“What is it, Boris?”
Franz asked, forcing down his anger.

“There’s something I need to say.”

“Make it brief.”

Boris stepped forward and came to a stop beside Julian.

Wolf felt an inexplicable sense of unease. What on earth was he about to say?

Boris had always been exceptionally perceptive, and he never did anything that might irritate Franz. In other words, the very fact that he had chosen to step into the middle of a situation like this—when Franz was in a towering rage—was already out of character for him. Under normal circumstances, no matter how serious the matter, he would have waited until at least the next day.

Don’t tell me….

A chill crept lightly up the back of Wolf’s neck.

Then Boris opened his mouth.

“Father, would you not consider forgiving Julian—just this once?”

Franz’s eyes narrowed.

“What did you say?”

Wolf nearly echoed the same words aloud. He stared at Boris, utterly taken aback.

“Up until now, Julian has never once disappointed you, Father. As the heir of the ducal house, he has consistently lived up to every expectation placed upon him. Taking that into account, wouldn’t it be possible to overlook a single lapse in judgment?”

“…….”

Julian remained silent, his expression unreadable.

“Boris—what nonsense are you spouting, barging in like this? Step back. I have no desire to hear such talk right now.”

“Your anger is entirely justified, Father. Julian’s actions today were unquestionably irresponsible. Still… I believe I can understand how Julian feels.”

“Understand him?”

“Yes. Up to now, Julian has never once made a decision of his own volition. He has done nothing but follow the path you laid out for him, Father. But marriage is a matter of a lifetime, is it not? No one could willingly spend their entire life with someone they do not want. I, too, am a married man—I understand that sentiment.”

“…….”

The hard line of Franz’s mouth softened slightly.

Boris and his wife, Mathilde, had been joined through a thoroughly political marriage. Mathilde’s natal family, the House of Steinmark, were border counts who commanded considerable military power—no family Franz could afford to disregard.

At the time, Boris had been in love with another woman. But Franz had refused to permit a marriage to a young lady from such an insignificant house. Without protest, Boris had ended things with his lover and married Mathilde, in accordance with Franz’s wishes.

Since marrying Boris, Mathilde had suffered from chronic illness. She had borne no children, and spent most of her days confined to bed, unable to properly fulfill even the basic duties expected of a duchess.

Coming from a man like Boris, these words were not something Franz could simply brush aside.

Coming from Boris, it wasn’t something Franz could simply brush aside.

“Moreover, didn’t Julian once have an engagement that ended in annulment? It’s possible he still hasn’t been able to forget his former fiancée. If you think of it that way, even today’s impulsive behavior becomes somewhat understandable.”

At those words, a chill ran down Wolf’s spine.

So he does know something…?

With his throat going dry, Wolf looked at Boris. Julian, however, still showed no sign of emotional disturbance whatsoever.

Franz silently drew on his cigar.

In truth, he found Boris’s reasoning itself absurd. When Julian had broken off his engagement with Karin, he had been the one to step forward and devise the plan. And now he supposedly hadn’t been able to forget her? Nonsense. Julian was not the sort of man to grow attached to women in the first place.

Which was precisely why today’s incident was all the more baffling.

Unless there was another woman he had feelings for—and even if there were—causing such a scene on the very day of the wedding was something Franz simply could not comprehend.

Still, Boris’s sudden intervention had undeniably taken the edge off Franz’s blazing anger. If not Julian, then Boris certainly had loved a woman once. He had severed that relationship—forced him to marry another woman, and that decision had been Franz’s.

Of course, Franz had never felt particularly guilty about it. He himself had entered into a political marriage, leaving behind the woman he truly loved, Annemarie. And yet, it was Annemarie who ultimately bore him his heir. He still met with her regularly, even now.

But Boris, despite having no chance of inheriting the ducal title, had remained faithful to his wife alone for ten years.

If that was the result of quietly carrying out the role Franz had assigned him… then it wasn’t that Franz felt no pity at all.

Franz slowly exhaled a stream of smoke.

“Your concern for your younger brother is… quite commendable. For your sake, we’ll leave it at this for today.”

“Thank you, Father.”

“…Thank you.”

Boris and Julian bowed to Franz, one after the other, a slight delay between them.

“However, do not think this ends here. Julian, you are confined for the time being. Submit a written statement with reasons sufficient to satisfy me. Unless you convince me, there will be no annulment of your engagement to Countess Gleissner’s daughter. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Father.”

He was exhausted. Come to think of it, it had been an unbearably long day.

With a wave of his hand, Franz dismissed them.

Once they were outside the room, Julian bowed his head toward Boris.

“Thank you, Brother.”

“No need. As I told Father, I understand your feelings well enough. Think carefully before making your decision—so you don’t end up regretting it later, like I did.”

With a faint smile, Boris patted Julian on the shoulder.

“…Yes. I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Good. You must be tired—go get some rest.”

Boris waved a hand as he walked away.

This is probably the best outcome I could have hoped for.

When he had stepped into that room just moments ago, he could have exposed everything.

Why Julian had disappeared on the eve of the ceremony—what he had been doing all this time—he could have laid it all bare.

But that would have been a misstep.

The original plan had been to expose only Julian and Karin’s tryst, without revealing Boris’s own involvement. The decisive moment had already passed, and Karin was no longer in his hands. To reveal the truth now would be little different from directly telling Julian that Boris was the one behind Karin’s abduction.

In that case, it was far better to cast a smokescreen like this instead.

Julian’s position as heir was still solid. It was too early for Boris to step into the open.

Still… how does one manage to lose the woman like that?

Anger flared again at his subordinates’ incompetence. Boris clenched his jaw, steadying his breath as he forced the emotion down.

Even so, this affair had not been a complete waste.

He had discovered that Julian did, in fact, have a clear weakness.

He hadn’t expected Julian to care for Karin so deeply that he would abandon his own wedding. It was almost unbelievable—yet to Boris, it was an invaluable revelation.

Even now, his men were still searching for Karin. Finding her before Julian would be ideal—but even if they failed, it didn’t matter.

Now that he knew Karin was Julian’s sore spot, there were countless ways to strike at it.

For now, it was enough to wait in the shadows.

Just as Boris always had.

***

Julian walked toward his study with a rigid expression. Wolf and the rest of the secretaries hurried after him.

“Karin?”

The moment he entered the study, Julian asked Wolf.

“There’s been no report yet.”

“And the kidnappers who escaped?”

“It seems the officers who pursued them ultimately lost their trail. We’ve obtained their descriptions and are conducting a separate search on our end. The scene itself has already been cleaned up.”

The sight that greeted them when they arrived at the Rosenquai residence later was nothing short of horrific. Not only the guards Julian had stationed there, but even the steward and the maids—every single one of them had been killed.

The moment he saw it, it felt as though all the blood in his body drained straight out through his feet.

The shock was severe enough that it wouldn’t have been strange if he’d lost his mind. In fact, his memories from around that time were hazy. By the time he came back to himself, he was already gone from the scene.

The one small mercy—if it could be called that—was that it didn’t seem Karin had been carried off after all.