Chapter 31

‘Maybe I should bring Noah to a social gathering soon. If he shows up well-dressed and proper, it might quiet those ridiculous rumors for a while.’

Rickman tried to think rationally, but the anger inside him refused to fade.

Then his gaze fell on a servant crouching low on the floor, collecting the shattered pieces of the teacup.

The servant’s shoes and pant legs were soaked, yet he said nothing and crawled pitifully across the floor like an insect.

‘Dear, servants aren’t slaves. They’re people we employ.’

Agnes used to say that kind of nonsense all the time. But how could anyone look at this creature and say he wasn’t a slave?

The mere thought of her made his vision burn red with rage.

Rickman crushed the servant’s hand beneath his shoe, grinding the shards of porcelain into his skin.

“Aaagh! M-my lord! Please, please stop…”

The servant screamed in agony as glass pierced his palm. Only then did he look somewhat human. Rickman gave a crooked smile and lifted his foot.

“I’ll cover the cost of your treatment. Now finish cleaning up the mess. Don’t you dare spill blood on the office floor.”

The servant, trembling, gathered the bloody shards onto a tray and hurried out of the room.

They called themselves servants, but in truth, they were slaves to money. As long as they were paid, they would endure anything.

Clicking his tongue, Rickman watched the man leave, then turned to the pale-faced butler.

“Is there any way to stop the trial?”

“…It will be difficult. Too much attention is on this case, especially since the Duke of Vasteron himself, a member of the Imperial Family, filed the petition.”

“It’s absurd to let them take Noah. Returning him when he’s an adult? Nonsense. Agnes may be a good mother, but she’s no educator. If she raises him alone, he’ll inherit that same weak nature of hers.”

Rickman clenched his jaw, bitterness twisting his expression.

“But I suppose it’s no wonder she’s confident. At this rate, I really might lose.”

“Then perhaps there is another way, my lord.”

The butler dismissed the remaining servants, leaned closer, and whispered his plan.

As the butler spoke, Rickman’s face contorted.

“That’s insane.”

“But my lord, there’s no more certain way than this. Even the royal family couldn’t interfere.”

Rickman stared at the empty air for a long moment.

Then, after a stretch of silence, he pressed his fingers to his temple and gave a low, cruel chuckle before smoothing his expression again.

“You’re right. This is the time for certainty. Above all, I want to see the look on her face when she realizes she’s lost. She sold herself to that monster thinking it would give her freedom. I can’t wait to see her despair when everything falls apart.”

The idea that she could find happiness without him was laughable. Everything she treasured, everything she thought made her happy, had been given to her by him.

“Tell them I’ll attend the trial. Let’s show her there’s no place for her but here.”

As the butler bowed and left, the atmosphere in the office grew heavy and suffocating.

The air reeked of greed, the kind that clung to a man who loved nothing yet sought to possess everything.

* * *

The custody trial between the Duke of Vasteron and the Count of Overhen over a young boy had become the most talked-about event among the nobility.

The nobles who attended wore solemn faces, but their hushed whispers were nothing more than gossip disguised as propriety.

“I heard Count Overhen is very strict with his son.”

“You don’t say. I heard the poor child was so terrified he stopped speaking altogether.”

“No matter how obedient a wife might be, how could any mother endure that? I actually admire the former Countess of Overhen. Oh wait, what do we call her now? Shouldn’t it be the future Duchess of Vasteron?”

“She’s only a fiancée for now. And haven’t you heard the rumors? They say the Duke of Vasteron isn’t even human and can’t have children.”

“My goodness, you mean that’s why…”

“Yes, some say Lady Everchen only did all this to marry into a more powerful house. That boy was just part of the dowry.”

“Shh, that’s dangerous talk.”

“Oh, please. If the Duke were a normal man, why would he marry a divorced woman and take her child too?”

“There’s also talk that the Duke of Vasteron fell madly in love with her.”

“How naïve. Tell me, did you marry your husband out of love?”

“What are you implying?”

Before the conversation could spiral further, a priest entered the courtroom.

In the Empire, all trials were overseen by the Temple’s judiciary branch, based on the belief that those who served the divine would judge most fairly.

In practice, the Temple was one of the most conservative institutions in the Empire, deeply rooted in strict principles. That meant their rulings rarely strayed from tradition, which was hardly a good sign for Agnes given the Temple’s bias toward preserving the family unit.

Even so, when the priest arrived, it was Rickman, not Agnes, who appeared agitated.

“Everyone, please be seated.”

At the priest’s command, the room quieted. Rickman, however, stepped forward before taking his seat and bowed deeply with exaggerated politeness.

“Your Grace, before the trial begins, I wish to reveal an important truth.”

“The trial hasn’t even started yet, Count.”

“I understand. But this entire proceeding is meaningless, and I wish to explain why.”

Rickman wore a look of deep sorrow, as though the admission pained him greatly. But compared to Agnes, who had gone pale in an instant, his act was nothing.

She stood abruptly.

A terrible feeling surged in her chest.

She had believed that even Rickman wouldn’t dare reveal that. But now, could it be?

“Rickman, don’t you dare speak another word.”

Her voice was cold and sharp, rarely ever so harsh. But Rickman’s lips curved upward in triumph.

Turning back to the priest, he adopted an expression of sorrowful sincerity.

“Your Grace, I know my former wife, Agnes Everchen, soon to be Agnes Harkvitz, only wishes to take Noah out of love, not malice. Her intentions are pure. But as you surely understand, compassionate women sometimes make foolish choices.”

Several noblewomen in attendance frowned at the condescension in his tone, but the Temple’s judges said nothing. They valued tradition over sensitivity.

And when Rickman continued, even the noblewomen fell silent.

“Regardless of her affection, I cannot entrust my son to her care. This is not to deny her as the boy’s parent, but…”

“Count Overhen, speak clearly. What do you mean this trial has no meaning? Are you claiming that Lady Everchen is unfit to raise the child?”

“Yes. Agnes Everchen…”

“Speak plainly.”

Rickman lowered his head as if struggling to continue, his expression pained. Even the patient priest sounded impatient.

Finally, Rickman lifted his gaze and declared,

“Agnes Everchen is not Noah’s biological mother.”

Agnes squeezed her eyes shut, her fists trembling. Her nails dug so deeply into her palms that they broke the skin.

If silencing Rickman could solve everything, she would have lunged across the room and done it without hesitation.

But she couldn’t. Not here, not now. She had to think ahead.

While she fought to stay composed, the priest questioned Rickman further.

“Then who is Noah Overhen’s birth mother? Are you confessing to having a mistress? The Temple approved your sacred marriage. Are you admitting to adultery before a priest of the divine?”

“No, that’s not it.”

The nobles erupted into murmurs.

Rickman and the rest of them, all of them, were equally vile.

They gossiped about immorality while indulging in it daily, pretending to be righteous. Every word that reached Agnes’s ears only made her feel sick.