Ch#82
82
“How could that ever be the case?!”
The man hunched his massive shoulders, putting on an exaggeratedly fearful expression.
“How could I ever dare oppose the future ruler of the East!”
Barcas quietly studied the man’s face before bringing his wine glass to his lips without a word. When he didn’t immediately rise to the provocation, the man seemed to lose some of his zest.
Wiping the comical look from his face, the man spoke with a low growl.
“However, I am a bit curious. Just what was the Young Family Head thinking, betraying the First Princess and taking on the Imperial Family’s greatest nuisance?”
A heavy silence settled over the hall.
Moving only his eyes, Barcas scanned the faces of the nobles lined up along the long table.
The loyalists of the family, those who resided in Kalmore—the heart of the East—and served as the hands and feet of the Shearkan family, looked displeased.
However, the local lords were watching his reaction with evaluating gazes. It seemed they were trying to judge whether the young heir of the Grand Duchy was a man to whom they could entrust the future of the East.
He lightly swirled the wine in his glass, letting a deliberate pause hang in the air before he finally spoke.
“Betrayal… that’s quite an exaggeration. As everyone knows, my engagement to her was formed out of political interests. When circumstances shift, the nature of those interests can change as well.”
“And just what exactly has changed?”
The veins on the man’s forehead bulged.
“Are you saying a few words from His Imperial Majesty are serious enough to break a promise held for years?”
“Then, do you consider a command issued by the ruler of the Empire to be a trivial thing?”
Barcas tilted his head and countered with a question. As if suddenly struck dumb, the man’s thick lips clamped shut. His face, covered in a black beard, flushed red. Glaring at Barcas, he sneered loudly.
“Well, that is some impressive loyalty! A lowly man like myself wouldn’t dare dream of imitating it!”
“Lord Gutban, I believe you are becoming overly excited.”
A middle-aged nobleman sitting opposite him tried to intervene cautiously.
But the man didn’t even pretend to listen. He grabbed a goblet full of wine, drained it in one gulp, and wiped his mouth roughly with his sleeve before continuing.
“But the day will come when even our great Emperor must step down. Then, His Highness the Crown Prince will become the ruler of this Empire. What do you intend to do then? Do you think His Highness will graciously accept the loyalty of the East?”
“This marriage is something the Crown Prince agreed to as well.”
Barcas spoke slowly, tilting his glass to see his reflection in the red liquid.
“No. Later on, he was the one pushing for it even more actively.”
“What on earth does that mean…?”
“Let’s just say that this marriage provided a certain level of benefit to the Crown Prince as well.”
He cut the man off coldly.
“It is not my place to go about chattering of the Imperial Family’s private shames, is it?”
A look of suspicion spread across the faces of the nobles. His words could be interpreted to mean that he held some leverage over the Crown Prince. Barcas watched them exchange glances, then spoke in a lighter tone to shift the atmosphere.
“If your curiosity has been satisfied to some extent, let us bring this pleasant conversation to a close.”
With that, he raised his glass and slowly looked around the room.
“Now, everyone, drink up. As Gutban said, is this not the wine the future Grand Duke of the East received as a reward for seventeen years of loyalty?”
The corners of Barcas’s mouth curled up. He brought the glass close to his face as if savoring the aroma and added nonchalantly:
“When else will you ever get to taste such a delicacy?”
The nobles, their eyes darting around as if unsure how to react, eventually raised their glasses with awkward laughter. It was clear they all wanted to stop the verbal sparring at this point.
However, the man seemed to have no intention of backing down. He slammed his fist, like a steel hammer, onto the table and shouted.
“How can we believe such a thing?! The whole Empire knows how much the Crown Prince dotes on the First Princess. There is no way such a man would make a decision that tramples on Her Highness’s honor!”
The smile vanished from Barcas’s lips. His patience was finally reaching its limit with this man who refused to listen to reason.
He leaned his head back against his chair and jerked his chin, signaling for the man to continue. The man didn’t hesitate to pour out more words.
“Do you know what rumors are circulating right now? That even the heir of the East has fallen for the witch of the Taren family! Just as the Emperor was deceived by that venomous woman and betrayed the Empress, the next Grand Duke of Shearkan has been bewitched by her daughter and betrayed the virtuous First Princess! Such talk is spreading across the entire Empire!”
The last part was practically a roar. His booming voice filled the hall.
“If the First Princess follows in the footsteps of Empress Bernadette, how do you intend to atone for that sin?!”
“I’ve listened long enough, and there’s no end to this!”
Unable to stand it any longer, Daren Dru Shearkan jumped into the conversation.
“Alec Gutban, you are a vassal of the Grand Ducal family! Do you think such behavior toward the heir of the Shearkans will be tolerated here in Raedgo Castle?!”
“When a leader steps onto the wrong path, it is the duty of the vassals to raise their voices in criticism!”
The man shouted boldly back at Daren, then turned his eyes toward Barcas again.
“The Young Family Head could have made the First Princess—whom the entire Empire adores—the mistress of the East! And yet, you brought home a mere illegitimate girl, a woman of pure evil, as your bride. How can we just stand by and let this happen…!”
The man, who had been screaming, suddenly stopped. Barcas, who had been looking down at him as if watching a ridiculous play, also froze.
A small figure, wearing a flowing hood pulled low over their head, had approached the bear-like man from behind. They tilted a wine bottle over his large head and poured the blood-red liquid out in a torrent.
The sound of sharp intakes of breath echoed throughout the hall at the sudden turn of events.
The victim himself seemed so stunned by the assault that he couldn’t react immediately. After getting thoroughly soaked in wine with a dazed expression, the man finally bolted upright once the bottle was empty.
His massive frame, nearly seven kvehts (about 210 cm) tall, loomed ominously over the uninvited guest hidden in the robe.
“What madman would do such a thing…!”
The man twisted the intruder’s wrist and yanked off the hood covering their head. As he did, long tresses of hair that had been tucked inside spilled out like a golden waterfall, overwhelming his vision.
The man’s body froze, his fist still raised as if he were about to strike her face.
The woman shot a venomous glare through her disheveled hair.
As if electrocuted by that intense gaze, the man trembled slightly and swallowed hard. His pitch-black pupils flowed over the woman’s face like sticky tar.
Barcas, who had been gripping his goblet hard enough to crush it, stood up immediately. As he stepped up behind her and pulled her slender body into his arms, the man instinctively tightened his grip on the woman’s wrist, as if refusing to let her go.
In an instant, something stirred deep within Barcas. He looked down at the dark hand holding her with a shadowy gaze.
The man was still staring at her with entranced eyes, his gaze licking over every inch of her face. A sharp chill crawled up Barcas’s spine. His eyes narrowed at the strange sensation of his blood turning cold, when suddenly, a sound like a whip striking a horse rang out.
The man looked down at the woman with bewildered eyes. He looked as if he couldn’t comprehend what had just happened.
She raised her arm and struck his wine-soaked face once more.
“How dare you put your filthy hands on me.”
Only then did the man snap out of it, releasing her wrist and taking a step back.
