Chapter 61

“…!”

As the Duke’s brows deepened sharply, a single thought crossed the minds of the members of House Arke.

Success.

But before anyone could celebrate, the noblewoman gave a quick, warning glance to her siblings, telling them to stay composed. She then spoke again with perfect calm.

“We beg your pardon, Your Grace. We had just heard the news of that marriage and were on our way back from visiting Eisenhart territory.”

The clear tone, smooth as glass, was crafted for this lie.

As expected of the eldest sister.

Her brothers watched her in admiration, but then—

“Hah.”

The sound cut through the air.

Everyone looked up immediately.

The Duke was sitting with his fingers loosely interlaced over his stomach, smiling silently.

An unexpected reaction.

The noblewoman froze, and a few of her foolish siblings gave awkward laughs, trying to follow his lead.

The Duke’s smile vanished in an instant.

“How dare you insult me with such a pitiful lie.”

“…!”

Every face went pale.

It was the gaze of a serpent.

Just that one look felt like a noose tightening around their necks.

When the noblewoman opened her mouth in panic to deny it, the Duke’s cold voice cut her off.

“Take them away.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

Masked men appeared as if from nowhere, surrounding them.

Their presence alone was chilling.

“Wait, no! We meant no disrespect to Your Grace!”

“How much longer must I tolerate these insects?”

“Y-Your Grace!”

Crash.

A loud thud echoed.

The eldest daughter of House Arke had slammed her forehead against the marble floor.

Blood trickled down, staining the white stone.

The Duke’s narrowed eyes gleamed faintly.

At his slight motion, the masked men hesitated.

The noblewoman quickly spoke through her trembling lips.

“Every word I speak now, I swear before the Great Spirit, is the truth. If it is not, may my breath and blood burn forever in eternal fire.”

Ho.

The Duke’s lips curved faintly.

What he had just heard was no ordinary claim but the highest form of oath made before the Great Spirit worshiped across the Empire.

He stared at her intently. The woman pressed her head lower and spoke faster.

“We have just returned from the Eisenhart Grand Duchy. And we saw it with our own eyes. Demius, the second son who had run away, has returned. He personally brought back a woman to make his wife.”

“Th-That’s right. I saw it too. The second son of Eisenhart was protecting a woman with bright orange hair. I swear it!”

Another sibling hurriedly supported her words.

Orange hair?

The Duke’s brows drew together slightly.

The image of the intruders the circus master had described came to mind.

The three who wore masks shaped like a canary, a boar, and a cat.

The woman with the boar mask.

He had been told she had bright orange hair.

‘Coincidence?’

It wasn’t an uncommon hair color, but it wasn’t common enough to dismiss either.

The Duke spoke slowly, forming his next thought.

“So.”

His cold voice filled the room.

“What is it you want from me?”

“…Pardon?”

The noblewoman lifted her head slightly, caught off guard.

His slanted gaze pierced into her unfocused gray eyes.

“Your family is the Grand Duchess’s kin, isn’t it?”

His gaze slid down the line of kneeling bodies.

“You don’t look as though you were warmly received there.”

“…!”

Damn it.

The noblewoman clenched her jaw tightly.

So this was the power of the man who ruled the central political circle of the Empire.

‘He saw through us immediately.’

As she desperately tried to think of a way to recover, the Duke spoke again.

“So you came here to use me, is that it?”

“N-No, Your Grace!”

The noblewoman quickly lifted her head, forcing a polite smile.

“We simply could not ignore such injustice.”

“Injustice?”

The Duke’s lips twisted in mock amusement.

He looked at her as if he could see right through her soul.

Her hands trembled slightly, but she steadied her voice.

“Forgive me for speaking so boldly, but it is said Your Grace once proposed an alliance through marriage with the Grand Duke’s family.”

The Duke narrowed his eyes, silently granting her permission to continue.

“And yet, the Grand Duchy betrayed that solemn agreement between noble houses. They have defiled the sanctity of a noble marriage. Unable to tolerate such shameless behavior, we attempted to protest in person, and that is how this misfortune befell us.”

She spread her arms slightly, as if pleading for sympathy.

Her siblings quickly echoed her words.

“Y-Yes, that’s right. We are the victims!”

“That disgraceful man threw me, his own uncle, to the ground!”

“We were gravely injured but came here at once to report it to Your Grace. We could not bear to stay silent!”

Hmm.

The Duke narrowed his eyes.

He listened to their desperate cries and quietly scoffed inwardly.

‘Not entirely false.’

But truth or lie didn’t matter.

What mattered was whether it could be used.

‘An engagement, was it?’

A faint smirk brushed his lips before fading again.

‘So the second son has returned.’

He moved his hand slightly, as though sorting unseen cards.

‘That could be useful.’

Seres von Eisenhart.

The troublesome ruler of the North.

To control her and turn her power to his favor.

A marriage alliance.

‘But then.’

Why hadn’t he heard about the second son’s return until now?

The Duke’s eyes narrowed.

‘Was the information deliberately hidden?’

He was in the Imperial capital, far from his southern estate in Valenstein. Eisenhart was nearly half a continent away.

Even so.

‘Incompetent fools.’

He considered how best to punish his intelligence department but then remembered the report from the circus master.

A woman with orange hair.

Two tall companions.

The intruders who had entered through the secret passage.

Their description matched too perfectly.

‘Hmm.’

A faint grin crossed his lips.

So the Eisenhart family knew how to play dangerous games after all.

And if the ringleader wasn’t the missing first son but the second…

‘Interesting.’

Demius.

Perhaps his talents weren’t limited to swordsmanship.

The Duke touched the end of his mustache and said indifferently,

“I see.”

The noblewoman flinched.

After that long, suffocating silence, all he gave was that vague reply.

‘Damn it.’

She bit her lip, frustration flashing across her pale face.

Then,

“So, what will you pay me in return?”

“…Pardon?”

The noblewoman blinked in confusion.

“Payment, Your Grace?”

Her wide eyes trembled.

The Duke’s lips curved again.

“You came here to ask for my help. Surely you don’t expect that to be free?”

“W-We are not asking for help!”

“Really?”

His eyes narrowed, the corners of his lips rising in a chilling smile.

“You wanted to use me for your revenge against the Grand Duke’s house, didn’t you?”

“…!”

All of them froze.

Zachariel Peln Valenstein.

The man rumored to have stolen fire from the wheels of hell itself.

They had just realized what they’d done.

They had walked straight into the serpent’s den.

“Very well. That will be your payment.”

The Duke smiled faintly.

“Y-Your Grace?”

The noblewoman stammered, but the Duke ignored her.

“Drink it.”