Previously
Joseph meets with Declan and tasks him with finding the witness to the Late Emperor's will, implying that the witness must be eliminated once the document is secured. Declan accepts the mission despite the suspicious nature of the request and the obvious attempt to keep the information from his own subordinates.
How to Break Up with You Completely
“Well, look who it is.”
As he was leaving the palace, a familiar voice called out behind him, and Declan turned. A man poised somewhere between middle and old age walked toward him with a welcoming smile.
“Duke Lowell.”
The man approaching with that genial grin was the head of the empire’s sole surviving ducal house.
Though he had stepped back from state affairs due to advancing age and was now recuperating in a tranquil retreat far from the capital, he was once the Late Emperor's most devoted loyalist, still widely revered as a brilliant prime minister.
On a personal level, he was also the closest friend of Declan’s late father, the former Grand Duke, as well as Declan’s own godfather.
“This must be our first meeting since the war—nearly three years, has it been? You haven’t changed a bit. Dahlia, come greet him.”
The Duke gestured toward someone nearby. A young girl who looked nothing like him stepped forward. Unlike her glamorous half-sisters, her appearance was plain and unassuming.
Reaching them, Lady Lowell dipped into a light curtsy.
“It has been a long time, Your Grace.”
“Lady Lowell.”
Declan bowed his head in return.
“I understood that you two were residing at your villa in the south.”
“Ah, His Majesty wished to see Dahlia, so we’ve been staying in the capital for a short while.”
Declan offered a quiet nod of understanding. Though born to a different mother, Dahlia Lowell was the current Emperor's youngest sister, so her presence in the imperial palace was hardly unusual.
The Emperor was particularly fond of this youngest sister, who was separated from him by quite an age gap—a stark contrast to the sharp hostility he directed at Sienna.
Standing beside the Duke with a bored expression, Dahlia seized her chance the moment a brief pause fell over the conversation.
“Uncle, if you have no further need of me, may I head back inside? I seem to have a touch of indigestion….”
It was blatantly obvious that she was feigning illness, yet she made no effort to conceal it. Duke Lowell clearly noticed as well, giving a disgruntled nod.
“Very well, go on.”
“Then please excuse me, Your Grace.”
With a curt, perfunctory farewell, Dahlia turned and walked back into the palace, as though she had fulfilled her only duty. The Duke clicked his tongue as he watched her retreating figure.
“Pardon her. We spoiled her so thoroughly that even grown, she insists on living entirely as she pleases. I worry about her endlessly.”
“She is at an age where such things are natural.”
“Listen to you, speaking like a father who has raised children of his own.”
At the Duke's teasing remark, Declan’s expression stiffened ever so faintly.
“At any rate, one can hardly treat you lightly these days. To be entirely honest, I thought that war was utterly hopeless.”
Realizing his phrasing had been rather too blunt, the Duke hastily added,
“Ah, not merely my own view, of course, but the opinion of most in the nobility.”
“I imagine so.”
Declan replied with total indifference. The Duke cleared his throat awkwardly, caught out by his own words.
“Well, was it not understandable? The elite forces deployed this time were less than half their former strength.”
It was indeed an absurdly meager force to march into a war. While the Late Emperor had reacted with extreme paranoia whenever imperial territories were ceded, he held little real interest in recapturing the northern regions. Nor did he care much for the victories Declan brought back from the front.
When Declan offered no reply, the Duke’s eyes narrowed slightly.
“In a way, I truly admire you. If it were me, I wouldn't throw my life away while being called the dog of the man who murdered my parents.”
“Mind your tongue. However venerable a duke you may be, it does you no good to displease His Majesty.”
The cold tone made the Duke frown.
“Do you still harbor resentment toward me?”
“Resentment?”
Declan let out a soundless laugh.
“On the contrary, I am grateful. It is thanks to your pushing me onto the battlefield that I was able to rise to where I stand today. Not only did I preserve my life, but I reclaimed my house as well.”
At that time, it was almost unheard of for the son of a high-ranking noble family to enlist as an ordinary soldier. Even when it did happen, it was reserved for destitute, lesser nobles with no inheritance to their names; most high-ranking nobles naturally joined prestigious knightly orders.
It was far less grueling, and attending closely to the Emperor offered great prestige.
When Declan first set foot on the battlefield, he had been a mere boy of ten.
Having lost his parents to an unexpected tragedy at a young age, he had no proper guardian to protect him, and because he was not yet of age, he could not properly inherit his parents' estate.
The family’s businesses fell into the hands of others one after another, and their estates were put up for auction. Only the Grand Duchy of Monferrato remained within the family line thanks to the resolute intervention of the former Count Monches. But that was all.
Back when he was barely clinging to life after his parents' deaths, his forgotten godfather had come to him.
‘Declan. This is the only path left for you to survive.’
Whether his intention back then had truly been to protect his godson or to completely sever the bloodline of a grand ducal house the Late Emperor considered a thorn in his side—none of it mattered anymore.
In the end, he had survived, and he had brilliantly maintained his position as a simple noble, just as the Late Emperor wished. Not as a hero who threatened imperial authority, but merely as the Emperor’s loyal servant.
Had it not been for the futile ambitions he harbored in his previous life, he would have lived the rest of his days content in that role.
“Now that I think of it, when word arrived that you were stopping by Lopawell, His Majesty’s mood was noticeably foul.”
“Are you suggesting he suspects me now, of all times?”
At Declan’s dry, mocking question, Duke Lowell gave a small shrug.
“Well, it’s hardly surprising. The Second Princess was there, so he was likely uneasy beneath the surface. As you well know, Her Highness is quite a striking beauty. Even with countless achievements to your name, you are still a man, Duke.”
“My word. Your imagination runs wild.”
Declan laughed as if he had just heard nonsense, but the Duke refused to let it go.
“I’m not joking. Or perhaps he wondered if Her Highness might use you to return to the capital. Of course, that is merely my own speculation.”
“Those words are deeply insulting to the Princess, Duke.”
“Is it not the truth, though? The Second Princess takes after her late mother to a fault…. Empress Melope was a woman who could never rest until she had whatever she set her heart on.”
Immersed in old memories, the Duke’s gaze grew distant and deep.
“Then again, the Late Emperor was hardly any different.”
At that low murmur, Declan’s eyes shifted back to the Duke.
“Now that you mention it, you were very close to the late Emperor, were you not?”
The Duke nodded readily.
“Indeed. Ever since he was an imperial prince, the three of us—your father, he, and I—were thick as thieves.”
“Did the Late Emperor leave any words before he passed?”
“He asked me to look after Dahlia.”
The moment he spoke his only niece’s name, a shadow of sorrow fell over the Duke's face.
“A pitiable child.”
It was a voice laden with sympathy, yet Declan could not bring himself to share it.
Though Dahlia Lowell had never been recognized as the Emperor’s legitimate daughter, the inheritance she received was generous enough to rival that of the First Princess.
Furthermore, considering that the boundless affection once showered upon Sienna had been shifted entirely to Dahlia after the Empress's execution, she hardly seemed like the one who warranted pity.
“If you have no woman in mind, what would you think of our Dahlia?”
“Have you gone senile?”
Declan grimaced as though he had just been told the most absurd thing imaginable. Finding his reaction amusing, the Duke broke into hearty laughter.
“What is wrong with that? It isn’t as though my niece falls short in any way. To be frank, setting the two Princesses aside, there is hardly a finer marriage prospect in the empire than our Dahlia.”
At least that much was true. Since the fall of the Ducal House of Licata, House Lowell remained the empire's only ducal family.
Yet for Declan, the matter was not even worth considering.
“It is hardly the time for the young lady to be discussing such things.”
“Still, she is of age now. In truth, I would keep her by my side forever if I could, but given my years, I cannot help but worry.”
“When the time comes, His Majesty will arrange a suitable match for her. He dotes on her dearly, after all.”
His expression remained devoid of even the slightest interest.
Perhaps due to the considerable age gap, the Emperor genuinely cherished his youngest sister. Remembering how Dahlia had even been betrothed to a foreign prince in his previous life, the Duke’s worries were nothing more than a waste of breath.
“Compared to the Second Princess, yes. As you say, he does treat her as kin, but….”
The Duke trailed off.
“Even so, next to the First Princess, she is merely a half-sister. And the First Princess desires you. That is what frightens me. For if the Emperor gains your backing, his power will become absolute.”
The Duke’s face grew grave, but Declan remained utterly indifferent.
“I believe I have told you time and again. I have no intention of stepping into the political arena.”
“Because you fear ending up like your father?”
The Duke looked at him with a question laced with a sneer. Declan’s lips curled in a wry, crooked smile.
“Saying that I am sick to death of it would be far more accurate.”