Ch#88
Spoils of War
Duchess
By Lemon Frog
Episode 88
numerous connections."
"Whether good or bad, Owen Barony itself will be on everyone's lips. In time, people will forget what happened and just remember hearing about Owen Barony several times... It's not a bad deal for them."
To him, this all seemed like the way of cowards, but if these were the rules of this world, Laslo was more than willing to play along and smash them.
Laslo shook his head.
"Anyway, so the rumors are spreading from there?"
"That's how it looks to me. Angela Bliss didn't visit here directly often, but a woman named Alyssa Keaton who frequented Owen Barony met Angela Bliss several times. Even when our informants backtracked the rumors, Owen Barony seemed to be the origin."
"And?"
"The amount Marsha Bohen pays monthly in compensation has increased. Laundry workers and maids earn similar wages, after all. So she's getting extra money from somewhere."
Unfortunately, tracing the exact source of that money was difficult, but wherever it came from, it was certainly from Laslo's opposition.
"Good. Let's counterattack. Plant someone at parties attended by those who frequented Owen Barony, and give a hard time to anyone pretending to know rumors about House Creaser."
"To what extent?"
"Enough to make them want to confront Marsha Bohen!"
"Understood. What will you do, Captain?"
Nathan, who had nodded without complaint at the vague order, asked Laslo. Laslo pulled a training sword from its sheath on the wall and checked the blade.
"Ah, I have some personal business to attend to!"
"......Will there be blood?"
"Sadly, I can't kill, but I can teach a lesson in humility."
The well-maintained blade gleamed sharply.
.
The lobby of the Empress's palace.
While Dimarcus met privately with the Empress, a few nobles working in the Empress's palace approached Laslo and Edmund during their break.
Usually, when someone approached, Edmund was the one to greet them first, so he reflexively looked up with a smile.
But they passed by Edmund and went straight to Laslo.
"Sir Creaser! The rumors say your last party was truly splendid?"
"Can we hope for an invitation next time? Those who attended were so impressed—we're dying of envy."
At their fussing, Laslo shrugged and gave a modestly humble reply. Meanwhile, Edmund, completely ignored, had cracks forming on his expression.
'What...? Is fawning over him this much just for hosting one party?'
Edmund seethed at the sight of nobles clinging to Laslo, begging for invitations.
However, it was undeniable that Laslo's reputation had skyrocketed after the party. It was the exact opposite of what Edmund had planned and hoped for.
"Damn it. House Milton has hosted splendid parties all this time. His party was nothing special!"
Edmund tried to belittle House Creaser's party, but even he knew the event's prestige was far higher with the Emperor sending gifts for the guests.
He couldn't complain to the Emperor, so Edmund could only boil inside.
His only consolation was that high society remembered one misstep amid ten successes. He could only hope Laslo would make a big mistake soon and plummet again.▲
And as Edmund sat grim-faced with those thoughts, Laslo inwardly mocked him.
'He suggested the party hoping I'd embarrass myself, but everything backfired—must be eating him up.'
But this wasn't enough. Laslo decided to twist the knife further using Edmund's own methods.
"Thanks to you suggesting I host a party, I've been quite bothered lately. How will you take responsibility?"
His words, delivered with a grin like a joke, made the surrounding nobles burst into laughter, while Edmund's lips stiffened further.
But Edmund quickly regained his composure and raised the corners of his mouth in reply.
"Oh dear. I've made a grave mistake. I should go around pleading not to bother you, Sir."
- 3 -
"Imagining Sir Milton doing that sounds amusing. But that would start rumors that I'm harassing my subordinate, so I'll politely decline."
Not only did it amuse him to imagine Edmund pleading to everyone, but calling him a 'subordinate'—technically accurate—scraped at Edmund's pride.
The forced smile on Edmund's face was slowly fading.
But feigning ignorance, Laslo turned to the other nobles.
"Speaking of which, I've heard rumors that Sir Milton's skills surpass mine, so we should swap the Imperial Guard Captain position. Hearing that makes me feel bad even calling him my subordinate."
The nobles laughed ha-ha-ha, assuming it was another joke, and sided with Laslo.
"But in the military, hierarchy must be clear. If it flips, wouldn't that be rebellion?"
"Sir Creaser's military exploits are renowned. Don't mind whoever's spreading such talk."
Laslo's slyly curved eyes turned back to Edmund. His face was now visibly rigid to anyone watching.
Edmund was patient enough to wait for the situation he wanted, but now he seemed a bit hasty.
'Well, he can only be relaxed when he thinks he's on top.'
Laslo wanted to show him that even that belief was a mistake.
Unaware of Laslo's intentions, Edmund struggled to calm his boiling rage but couldn't unclench his fist.
'Why is this bastard mouthing off so strangely today? Does he want to die?'
Laslo usually gave curt replies even to praise, letting Edmund manipulate public opinion freely. But today, it felt like Laslo was cleverly luring him into a trap.
Even knowing it, he couldn't compose himself.
"Still, Sir Milton might feel wronged. He rose to vice-commander of the Imperial Knights Order at the youngest age..."
"I... don't really think that way..."
"Ah! How about a spar right now? If you win, take the Imperial Guard Captain position. Honestly, this role's been uncomfortable for me..."
At those words, fire flashed in Edmund's eyes.
The position he coveted so much was being dangled like 'it's a hassle, so you take it'—an immense insult.
.
The mask of the 'kind and courteous knight' Edmund always wore cracked, revealing seeping rage.
"If you're offering the chance, I won't pass it up."
Seeing Edmund smile while gripping his sword hilt tightly, Laslo knew his plan had worked perfectly.
He had no intention of giving Edmund time to recover.
"As expected of your spirit. Nothing to do and bored anyway, so let's spar. I'll avoid injuring you as much as possible."
"Is that a provocation? We'll decline. Please give proper instruction."
"Well, if you insist, gladly."
The two headed straight to the Imperial Guard training grounds, and word that the first and second-in-command were sparring spread quickly.
All Imperial Guards off duty and nobles wandering the palace flocked to the spectacle, unwilling to miss it.
But Edmund wasn't intimidated at all.
'Time to teach this back-alley thug who swings a sword on brute strength what real swordsmanship is.'
He was confident in his own strength and believed the orthodox noble swordsmanship he'd learned from imperial knights since childhood far surpassed commoners' styles.
Thus, he saw this as a real opportunity.
He'd lose face unable to show his face if defeated by his own subordinate before all these spectators—what a pity that would be.
Regaining his leisurely smile, Edmund faced Laslo and drew his training sword.
"Best of three?"
"Will it go that far...?"
"Pardon?"
"Nothing. Let's do that."
Edmund felt he'd heard something deeply unpleasant but shook off stray thoughts as Laslo drew his sword and lowered into stance.
But Laslo didn't seem serious at all.
'If he loses like that, he'll claim he didn't show his full strength?'
Of course, it wouldn't change Laslo's utter humiliation.
Edmund smirked and readjusted his grip.
"You first?"
"Can't do that as the superior. Please take the initiative, Sir Milton."
"Grateful for the courtesy."
The moment words ended, Edmund charged at Laslo. With genuine killing intent.
.
