Duchess Mecklen’s Elegant Revolt - Chapter 8 Part 4

“Keep your voice down. What if someone hears us from outside?” Evan cautioned, his tone calm but firm.

“Do you think the security here is that lax?”

“There’s always the ‘what if,’ isn’t there? Everyone thinks we don’t get along, so if anyone finds out we’re having tea together so amicably, it could cause problems for both of us.”

“Oh my, you worry too much.”

Caroline’s sharp tone remained, but her voice lowered slightly. Evan’s warning had planted a seed of concern, especially given how things had been going awry for her lately. She tossed her fan onto the table and picked up her teacup.

“How on earth did that fool Childe get caught?”

“That’s a good question.”

“Someone must have tipped them off; there’s no other way.”

The villa wasn’t easy to find. Though it was close to the palace, its small size made it unsuitable as a hunting ground, so it hadn’t been developed. Moreover, because it was so near the palace, commoners rarely ventured there, making it a perfect hideout. She had planned to keep him hidden there until things settled down, then send him abroad.

“They say Childe sneaked down to a village and drank himself silly.”

“What?”

“He stood out quite a bit among the commoners.”

“That wretched fool…!”

Finally grasping the situation, Caroline furrowed her brow. Childe’s love for alcohol had apparently been too strong to resist, even while he was on the run.

Furious, Caroline slammed her teacup down with a sharp clatter. “I never should have trusted him with this…!”

“What’s done is done. It’s all his own doing.” Evan watched Caroline’s anger with a faint smile, his eyes narrowing slightly, giving him an almost mocking look.

Caroline, not one to miss such subtle cues, immediately lashed out. “What’s with that smug look?”

“Your words are unusually harsh today, Madam.”

“How could they not be, with everything falling apart like this?”

Just when it seemed she might finally get the upper hand over the Ezesters. The chance to take down both Ezester and Eleanor in one fell swoop had slipped through her fingers, so it was no wonder Caroline was on edge.

To make matters worse, unknown observers had been spotted around her estate recently, heightening her anxiety.

Caroline ground her teeth. “Maybe I should just have him killed.”

“Who do you mean?”

“That idiot Childe. Wouldn’t it be better to nip this in the bud before he can say anything else?”

She had covered her tracks as thoroughly as possible, but one could never be too sure.

“He’ll probably only get a few years in prison, but who knows what evidence might come out before then? Ezester’s already disowned him… Wouldn’t it be easier to just get rid of him cleanly?”

Evan smiled at her suggestion. “He’s already a discarded piece. What if using poison leaves behind evidence? Eros can’t cover it completely now, so we need to be careful.”

Caroline’s heated thoughts began to cool as she considered Evan’s words. The blow to Eros had been an unforeseen complication. The Emperor had taken the stand as a witness in Eleanor’s case, turning what could have been dismissed as a trivial affair into a charge of treason against the imperial family. This had caused the carefully constructed public narrative to collapse.

“Do you know how much money it’ll take to rebuild that…?”

Caroline drained the rest of her tea, trying to soothe the bitterness rising in her chest. This fiasco had cost her dearly, leaving her with nothing but losses instead of the victory she had hoped for. As she seethed over the lost money, Evan remained calm and composed from start to finish.

Evan gently tried to calm her down again. “There’s nothing we can do now but keep things tight until the situation blows over.”

“I’ll rebuild the magazine to replace Eros myself.”

“…You, Madam?”

“Why? Do you have a problem with that?” Caroline’s tone was sharp, her words laced with an edge.

Rather than confronting her, Evan chose to back down. “No, that sounds like the best course of action.”

“Then give me 500 gold for this venture. I’ll handle the coins myself, so just leave them in the usual place.”

“……”

Evan knew that the amount spent to grow Eros had been precisely 215 gold and 67 silver. Yet here she was, asking for more than double that amount. It was nothing short of extortion.

“Isn’t that too much to use for a budget?”

“There’s something else as well.”

“And what might that be?” Evan wasn’t about to part with the money easily.

Caroline, annoyed by his reluctance, twitched her cheek in irritation. “You must have heard from Count Verdik? He said not to ask where the money I use goes, just to hand it over immediately.”

“……”

“Didn’t you understand?”

“Understood,” Evan replied reluctantly.

Only when she received his reluctant agreement did Caroline finally relax her previously scowling expression. The thought of starting over was frustrating, but they still had many resources at their disposal to see this through.

As Caroline set down her teacup and picked up her fan, Evan rose from his seat. “If our business is concluded, I’ll be going now.”

“Where are you off to?”

“It’s a personal matter.” Evan shrugged and made a light bow. “Do contact me again.”

“Sure.”

After hearing Caroline’s curt reply, Evan left the room. Once he was gone, the previously noisy room fell into silence. Alone, Caroline rested her chin on her hand, lost in thought.

Her gaze drifted to the teacup that had been in front of Evan. The tea remained untouched, only having been brought to his lips for show. As she stared at the cup, a small, doubtful voice escaped her lips.

“Could it be… that he’s the one who tipped off the authorities about Childe and is just pretending otherwise?”

***

Panello Palace.

A small space, no larger than a villa, dedicated to preserving the relics and mementos of past emperors. As one enters through the doorway, portraits of the emperors, from the first to the last before Lennoch, line the marble corridor.

Ernst, who had been studying each portrait as he walked, finally stopped at the end of the hall, standing before the portrait of Emperor Heinrich II. Unlike the other emperors, who were depicted seated on their thrones, staring directly ahead, Heinrich II’s portrait showed him riding a horse. The reason was simple: he had died before his official portrait could be painted, so a scene from his daily life had been used instead.

Ernst silently gazed at the painting. In his youth, Heinrich II’s appearance was similar to Lennoch’s, though Heinrich was more slight of build and had pale, watery eyes. Riding behind Heinrich II in the painting were two noblemen, one of whom was Ernst’s father, the late Duke of Mecklen, Sigmund.

“A guest was here before me, it seems.”

A gruff voice interrupted Ernst’s thoughts. Scolding himself for letting his guard down, Ernst quickly offered a slight bow. The man who had approached him was the Duke of Ezester. Standing beside Ernst, the Duke also directed his gaze at the painting.

“It’s still a tragedy,” the Duke muttered.

“……”

“If it hadn’t been for that accident…”

The Duke of Ezester’s eyes softened with a touch of sympathy as he spoke of the late emperor’s death. Heinrich II had died at a tragically young age, one of the most sudden and shocking deaths among the emperors. Who could have predicted that his horse would go wild and plunge off a cliff on the day he was returning to the palace after an inspection of the provinces? The late Duke of Mecklen, who had been with him that day, had also lost his life.

“It was the day His Majesty had made a wager,” the Duke continued. “He bet that the first to arrive would receive ten gold coins from each of us, and His Majesty was the winner.”

“……”

“I think he knew, even then, that we could never truly defeat him.”

The noblemen riding behind Heinrich II were the late Duke of Mecklen and the Duke of Ezester. As he recalled those days, the Duke of Ezester smiled bitterly.

“Your father was a remarkable man, too.”

Unsure of how to respond, Ernst remained silent, listening.

“Do you come here often?”

“…Occasionally,” Ernst replied, his eyes still fixed on the portrait.

It was a place he often visited when he had much on his mind. Though it had been half a year since his last visit, he had found himself returning here daily of late.

‘Eleanor.’

Ernst’s lips tightened. Though the scandal had been proven to be unrelated to her, Childe had been captured, and the honor of the Mecklen family had been restored, Ernst still felt adrift, uncertain of his footing. And at the center of his confusion was Eleanor.

His mind returned to the image of her standing on the debutante stage in a green dress, side by side with the Emperor.

‘Why does she keep occupying my thoughts?’

He felt a twinge of irritation.

“My apologies.”

The Duke of Ezester’s sudden, subjectless remark pulled Ernst from his thoughts, forcing him to bury the frustration deep in his chest.

“As the child’s father, I feel responsible as well. I’ve failed as a parent,” the Duke confessed, his tone filled with remorse.

Though their titles were the same, the Duke of Ezester was of an age with Ernst’s father. Receiving such an apology made Ernst feel awkward, and he quickly responded, “The gossip has been proven false, so there’s no point in discussing it further. The trial will determine the weight of his guilt, and the sentence will be sufficient punishment.”

“I’m glad you think that, but…” The Duke’s gaze shifted to the portrait of the late Duke of Mecklen standing behind Heinrich II. He continued, “I’m not sure I can hold back.”

“……?”

Ernst had heard that Childe’s name had been completely erased from the Ezester family. Stripped of his title, Childe could no longer be called a noble, and his life might well be worse than that of a commoner. Ernst had thought this punishment sufficient, but it seemed the Duke of Ezester was not yet satisfied.

“You know my younger brother, don’t you, Duke?”

“You mean Count Hudan?”

The Duke of Ezester’s younger brother preferred to be recognized by his independent title rather than sharing the family name.

The Duke let out a bitter smile. “Sometimes, when I look at my brother’s son, I can’t help but feel resentment toward Childe.”

“……”

“Why couldn’t my own child turn out like that?”

Ernst couldn’t bring himself to offer words of comfort. Even from his perspective, Childe was a disappointment. The fact that Childe had committed such an act for money made the Duke’s lament all the more understandable.

“There probably isn’t another noble who put as much effort into their child’s education as I did. Duke, do you remember when I asked you to teach him swordsmanship?”

“Yes, I remember.”

“He gave it up because he had no talent for it, but I spared no effort in supporting him in every possible way.”

The Duke of Ezester confided in Ernst, sharing thoughts he hadn’t voiced before, almost as if he were speaking to the late Duke of Mecklen in the portrait. A trace of bitterness lingered on the Duke’s lips.

“But I swear, I never once spoiled him. When he did wrong, I reprimanded him severely and disciplined him.”

Where had it all gone wrong? The Duke wanted to ask Childe why he had gone astray, why he had constantly defied expectations. All he had ever wanted was something simple: for Childe to live an ordinary life, like everyone else.

Count Hudan’s eldest son had entered the academy later than Childe but had never missed being at the top of his class. The second son of Count Hudan was not only skilled in martial arts but also had a talent for art, so much so that teachers in both fields competed to teach him.

Yet, despite his cousins’ success, Childe had not even managed to live an ordinary life. He had never achieved the top honors he so desperately wanted and had barely managed to earn his diploma. The messes Childe created had become increasingly difficult to clean up, and now the Duke of Ezester had reached his limit.

With a deep sigh, the Duke spoke again, “If, after the trial, he somehow manages to be released…”

Childe had chosen a path of no return, completely shattering the bond of trust between father and son. It was an absolute betrayal, and the Duke’s anger was genuine.

“I’m considering crippling him.”

“……!”

“I plan to make sure he can never walk on two legs again.”

Ernst froze, turning to look at the Duke in shock. The words didn’t sound like a joke; the gravity of the statement was undeniable.

“This is the punishment that must be delivered by a father who has been betrayed.”

The Duke’s gaze remained fixed on the portrait of the late Duke of Mecklen.

Ernst hesitated before asking, his voice careful, “Must you really go that far?”

He understood that the Duke’s rage was justified, given how the Ezester family had become a laughingstock because of Childe’s actions. But to go so far as to cripple him seemed too extreme—even for a son who had committed such a betrayal.

The Duke finally tore his gaze from the painting and looked directly at Ernst. His voice was calm, almost serene, as he replied,

“He is no longer my family.”