Ch#202
Varkas came to a dead stop at the threshold and looked back.
Lucas, his face flushed with agitation, stepped toward him and continued his bold tirade.
“Brother, if you truly cannot forgive Sister-in-law for betraying you, then follow the vassals’ request and proceed with a divorce. There is no reason to maintain a hollow marriage if you’re just going to leave her neglected like this.”
When Varkas offered no response, Lucas took another step closer, raising his voice.
“Even if you’ve covered up all charges against her, distrust toward her has already taken deep root in the hearts of the Easterners. They may not show blatant hostility out of fear of your reaction, but the vassals will never accept her as the Grand Duchess. It would be better for her as well to be sent back to the Imperial Palace….”
A blunt groan escaped the younger man’s lips, cutting off his smug rambling.
Varkas had gripped his jaw with a brutal force, speaking as calmly as if he were engaging in casual conversation.
“What would you know about what’s ‘better’ for her to be running your mouth like that?”
Lucas let out a stifled whimper from the crushing pressure on his jaw.
Looking down at him with frigid eyes, Varkas continued in a composed tone.
“Do not overstep. My wife’s whereabouts are my concern alone. It is not a matter for you to meddle in.”
“…Then, do you intend to keep her isolated like this indefinitely?”
Lucas snapped, violently shaking off his brother’s hand.
Varkas’s lips twisted into a grimace.
“Why do you care about her situation?”
“I simply…!”
Lucas started to shout but suddenly fell silent. Varkas looked down at his brother, who bit his lip, unable to find a retort, and issued a bleak warning.
“I will overlook this just once, taking it as well-intentioned advice. But there will not be a next time. It would be wise not to test my patience too far.”
With those final words, he turned his back and stepped out of the meeting room.
Just then, an easterly wind swept over the castle walls, harshly scraping against his face.
As if drawn by something, he turned his head; his gaze landed on the citadel rising high above the inner walls.
With frozen eyes, he stared at the window of the bedroom where she would be staying. Beyond the heavily shadowed glass, he thought he saw her faint silhouette.
For a moment, the word ‘isolation’—flung by his brother—left an unpleasant echo in his mind. He turned away as if to shake it off.
Even if life here was a misery, he could not send her back to the Imperial Palace.
It was obvious how an illegitimate princess, driven from the position of Grand Duchess amid scandal, would be treated.
The pack of hyenas seeking to curry favor with the Crown Prince would not leave her in peace, and a venomous Gares would surely corner her as if he’d been waiting for the chance. And the Emperor, as always, would merely stand by and watch.
The Empress, too, wouldn’t care if her own daughter’s life was at stake. No—that woman would undoubtedly be plotting how to use her daughter again.
He clenched his fists as he remembered her lying limp as if dead after being crushed by the falling rocks.
The Empress had pushed her into that pilgrimage without batting an eye, fully aware that her daughter might be in danger.
He could never leave her under the influence of that viper-like woman again.
Ultimately, there was only one conclusion he could reach.
Staying here was her best option. Kalmor was the only place on the continent of Providen where the influence of the Empress and the Crown Prince did not reach.
Having shed even the slightest hesitation, Varkas began walking toward the training grounds.
At that moment, a familiar voice called out from behind him.
“Your Excellency.”
Varkas turned to see his direct subordinate, Rgen, approaching with quick steps, and moved toward him.
“The investigation into the matter you ordered has been completed. This way….”
Speaking in a cautious tone, the man led the way along the inner wall.
Varkas followed in silence. Only after passing through the castle’s rear gate and entering the back garden did the man speak again.
“As you suspected, a secret passage was discovered in the basement warehouse of the main castle. According to the detection magic tools, it appears to lead all the way to the edge of the Armund Forest.”
Varkas listened to the explanation as he stepped into the warehouse building connected to the main castle.
Descending the stone stairs, he saw the dark interior of the warehouse beyond the iron door, stacked with various supplies.
Varkas strode inside, found a wide passage within the inner room where valuables were displayed, and carefully examined the interior.
A tunnel wide enough for a large Direwolf to pass through comfortably stretched out in a straight line.
“A sophisticated mechanism was hidden in the stone wall. The entrance is designed to open only when this ornament is pulled in a specific direction.”
Rgen pointed to a metal torch holder installed near the entrance.
Varkas pulled it sideways. With a mechanical clack, the bricks shifted, and the entrance to the passage vanished without a trace.
He turned the handle back to its original position. With a faint sound of gears turning, the secret passage reappeared in an instant.
“The dwarves who designed the castle left quite a trick behind.”
Rgen readily agreed.
“Even the previous Grand Duke was unaware of this tunnel’s existence… It seems certain that slaves brought here during the Era of Warring States built it in secret.”
“Were there any other concealed facilities?”
“We conducted a precise search with detection magic tools, but nothing else was found.”
Having reported in his characteristically taciturn manner, the man carefully gauged Varkas’s mood and asked for his intent.
“What shall we do?”
Instead of answering, Varkas scanned the darkness of the tunnel with deeply pensive eyes.
The existence of such a secret passage inside a vault to which only the mistress of the castle held the key would instantly render the alibi he had painstakingly built for her useless.
Varkas looked back at him with a chilling gaze.
“How many people know of this secret passage?”
“Only myself and Labomir.”
“You handled it well.”
Varkas commended him in a dry tone before adding coldly, “Close this passage immediately, ensuring no information leaks out.”
As if he had expected such an order, Rgen bowed his head with a calm expression.
Varkas left his subordinate behind and walked straight out of the basement. Upon exiting the building, a wind stronger than before ruffled his hair.
Varkas brushed his hair back roughly, habitually glancing up at her quarters before finally turning away.
At dawn the next day, Varkas mounted his horse for the expedition.
Hundreds of vassals had gathered in front of the castle gate to see him off.
Scanning the orderly ranks of the mounted knights, Varkas’s gaze landed on his family.
At the head of the line stood Lucas, with whom he had argued the day before, and Laina, who had been confined to the annex for some time.
As he rode toward them, his sister lowered her eyes uncomfortably. Lucas, on the other hand, offered a polite greeting with a nonchalant face, as if nothing had happened.
“I wish you luck in battle, Brother. Please, return safely.”
Varkas responded with a slight nod and slowly scanned the training grounds.
She was nowhere to be seen. Feeling a bitter taste in his mouth, he slowly turned his horse.
Soon, the gatekeeper blew a loud horn.
The knights began their orderly march out through the wide-open gates.
Varkas, leading the way across the fields, suddenly looked back upon reaching the mid-slope of a hill.
The bluish light of dawn was pouring down over the towering citadel.
A single season.
The few short months that had made him flutter with hope and the agonizing frustration that awaited at the end flickered before his eyes like embers.
He spurred his horse forward as if to erase those thoughts from his mind. Mocking himself for ever expecting that something else might exist in this hollow life, he cut away the last lingering shreds of regret.
“I have already sent telegrams to the lords of the Northeast. Should the rebels rise up, we can mobilize available forces to suppress them immediately.”
By the time they had crossed the plains and reached the edge of a birch forest that bared its white trunks like bone, Beirop approached him and spoke cautiously.
Varkas, who was wetting his throat with a waterskin, wiped his mouth and let out a low sigh.
“Military suppression is a last resort. We must prevent a civil war from breaking out in the East at all costs.”
“Do you intend to negotiate with the rebels?”
“We cannot afford to waste strength when we need to keep the North in check.”
Varkas replied in a dry tone as he closed the waterskin and tucked it into his saddlebag.
“If I tell them I will overlook their crimes in exchange for the forfeiture of their lands and titles, they will back down quietly. Unless they are fools, that is.”
“These are men who betrayed their sovereign for a bit of gold. Common sense may not apply.”
“Then blood will have to be shed.”
With a calm response, Varkas spurred his horse again.
The journey was smooth. Perhaps thanks to the security measures established throughout the previous summer, there were no bands of looters, nor a single beast-type monster or wyvern—the dragon-kin that usually plagued the autumn. It was a tedious march.
Thanks to this, in less than ten days, they emerged from the vast forests and arrived at a wide plateau.
“Let’s rest here for a moment.”
When Varkas gave the order after stopping his horse near a pasture, a squire blew a horn to signal the command.
The knights following in an orderly fashion dismounted all at once. Varkas likewise climbed down from Toruk and immediately spread out a map to reconfirm the terrain.
Just then, the sound of a horn echoed from below the gently sloping ridge.
Varkas turned his head and narrowed his eyes as he spotted thousands of cavalrymen swarming through the thick mist.
Even from a distance, the flags of the Roem Knights were clearly recognizable.
“Why is the Imperial Army in the East…?”
Beirop muttered, his voice laced with bewilderment.
