Chapter 97

Someone wearing a knight’s uniform despite not being a knight.

What on earth was he plotting?

Vasteron had many outstanding knights, and Dylan himself was more skilled than anyone else.

It was obvious he’d quickly realize that the man wasn’t a knight, just as he had moments ago.

Even so, the man deliberately appeared dressed as a knight and drew attention to himself.

Unable to grasp his true intentions, Agnes felt unsettled.

As if sensing her unease, Dylan gently placed a hand over Agnes’s back, as though covering it. It was a small gesture, but it felt steady and reassuring.

“Judging by his behavior earlier, he seems to be someone His Majesty planted here. His Highness is gentle by nature and isn’t comfortable with assertive actions like that. I suspect that man is a strategist who gives him instructions as situations arise.”

“Hm, that’s how it looked to me as well. After he whispered something, His Highness suddenly seemed like a different person.”

“In that case, disguising himself as a knight isn’t strange at all. His Majesty enjoys that sort of mischievous prank.”

“…That’s true.”

The reasoning was so sound that Agnes found herself giving an awkward smile.

Dylan spoke in a calm voice, as if to reassure her.

“You don’t need to worry too much. I expected someone like that to follow him.”

Strangely enough, when Dylan said it like that, it truly felt as though nothing serious would happen. Perhaps it was because he’d resolved so many of Agnes’s problems until now.

“What happened with the mage you met during the day?”

“Ah, he seemed tired from rushing here, so I thought I’d talk to him tomorrow.”

“I see. If there’s any issue, please tell me as well. I’ll help however I can.”

He detested mages, yet he was the one to ask first about the mage who’d come to the ducal residence, and he worried about Noah’s situation as if it were his own. That gentleness made Agnes smile, her eyes curving like crescent moons.

“Yes, Your Grace.”

Dylan looked down at her face, then as if entranced, reached out and touched the corner of her eye.

The sensation of his rough, calloused skin against Agnes’s soft flesh felt unfamiliar.

Her eyes, which had been smiling, widened, the black pupils expanding within her golden irises.

Her lips parted slightly, and a sharp sound escaped as she drew in a quick breath.

Feeling Agnes’s intense agitation, Dylan’s body stiffened. Without realizing it, they’d moved too close. But freezing like this wouldn’t help anything.

Like the brave knight and meticulous commander he was, he adapted instantly. He moved his hand to tidy Agnes’s hair instead.

“…Your hair looked uncomfortable.”

He added the excuse in as calm a voice as he could manage, but Agnes’s eyes were still trembling.

After a moment, Agnes seemed to decide to accept the explanation and spoke haltingly.

“…Ah, th-thank you.”

She lowered her head slightly and resumed walking toward the main building. With nowhere else to go, Dylan followed beside her.

The warm, easy atmosphere they’d shared like perfectly coordinated partners vanished somewhere along the way, leaving only awkward silence between them.

If only it were a little earlier, or if their bedrooms were elsewhere. But after hosting the Crown Prince, night had grown deep, and the two of them had no choice but to head toward the marital bedroom.

Agnes did her utmost to keep her hands clasped below her navel from fidgeting as she walked straight ahead.

She didn’t turn to look, so she didn’t know what expression Dylan wore, but she had a good idea of her own.

Her cheeks were probably a little red. The fact that she was the only one this conscious of him felt so pathetic.

Earlier, she’d wished it were just a bit earlier. Then she could’ve escaped somewhere other than the bedroom. But now that her face felt hot, the darkness of night seemed like a blessing.

‘Dylan probably isn’t awkward like I am. He just fixed my hair…’

Dylan had never been very talkative, so it was likely he simply had nothing to say and was keeping quiet.

Agnes steadied her breathing and took each step as calmly as she could.

At last, they arrived in front of the marital bedroom.

Dylan opened the door and let Agnes enter first.

She naturally assumed he’d follow her inside, but behind her, everything remained quiet.

When Agnes turned back in confusion, Dylan was still standing outside, holding the doorknob with an uncomfortable expression.

“Now that I think about it, there’s something I still need to take care of. Please go to sleep first.”

“At this hour?”

“Yes. Then have a good night.”

As if it truly were urgent, Dylan closed the door as soon as he finished speaking.

From beyond the closed door, the sound of his footsteps echoed away, and soon after, a door closed in the direction of his office.

“Huh?”

Agnes blinked blankly before managing a single word.

In the wide bedroom, only her bewildered self remained.

* * *

At the same moment Dylan and Agnes gained a new source of confusion.

Vincent was reclining on a sofa in the largest and most lavish room of the annex.

The young boy’s face, worn from days of carriage travel, showed deep fatigue.

Beside him stood a man with bronze toned skin dressed in a knight’s uniform.

Each time the candlelight flickered, the man’s exotic features stood out even more.

After finishing the arrangement of Vincent’s personal belongings, the maids waited at one side of the room. The man gestured for them to leave.

Once the maids exited, Vincent complained in a drained voice.

“Conrad, you’re going to scold me, aren’t you? I did my best in my own way.”

But Vincent’s not quite childish whining didn’t work on the man called Conrad at all. He replied sternly.

“That wasn’t the line I prepared for you.”

“I know. But how was I supposed to say something like that? The Duke is my uncle. The Duchess is my aunt. You expect me to openly ask them about their bedroom matters?”

“Even if not openly, you should’ve left room for that kind of interpretation.”

At those words, Vincent’s pale face flushed red.

For a fourteen year old boy, married life was far too difficult a topic to even speak aloud.

Talking about how close a married couple was, or asking them to teach him how to find a good wife, was already embarrassing enough.

He’d endured it and done as told, only to be criticized afterward, which made him feel all the more upset.

Conrad didn’t miss the dissatisfaction filling Vincent’s face. He knelt on one knee at Vincent’s feet and looked up at his young lord.

“Your Highness, you mustn’t forget the mission His Majesty assigned you. You didn’t truly think you came to the North just to relax, did you?”

“W-Who are you calling a child?”

Vincent protested, his ears burning red.

“Of course I’ll carry out the mission Mother gave me. But saying things like that the moment we meet is too much… We’re staying here for a whole month anyway, so there’ll be a better opportunity later. Right?”

Conrad nodded with a low sigh.

“Understood. I’ll trust Your Highness.”

“Tch, trust…”

Vincent muttered in a wronged, sulky voice. He clearly knew Conrad didn’t truly trust him, but was brushing it off like indulging a child’s complaint.

“I know. If Uncle produces an heir, my position could become dangerous, and Mother is wary of that.”

Vincent fidgeted with his hands resting on his knees.

“But Uncle doesn’t seem like the kind of person who’d kill me to take the throne. And even if this visit confirms the Duchess isn’t pregnant, Uncle and Aunt are both healthy. They could have a child later on anyway.”

Vincent seemed completely unable to understand this so called mission. He followed his mother Cali’s orders because he lacked the courage to refuse, but he couldn’t shake his fundamental doubts.

Hearing his young lord’s complaints, Conrad’s sigh grew heavier. His pitch black gaze swept over Vincent’s innocent face.

“So you truly believe the Duke would never kill you.”

Conrad had already served Vincent for five years. He knew that this wasn’t just the naive talk of a child.

Vincent was the type who wouldn’t loosen a single button while someone was present, even when both body and mind were exhausted.

He genuinely believed that Dylan wouldn’t seek power by committing an unforgivable crime, that Dylan’s honor and conscience could be trusted.

Conrad twisted one corner of his lips upward and gripped Vincent’s knee.

“Your Highness, haven’t I told you? The Duke is a monster.”