The Trash Lady Who Stole the Duke's First Night
Chapter 4
The night before the storm rattled the windows, bright lights illuminated the banquet hall of Count Aquitaine’s estate for the first time in ages.
“Bwahaha! I wonder if Southern cuisine suits your palate. If it is not enough, speak up at any time. Drink all the wine you want, as well! After all, isn't the subjugation entirely finished now? Inviting you all here brings me joy I haven't felt in a long time.”
With a broad, greasy smile plastered across his face, the Count poured a cheap vintage right to the brim of Carlos’s glass.
A lone servant was left carrying dozens of dishes back and forth. Even as the knights who had yet to receive their meal let out fierce sighs, the Count remained completely oblivious to it all, focusing solely on Carlos.
The knights chewed and swallowed the shriveled mushroom appetizer and the pork offal disguised as steak as if grinding down rubber.
Watching their commander eat silently before the lady, they struggled to suppress their fiery tempers.
“No, but really—whatever made you think of coming all the way down South for a subjugation? Once again, I am struck with admiration for Lobitan’s dedication to defending the Empire! Our Aquitaine soldiers also dedicate all their strength to guarding our territory, you know. Southern nobles and Northern nobles truly share so much in common! Bwahaha!”
The Count dropped to informal speech without the slightest hesitation. He had the brazen nerve to compare Aquitaine’s peasant levies to Lobitan without a hint of shame.
Carlos merely stared straight ahead through the uproarious laughter.
A woman sat as quietly as a framed portrait hung upon the wall.
Beneath the chandelier, her smooth blonde hair tumbled in soft waves and her translucent skin shone, but such sights stirred nothing in Carlos.
His calm gaze had been fixed on the woman’s small hands all along.
“Hehehe. To think you wiped out everything from an Evil Dragon to first-class monsters! Aquitaine was actually going to sweep them all away tomorrow, but you arrived at the perfect time!”
The Count swung his arms around in wide whooshes, mimicking the beasts.
“Aren't those bastards enormous? Just bringing a hand down like this would crush a man’s skull instantly! I have faced my fair share of them myself! I should have fought alongside you this time. Bwahahaha!”
Every time the Count swung his arm, the woman flinched throughout her entire body, her hands trembling violently.
It was no coincidence. She had done so five times in just twenty minutes, and she was doing it now. It seemed a purely conditioned reflex.
Carlos’s eyes narrowed.
……Was she raised under the fist?
Though no visible wounds were exposed, she was the textbook portrait of an abuse victim.
With a cool, sunken gaze, he scanned the length of her body.
Her fair hands lacked a single callus, and her slender frame seemed to have no muscle whatsoever. A body that looked as if it had never once held a sword.
Swordsmanship aside, he doubted whether such a frail frame could even run properly. It was like looking at a delicate, fragile critter that might die from the slightest impact.
On top of that, her threadbare attire, devoid of a single piece of jewelry, laid her plight bare for all to see.
Skrrrk. His grip on his knife tightened. The bones on the back of his hand stood out stark and white.
The daughter of Yunus and Valentin, the continent's greatest swordmasters—reduced to such a pitiful state.
To think she lived an abused life, unable to even wield a blade.
“Bwahahaha. I wish to personally commend your valor. It is thanks to you all that our Lübeck Empire remains at peace. You have all worked so hard! This is precisely what makes a knight’s life rewarding, is it not?”
At the haughty words of a mere fallen count from the provinces putting on airs like a king, the knights’ faces visibly hardened.
Amid the heavy silence kept by Carlos and dozens of his knights, only the Count’s laughter echoed loudly through the banquet hall.
“Indeed, marrying off my daughter to such a valiant, noble… knight is my final wish as a father. And a dragon slayer who subdued an Evil Dragon, no less! I simply cannot hide my admiration at such astounding news.”
The Count curled the corners of his mouth like a slimy serpent and looked at Elio. Broken blood vessels spiderwebbed through his eyes from nights lost to gambling.
“Our Elio goes weak in the knees for a splendid knight, too. Especially the Young Duke—she has always admired him so much…. Isn't that right, Elio?”
Elio stopped cutting the pork offal. Blinking a few times, she slowly lifted her head. She met Carlos’s eyes across the table.
She looked into his eyes with irises holding the clear sky and the sea, then quickly lowered her gaze toward his jaw.
“I have never admired him, though.”
Carlos arched a brow crookedly.
Unlike her shivering hands, the woman’s voice was clear and unshakeable. Her face was the spitting image of Yunus, and that sullen expression was Valentin through and through.
“Elio!!”
His composure cracked, the Count clenched his fist and barked.
Straightening her posture with downcast eyes, Elio continued.
“Seeing you in person is truly marvelous. It is an honor to meet… the Dragon Slayer.”
Elio pulled her chin back slightly, offering a respectful bow.
Watching the woman stubbornly avert her eyes, Carlos was momentarily at a loss for words.
…Is she reckless or just timid?
“You flatter me. I am pleased to hear it is an honor.”
Though his frosty gaze was far from pleased, the Count paid no mind to such trivial details.
“Sir, drop the formalities. Are you not six years her senior? Speak casually and comfortably with each other, like siblings. How often do a Southern noble and a Northern noble cross paths like this! Hahaha.”
Emphasizing the word ‘noble’ with every sentence, the Count seized Elio’s shoulder.
“Elio. Are you keeping quiet out of concern for etiquette? You must treat him like an older brother first so Sir Carlos can feel comfortable around you, no? Hmm?”
The rough, bruising force in the Count’s grip was plainly visible.
“Please, speak comfortably.”
“…Very well.”
Carlos calmly regarded Elio’s trembling hands and her reddened shoulder.
❖ ❖ ❖
Inside Carlos’s bedchamber in the main building of the Aquitaine estate, the faces of those gathered were grim.
“Commander. Is that woman really the daughter of Yunus and Valentin? Shouldn't we investigate again?”
Lobitan’s vice-commander, Toby, who kept a shaggy beard like a mountain bandit, slammed his fist on the table and yelled.
Remembering Elio only as a three-year-old toddler, he could not hide his bewilderment. She had been small as a baby too, but he had assumed she would take after her parents and grow into a towering knight.
Yet meeting the child again after seventeen years, she had grown into a lady so frail she looked ready to collapse at a tap.
“I find it hard to believe myself, but it is true. It is certain that the Count and Countess of Aquitaine adopted the young lady when she was small.”
Leon, the long-haired wizard, took off his glasses as he answered, while Carlos stared quietly at the golden lantern flame, lost in thought.
“Hey, but can someone really take after their parents that little?”
“Her face appears identical to her father, Yunus, however….”
“Yunus and Valentin were the size of water buffaloes! That woman looks like she'd drop dead just making eye contact with a monster! Dammit, did Valentin have an affair? How on earth could Valentin produce a daughter like that?”
Even Leon had to agree. The young lady named Elio was like a tiny forget-me-not blooming by a brook.
Leon pressed his fingers against his temples, exhaustion etched into his features.
“Commander. What will you do? Shall we proceed with the plan? Or should we investigate once more?”
“We proceed with the plan.”
Carlos spoke in a low voice.
“Even if she isn't a lion….”
“I have never admired him, though.”
The memory of that sullen face, speaking so clearly while her hands shook uncontrollably, came to mind. A scoff escaped him.
“What choice is there, even if she's just a little rabbit?”
Leon furrowed his brow and let out a sigh.
“At this rate, if the Empress sends an assassin, won't she die in an instant? It seems we'll need to arrange a separate guard detail.”
“Ha! That's why I'm saying we should switch to another woman! She needs to at least not be a liability, but she looks like she'll swoon at the drop of a hat!”
At Toby’s dissatisfied shout, one corner of Carlos’s lip tugged upward.
The bastard son of the Emperor and the Duchess.
A man whose very existence was a threat to the imperial succession. The path he walked had always been paved with blood.
Carlos had no intention whatsoever of dragging something fragile along his bloody path.
Yet. A rabbit, was it….
Leaning back into the sofa, Carlos spoke calmly.
“All that matters is getting out of the marriage with the Imperial Princess.”
She might not be a lion, but what of it? An isolated territory at the southern edge, and the adopted daughter of Count Aquitaine—a man blind to current affairs and drowning in gambling debts beyond his means.
She was the most fitting woman to frame as the one who dared throw herself upon a man betrothed to the Imperial Princess.
The Papal Faction’s choice of this pitiful woman as bait to ruin his reputation had been quite reasonable. And his decision to ride all the way south despite seeing through their scheme was just as right.
For she could be used to block the marriage to the Imperial Princess.
Furthermore, since she was the daughter of Valentin—who had tried to kill him—he felt not the slightest guilt over using her as a fiancée and casting her aside.
Though the fact that the only daughter of the great swordmasters Yunus and Valentin was a rabbit rather than a lion….
…was entirely unexpected….
……What was that child like at three years old?
He searched his faded memories.
The baby who had vanished without a trace seventeen years ago after both Valentin and Yunus died had grown up entirely unlike his expectations.
“Dammit. I think the Emperor is the craziest of all. Knowing full well the Commander is his own flesh and blood, ordering him to marry the Imperial Princess? What kind of sick madness is this?”
Unable to contain his frustration, Toby scratched roughly at the nape of his neck.
“Historically, marriages between imperial half-siblings have occurred on occasion. Do you think hereditary diseases from consanguineous marriages exist for no reason?”
“Am I trying to debate history right now? Common sense, man! It defies common sense!”
“Publicly, it is a sensible decision. Is it not a union between the Imperial Princess and the Young Duke?”
“No, that's why I'm saying it's in—”
“Enough.”
Carlos gave a slight flick of his hand.
Leon closed his mouth for a moment, then narrowed his eyes.
“Commander. Could it be that the Aquitaine lady simply never learned swordsmanship as a child?”
“Do you think Valentin had some elite training from birth? Besides, her frame isn't built to swing a sword at all. Tsk. Hopeless.”
“Just in case, let us test her. Her speed or reflexes might be innate.”
“Right, sure. We'd be lucky if she even knows how to hop.”
“We need to test her nerve, at the very least. It will be problematic if she swoons at the sight of blood, collapses at the sight of a monster, and stays sickly day in and day out.”
Sinking deep into the sofa, Carlos rolled up his sleeves.
Indeed, it would be troublesome if she passed out just from seeing a little blood. How could he keep her by his side then?
Still, did that rabbit even know how to hop?
Would she at least run for her life when faced with a beast…?
His calm gaze, fixed on his sword, slowly drifted toward the window.
“When we pass through the Ogre Mountain Range. We will find out with an ogre.”
Outside the window, ink-black clouds blanketed the sky as if preparing to unleash a deluge.
“……She ought to at least know how to hop.”
Drip.
Patter.
Whoosh.
The rope hanging from the wall began to soak in the rain.
