son; she simply closed her eyes tightly and then opened them again.
“You want me to marry the princess of those filthy barbarians? And the second princess, no less…! Does that even make any sense?”
Though she had anticipated this reaction, seeing her son—now pale—raging like this broke Isabelle’s heart. Her gaze slowly fell to the letter in her hand. It was a missive that had arrived from the Kingdom of Genoa earlier that morning.
The moment she saw the golden seal of Genoa stamped on the envelope, Isabelle’s heart sank. Letters addressed to the head of the household were strictly kept separate, so the reason this one had ended up in her hands, as if to flaunt it, was clear. It was Edmund’s doing.
Doubting her eyes, she opened the letter to find a command written in the king’s own hand. From the very first line, Isabelle could not believe what she was reading.
King Victor III of Genoa, in order to solidify friendly relations with the Kingdom of Rorschach, hereby formally approves the marriage between Rufus George Liberte, eldest son of the House of Liberte, and Princess Selma Al-Hanifa of Rorschach.
This matter is to be regarded as a marriage alliance between the two nations, and I hereby order the House of Liberte to faithfully fulfill its diplomatic duties as Genoese nobility.
Arrange a date so that the wedding ceremony may be held promptly within this month.
Victor Louis Lionel Mortimer Lancaster III
It was a concise and clear letter. As if the matter had already been decided.
“That cunning little bastard…!”
Isabelle’s hands trembled violently. The anger she had been struggling to suppress all this time surged up all at once.
Even before this, when she had received word from Edmund that he intended to send Rufus to Rorschach, Isabelle had immediately sought out her legal counsel to ask how she could annul the marriage. However, the answers she received were all the same.
Since Edmund had been entrusted with all the duke’s authority at this point, he held the final say regarding the marriage. Since time immemorial, the fate of those belonging to noble families had rested entirely in the hands of the head of the household, and there was virtually no way to overturn his decision.
Only one lawyer, who had a long-standing relationship with Isabelle, offered a faintly viable alternative: to find a flaw in Princess Rorschach’s side of the agreement. Even that would only serve to postpone the marriage and was nothing more than a temporary measure.
But it all came to nothing. The moment the letter bearing the seal of the Kingdom of Genoa arrived, all possibilities were sealed off. To ensure she could not even dream of defying his will, Edmund had cemented the marriage to Rufus as a union of national significance.
Only then did Isabelle realize just how meticulously Edmund had played his hand—and that she had been completely pushed out of the game.
‘The Duke’s family has truly raised a beast.’
A chill ran down Isabelle’s spine at the realization that she could no longer control Edmund in any way.
“Mother, in that country, a man cannot even keep his own name. He cannot even pass his surname on to his children. What kind of marriage is it where one must live like a shadow, serving a woman, only to die like a handful of ashes when the time comes? It is exile and humiliation!”
“Rufus.”
“Who do you think you are to dare! It’s Edmund, isn’t it? I knew it was his doing! How dare a bastard presume to decide my fate? By selling out our family name?”
Rufus’s eyes, which had been darting wildly into the void, snapped back to Isabelle. His lips, bitten until they bled, trembled violently.
“The son of a filthy concubine!”
“Watch your mouth!”
Isabelle shouted harshly, as if she were about to strike Rufus. It was the first time in twenty-six years that she had raised her voice at her son. She had never even been able to lecture Rufus, whom she loved more than life itself.
“We must consider our position. This is the reality, after all. Your father left nothing to you or me, so we must assume that all authority now lies with Edmund.”
Stunned, Rufus stared down at Isabelle, his mouth agape.
“Mother, how can you possibly acknowledge that man…?”
“Don’t nitpick. You mustn’t lose sight of what’s most important right now.”
“So what do you intend to do? Are you going to sell me off to a barbarian nation just like this? Because we have no authority whatsoever?”
“…That’s not what I meant. We still have time, so we need to come up with an alternative.”
“You have no power left, Mother.”
Isabelle flinched at the mocking tone. Unfazed, Rufus continued, as if he had lost his mind.
“That bastard has swallowed up our family in place of our dead father, and now he’s selling me off too—and you’re just going to stand by and do nothing, even though you’re seeing it with your own eyes?”
“…Stop it, Rufus. You’re just worked up right now…”
At that moment, a bright light slid in through the dim window. The two of them, who had frozen in their tracks, turned their gaze toward the window without a moment’s hesitation. It was the sound of a car’s wheels rolling over the cobblestones as it pulled up to the main entrance.
Edmund had returned to the mansion.
“That son of a bitch!”
Rufus suddenly let out a curse and stormed out of the bedroom. Isabelle didn’t even have a moment to stop him. Overwhelmed by bewilderment, she grabbed the hem of her skirt and belatedly followed her son out.
“Rufus!”
“I’m going to kill him!”
Blinded by rage, Rufus sprinted down the hallway toward the stairs. Just as he reached the landing leading to the entrance hall, the Duke and Duchess stepped through the wide-open main gate, looking as affectionate as a painting.
Rufus came to a sudden halt on the landing. Strangely, his blazing eyes were fixed not on Edmund, but on his wife.
Even Rufus couldn’t fathom why. Was it because he realized he’d be knocked out cold if he charged at his half-brother, who was far taller and more muscular than he was? Or was it because he instinctively sensed Edmund’s weakness? Or was it simply a desire to take back even a single thing from the man who had seized everything—from the Duke’s seat where Rufus should have stood?
Rufus’s footsteps thundered down the stairs as he charged toward Blair. He was driven solely by the rage of having his own taken from him. Closing the distance in an instant, Rufus raised his fierce fist toward Blair.
Chapter 100
***
Sponsored by Virginie. Thank you ❤️(2/2)
****
Perhaps he had no particular intention of hearing Blair’s reply, for after saying that, Edmund turned his gaze away. He pushed the table—warped from their intense struggle—aside with one hand, roughly tidying it up as he prepared to leave the conference room. The bluish city lights seeping through the glass window glinted sharply along his silhouette. His face, devoid of the heat from moments before, revealed only the habit of composing his emotions and restoring order.
Blair pondered Edmund’s offhand remark, trying to gauge his true intentions.
Was he sincere when he said he wanted her by his side? Or was he still running the numbers?
In truth, it didn’t matter. Whether it was sincere love, calculated words, or simple loneliness. Blair just wanted to be deceived. Hoping that the light within their hearts was the same. Hoping to draw a little closer to the man standing a few steps away.
“Then I’ll be in Eldenvale too.”
She glanced at Edmund and replied casually. There was no need to think it over. If he wanted her by his side, that was enough.
“It’ll be inconvenient.”
“Still, if I go to the townhouse, you’ll be left alone.”
“……”
“I’ll stay by your side. That’s what you want.”
Having stubbornly asserted herself, Blair now waited for him to bridge the distance between them. Edmund, who had been gazing intently into her eyes, spoke in a voice tinged with a faint smile.
“I’m glad we’re on the same page.”
Then he reached out his hand to her. It was the same large hand that had just moments ago been shaking her as she lay sprawled across the table.
“Shall we head back together now?”
“…Sure.”
Blair nodded and took his hand without hesitation. Her heart couldn’t help but race at the cool warmth that washed over her. Holding his hand brought a wave of relief—the certainty that they were connected by the same feelings.
Side by side, the two soon left the conference room. Leaving behind the lingering heat, their shadows stretched long as they left.
14. The Knot
“What on earth are you talking about, Mother?”
Rufus, pale as a sheet, was repeating the same question for the third time.
“You’re telling me I have to leave for Rorschach?”
“…Rufus, my boy. Just calm down for a moment.”
“How can I possibly calm down!”
Unable to accept his fate, the eldest son of Liberte leapt to his feet, kicking his chair aside. Isabelle could not bring herself to restrain her son; she simply closed her eyes tightly and then opened them again.
“You want me to marry the princess of those filthy barbarians? And the second princess, no less…! Does that even make any sense?”
Though she had anticipated this reaction, seeing her son—now pale—raging like this broke Isabelle’s heart. Her gaze slowly fell to the letter in her hand. It was a missive that had arrived from the Kingdom of Genoa earlier that morning.
The moment she saw the golden seal of Genoa stamped on the envelope, Isabelle’s heart sank. Letters addressed to the head of the household were strictly kept separate, so the reason this one had ended up in her hands, as if to flaunt it, was clear. It was Edmund’s doing.
Doubting her eyes, she opened the letter to find a command written in the king’s own hand. From the very first line, Isabelle could not believe what she was reading.
King Victor III of Genoa, in order to solidify friendly relations with the Kingdom of Rorschach, hereby formally approves the marriage between Rufus George Liberte, eldest son of the House of Liberte, and Princess Selma Al-Hanifa of Rorschach.
This matter is to be regarded as a marriage alliance between the two nations, and I hereby order the House of Liberte to faithfully fulfill its diplomatic duties as Genoese nobility.
Arrange a date so that the wedding ceremony may be held promptly within this month.
Victor Louis Lionel Mortimer Lancaster III
It was a concise and clear letter. As if the matter had already been decided.
“That cunning little bastard…!”
Isabelle’s hands trembled violently. The anger she had been struggling to suppress all this time surged up all at once.
Even before this, when she had received word from Edmund that he intended to send Rufus to Rorschach, Isabelle had immediately sought out her legal counsel to ask how she could annul the marriage. However, the answers she received were all the same.
Since Edmund had been entrusted with all the duke’s authority at this point, he held the final say regarding the marriage. Since time immemorial, the fate of those belonging to noble families had rested entirely in the hands of the head of the household, and there was virtually no way to overturn his decision.
Only one lawyer, who had a long-standing relationship with Isabelle, offered a faintly viable alternative: to find a flaw in Princess Rorschach’s side of the agreement. Even that would only serve to postpone the marriage and was nothing more than a temporary measure.
But it all came to nothing. The moment the letter bearing the seal of the Kingdom of Genoa arrived, all possibilities were sealed off. To ensure she could not even dream of defying his will, Edmund had cemented the marriage to Rufus as a union of national significance.
Only then did Isabelle realize just how meticulously Edmund had played his hand—and that she had been completely pushed out of the game.
‘The Duke’s family has truly raised a beast.’
A chill ran down Isabelle’s spine at the realization that she could no longer control Edmund in any way.
“Mother, in that country, a man cannot even keep his own name. He cannot even pass his surname on to his children. What kind of marriage is it where one must live like a shadow, serving a woman, only to die like a handful of ashes when the time comes? It is exile and humiliation!”
“Rufus.”
“Who do you think you are to dare! It’s Edmund, isn’t it? I knew it was his doing! How dare a bastard presume to decide my fate? By selling out our family name?”
Rufus’s eyes, which had been darting wildly into the void, snapped back to Isabelle. His lips, bitten until they bled, trembled violently.
“The son of a filthy concubine!”
“Watch your mouth!”
Isabelle shouted harshly, as if she were about to strike Rufus. It was the first time in twenty-six years that she had raised her voice at her son. She had never even been able to lecture Rufus, whom she loved more than life itself.
“We must consider our position. This is the reality, after all. Your father left nothing to you or me, so we must assume that all authority now lies with Edmund.”
Stunned, Rufus stared down at Isabelle, his mouth agape.
“Mother, how can you possibly acknowledge that man…?”
“Don’t nitpick. You mustn’t lose sight of what’s most important right now.”
“So what do you intend to do? Are you going to sell me off to a barbarian nation just like this? Because we have no authority whatsoever?”
“…That’s not what I meant. We still have time, so we need to come up with an alternative.”
“You have no power left, Mother.”
Isabelle flinched at the mocking tone. Unfazed, Rufus continued, as if he had lost his mind.
“That bastard has swallowed up our family in place of our dead father, and now he’s selling me off too—and you’re just going to stand by and do nothing, even though you’re seeing it with your own eyes?”
“…Stop it, Rufus. You’re just worked up right now…”
At that moment, a bright light slid in through the dim window. The two of them, who had frozen in their tracks, turned their gaze toward the window without a moment’s hesitation. It was the sound of a car’s wheels rolling over the cobblestones as it pulled up to the main entrance.
Edmund had returned to the mansion.
“That son of a bitch!”
Rufus suddenly let out a curse and stormed out of the bedroom. Isabelle didn’t even have a moment to stop him. Overwhelmed by bewilderment, she grabbed the hem of her skirt and belatedly followed her son out.
“Rufus!”
“I’m going to kill him!”
Blinded by rage, Rufus sprinted down the hallway toward the stairs. Just as he reached the landing leading to the entrance hall, the Duke and Duchess stepped through the wide-open main gate, looking as affectionate as a painting.
Rufus came to a sudden halt on the landing. Strangely, his blazing eyes were fixed not on Edmund, but on his wife.
Even Rufus couldn’t fathom why. Was it because he realized he’d be knocked out cold if he charged at his half-brother, who was far taller and more muscular than he was? Or was it because he instinctively sensed Edmund’s weakness? Or was it simply a desire to take back even a single thing from the man who had seized everything—from the Duke’s seat where Rufus should have stood?
Rufus’s footsteps thundered down the stairs as he charged toward Blair. He was driven solely by the rage of having his own taken from him. Closing the distance in an instant, Rufus raised his fierce fist toward Blair.
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