Chapter 61
“Lottie.”
“To become someone’s wife, living a whole life with even my name forgotten under a husband’s surname, risking my life just to give birth to a son? Is that the life you want for me?”
“Stop it! If you don’t want to ruin our relationship any further!”
“No! You said you would give me time to think, Father. You don’t have to. From now on, I will not marry anyone. Even if I have to die alone and lonely, I will never depend on anyone else! Never!”
Thump!
Her father slammed the table and rose from his seat. His eyes, glaring at Lottie, were burning red.
Lottie suddenly thought that her own eyes, facing him, probably didn’t look much different.
“May… because of you….”
At the words that finally burst from her father’s lips, Lottie let out a gasp despite herself.
She felt she knew what his next words would be.
— The Madam was already frail, but her condition worsened rapidly after she gave birth to the young lady….
— If she had listened to the doctor’s advice to terminate the pregnancy, she would have lived twice as long. She passed away at such a tragic age….
Her father had loved her late mother more than anyone else in the world.
Though he had raised his only daughter with devotion, how could she not know? She had seen him secretly swallowing tears while looking at a daughter who was the spitting image of her mother.
As Lottie recalled the whispering of the maids that still rang in her ears and braced herself against the heat rising in her eyes, someone broke through the tense atmosphere and entered the study.
“Hanson.”
“Master, I’ve come because there is an urgent report.”
Hanson spoke with a frantic face. Lottie and Robert, who had been staring at each other, turned to look at Hanson simultaneously.
“Tom Philson… is said to have vanished without a trace last night.”
The clash between Lottie and Robert soon reached the castle of Duke Sherman, where Calyx was staying.
“Count Icks, having returned from the capital, has presented his daughter with two choices. Either marry a partner chosen by the family… or marry Padrick and receive the protection of the royal family.”
In the study, two other members sat alongside Sasha and Calyx. One was Mikhail, and the other was a face appearing here for the first time.
“Given the circumstances, it seems the Leader’s current situation has leaked to the Queen’s side. It feels like only a matter of time before the Queen finds us.”
Even Sasha’s voice, which had always been composed, was strained with unprecedented tension. Sasha, Mikhail, and the other member cautiously watched Calyx’s reaction. Mikhail, in particular, was on edge because the very situation he had feared was unfolding.
In contrast, Calyx remained stoic. He merely leaned his head to the side, resting his chin on one hand; he seemed unfazed by the fact that his location might have been discovered by the Queen.
What was currently slicing thinly at his nerves was solely the fact that Lottie had been forced into a choice by her father.
The thought that this situation had arisen because he had stayed by her side would not leave his mind.
“What do you intend to do?”
Mikhail, anxiously monitoring his lord’s mood, asked abruptly. Calyx turned to him. His eyes were hollow, as if he hadn’t quite emerged from his thoughts.
“Though there is still time until the day of the uprising, this is a period where every move and every word must be careful. Now even Count Icks is sharpening his guard and preparing to turn to the Queen’s side.”
And that wasn’t all. The marriage talks between Catherine’s daughter, Princess Sylvia, and the royal family of Trie were another source of tension.
The union of the two kingdoms held not only the historical justification of ending a long-standing feud dating back to the Thirty Years’ War but also practical benefits.
Trie would receive the technical expertise from Matila to lay the tracks for a transcontinental train connecting Matila, Trie, and Deisnoia, while Matila would receive military aid from Trie, known as the Immortal Army.
It was not yet certain whether the reason Catherine was joining hands with Trie—a country she used to criticize colorfully as a land of barbarians—was to prepare for civil war.
However, Catherine was rushing Sylvia’s marriage more than necessary, and if the marriage alliance were successfully concluded according to her plan, the dream of reclaiming the throne would remain a mirage to be dreamed of only in bed.
“To risk any more unexpected situations is akin to self-destruction. Wouldn’t it be better to head to Manbrin now?”
“You mean I should run away.”
“I mean we should follow the original plan. According to the initial plan, Your Highness wouldn’t have been sentenced to exile in the first place. You wouldn’t have had to sink beneath the waves with a ship you never even boarded. And….”
Mikhail swallowed the rest of his words as they began to turn into a lament. He felt that if he were to recite every single thing that had gone wrong, the night would not be long enough.
‘Charlotte Evanshire.’
If he had to summarize all those deviations in one phrase, he could easily do so.
Chewing on the name that made his teeth grind just thinking about it, Mikhail carefully studied Calyx’s features.
Surely, His Highness must know as well.
That the plan is going wrong. That he cannot deny that a woman named Charlotte Evanshire is at the root of it.
“It is right to quickly discard what cannot be taken along.”
Calyx looked at Mikhail without a word.
His subordinate’s golden eyes gazed straight back at him.
They were filled, as always, with nothing but loyalty and concern.
“You’re telling me to choose… whether to remain here as Kayan Stallion, or return to being Calyx Valdea and leave for Manbrin.”
The reason a sudden laugh escaped him was likely because he thought of her, who had been forced to make a choice by her father. Because even at a moment like this, their lives were mirror images of each other.
“We haven’t heard the story from Robin yet, who just returned from the capital.”
Instead of giving an immediate answer, Calyx changed the subject. The man sitting in a straight posture to Calyx’s left bowed his head slightly.
Robin. Codename: Roe Deer.
His surname was unknown. This was because he was a former slave sold from a country across the sea to the east.
It was well known how the arrogant and cold Deisnoia, and Trie, which retained its barbarian bloodline, treated slaves. Even Matila, which called itself a kingdom of gentlemen, considered slaves from the east to be livestock.
Therefore, one could sufficiently imagine what harsh times Robin, a former slave, must have endured before joining them through the military units in the border regions.
Standing well over six feet tall with muscles tempered by grueling labor, his skin was tanned bronze. His eyes were golden like Mikhail’s, but the shade was deeper. His crimson hair, close to vermilion, was cropped short, the very picture of a soldier.
“Looking at your expression, it seems William hasn’t managed to persuade Prince Andre yet.”
“That is correct. However….”
Robin trailed off with a clumsy pronunciation. As Calyx and the other members turned their attention to him, Robin spoke slowly.
“William has dispatched one of his subordinates. He is looking for something.”
“A person?”
“Yes. A male living in the capital. Age between his teens and twenties.”
“I suppose he’s not looking for a mistress who sent a letter saying she’s carrying his child.”
Calyx jeered, but Robin did not smile, his expression remaining as colorless and odorless as stone.
Calyx looked at Robin and Sasha, who were watching him.
After meeting each of their eyes once, he looked at Mikhail, who was waiting anxiously for his answer.
“You told me to make a choice, Mikhail.”
“…….”
“It might not be as far off as I thought—the day I return as Calyx Valdea. This is all I can tell you for now.”
Mikhail’s face brightened for a moment before hardening again. He couldn’t easily understand the implication of those words.
His Highness had staged his disappearance partly to act more freely in Dempis, but also to allow William to safely contact Prince Andre while all the royal family’s attention was focused on his death.
Negotiations with Prince Andre hadn’t even been fully concluded yet, and yet he said, ‘the day I return as Calyx Valdea might not be as far off as I thought.’
At first, he thought it meant he would return as the leader of the rebel forces and go to Manbrin Island, but looking at His Highness’s expression, it was hard to be certain.
“I should invite a guest to the house soon.”
Calyx said with a smile. His face was full of anticipation, but Mikhail read the hidden scheme in his eyes. Calyx, accustomed to hiding his intentions, still spoke in a relaxed voice.
“Prepare with care. She’s the first guest we’re welcoming to this house, excluding her.”
The guest Calyx mentioned visited the castle late at night, as the day was coming to an end.
“The house is a bit cluttered as we haven’t been here long. I ask for your generous understanding.”
Calyx received the guest in the main drawing room closest to the entrance hall, rather than the inner drawing room where he had met his subordinates.
The chandelier on the ceiling, the marble sculptures above the doors on either side of the mantelpiece, and the peak of luxury where every protruding part was gilded.
At Calyx’s words, which were as soft as the firelight in the hearth, the guest merely clenched and unclenched his fists a few times. It didn’t seem like the man’s inscrutable humility was entirely uncomfortable.
Knock, knock.
After a moment, a familiar face entered the drawing room along with the sound of knocking. A man of sturdy build with teal hair and golden eyes.
It was Mikhail, the temporary butler who had been selected in a very fair—so it was said, but in truth, in a way very disadvantageous to someone—manner, because they needed a butler to serve the guest.
“Since we found the house in a hurry, we don’t have proper servants yet. I apologize in advance for the clumsy service.”
As if to prove Calyx’s words, Mikhail set the tray down with a loud thud. Tea splashed from the violently shaking cups.
Just before Calyx could thunder a reprimand, Mikhail bowed and left the room. It was obvious his pout would be miles long even without looking.
“Uh… the way he sets it down might be a bit much, but the taste will be good. ……Probably.”
Calyx picked up his teacup first to show that nothing untoward had been put in the tea. The guest remained motionless.
Was stubborn persistence also a family trait? Calyx swallowed a chuckle and carefully observed the guest sitting across from him.
Green eyes behind glasses that looked even darker in the light, and wheat-colored hair swept up without a single strand out of place despite it being time for bed.
It was Lottie’s father, Count Robert Evanshire of Icks.
“…….”
Robert, who had been staring blankly at the teacup in front of him, slowly shifted his gaze.
“I invited you despite the rudeness, thinking you might have many questions. Thank you for accepting the invitation so readily.”
Readily, indeed. Robert stared at Calyx at the words that were clearly mocking. He was smiling fluently, with a face that looked as if he hadn’t the slightest clue what Robert was thinking.
“Stop… with the formalities. You called me here knowing what happened between me and my daughter, didn’t you?”
