Gustav sent Leonhardt ahead and immediately turned his carriage toward the scene.

Fortunately, the fire wasn’t large and was quickly contained.

Gustav left his aide to finish handling the situation and rushed at full speed to the ballroom.

But perhaps he was too late. The doorkeeper appeared slightly flustered upon seeing him and didn’t announce his entrance. Soon after, the chief chamberlain came out and quietly escorted him to the Emperor.

He quickly realized this wasn’t simply a matter of being late. His years of experience set off warning bells, but they stopped the moment he saw Daphne standing beside the Emperor.

A faint ringing persisted in his ears.

The Emperor’s face was full of mischief, as if she found the situation immensely entertaining. This was typical of her, so he paid it no mind.

In truth, even if the Emperor caught him at fault, he wasn’t greatly concerned. To Gustav, she was someone he could always defend against and manage.

The problem was Daphne.

To Gustav, Daphne was like a clear lake—pure and clean, with everything inside visible.

But now, he could read nothing from her expression. Normally, with the Leonhardt situation alone, she should have been teary-eyed upon meeting him, her face a mixture of resentment, hurt, and sadness.

Yet her utterly indifferent gaze made him feel as though he was facing a seasoned politician. Only then did he realize that her mention of breaking the engagement wasn’t spoken in anger.

Simultaneously, he regretted not seeking out Daphne earlier and handling things properly.

What could be more uncomfortable than a person whose emotions are completely unreadable?

“Duke, welcome.”

The Emperor greeted Gustav first as she observed his expression hardening while he walked in. She must have been eager.

After he paid his respects, the Emperor explained the situation.

“There have been some rather unfortunate incidents today. Daphne is here as the victim, so be aware of that.”

She then described Leonhardt’s outrageous behavior in great detail. The story, which seemed like it would continue endlessly like a teenage girl’s gossip, only concluded when Daphne gave a signal.

Gustav’s face turned ashen, moving beyond shame to utter devastation.

The Emperor smiled throughout, perhaps pleased to have cornered Leonhardt and Gustav, whom she considered thorns in her side.

She spoke to Gustav in the tone of a teacher disciplining a student.

“No matter what anyone says, I highly value the loyalty you’ve shown to the country all these years. No one can deny that. And I have not the slightest doubt that you will continue to assist me alongside Marquis Armin. Yes, absolutely.”

Despite Daphne’s repeated signals, the Emperor’s sarcasm was relentless.

“So I hope there won’t be any more leaks, inside or out. Can you manage that?”

The Emperor asked as if addressing someone much younger rather than a subject. Gustav bowed with a rigid expression.

Then he approached Daphne.

“My child, I’ve been too negligent. I’m truly sorry.”

He apologized sincerely with a dejected expression. But no formal response like “it’s alright” or “don’t worry about it” came back.

“Your Highness, I too regret how things have turned out. I hope the situation doesn’t worsen further and can be resolved in the best way for both of us.”

The purple eyes that had always smiled at him were now as dry as a desert.

‘The best way for both of us…’

It seemed there was no such way anymore.

Except perhaps being dragged along according to Werner’s wishes.

The Emperor shrugged and twisted the knife once more.

“I’ll handle the Kingdom of Lucia myself. So, Duke, please get your house in order. And don’t forget to report the results to me.”

Gustav couldn’t remember how he left the audience chamber.

Born as the second son, he had fiercely competed to inherit House Mücke and become Duke. Then, becoming the leader of the noble faction, he had run like a racehorse without rest.

Yet ironically, the greatest crisis of his life had been caused not by an enemy, but by family.

He was in no mood to enjoy the Founding Day festivities. Gustav gritted his teeth and left the banquet hall.

⁕⁕⁕

As Leonhardt had predicted, Gustav headed straight to his son’s room as soon as he returned to the mansion.

The servants who had come to greet him exchanged glances, and the head butler hurriedly followed behind Gustav. But the bedroom door slammed shut right in front of him.

As Gustav entered, Leonhardt rose from his desk. He put down the book he had been reading and approached, as if he had been waiting.

Gustav’s face looked ready to explode, but he didn’t shout. Without a word, he raised the cane he was holding high.

Leonhardt was markedly different from his usual self. As if prepared, he knelt down and made no attempt to avoid the descending cane.

Thwack!

Gustav’s cane landed on Leonhardt’s shoulder and broke in two. Though the broken piece spun away, Gustav continued swinging with the remaining piece.

For someone untrained in swordsmanship, this was the extent of his ability. Had it been Werner, the blow would have carried enough rage to kill Leonhardt in a single strike.

“How dare you! How could you… commit such an act!”

The cane fell indiscriminately on Leonhardt’s shoulders and head.

Yet Leonhardt remained motionless, taking each blow. Only when the remaining piece of the cane broke did Gustav stop.

He brushed back his disheveled hair and adjusted his rumpled clothes.

“Go down to the territory immediately. And…”

“I need to stay here.”

Leonhardt’s voice, interrupting the Duke, was remarkably calm.

Talking back in such a situation?

Just as Gustav was about to flare up again, he met Leonhardt’s unusual gaze. Only then did he realize Leonhardt remained in the exact same kneeling position as before.

Seeing this, Gustav’s hands trembled despite having just managed to calm his anger.

Who had caused him such humiliation…

Who had caused him such trouble…

Gustav wanted to scream and strangle Leonhardt right then.

But he couldn’t bring himself to kill him. Not because he was his son, but because he didn’t want such blood on his hands.

“Why do you think you need to stay? No one wants you here.”

“I’ll make them want me.”

Gustav snorted in disbelief.

“Do you have that ability? Daphne has completely made up her mind.”

“I can reverse it. If only you’ll help me, Father.”

That groundless arrogance. It reminded him so much of that person that his teeth chattered with rage.

Gustav barely relaxed his clenched jaw and spoke like he was uttering a curse.

“…Father? I hate it. I don’t want to do anything for you anymore.”

“Then, are you saying you wish to sever our father-son relationship?”

We would need to have one first to sever it.

Gustav laughed hollowly. Taking this as a positive response, Leonhardt held out an envelope.

Gustav wanted to throw it away immediately. He didn’t want to touch anything related to Leonhardt.

But this was something Leonhardt had endured a beating without flinching to deliver. If it was important enough to potentially resolve this situation…

Gustav reluctantly accepted the envelope.

“What is this?”

Inside were gold cufflink frames along with what looked like fragments of black stone.

“These are the cufflinks I’ve been wearing all this time. Anaïs gave them to me as a gift.”

Gustav trembled at the mere mention of Anaïs’s name. As he threw them to the floor, Leonhardt barely managed to catch them.

“Are you planning to offer them to Daphne as proof that you’ll no longer wear them? Do you think that will solve anything?”

As Gustav erupted again, Leonhardt swallowed dryly and spoke quietly.

“Father, I ask that you listen to me first. This could be the key to resolving everything.”

As Leonhardt intended, Gustav’s voice grew calmer in response. He closed his eyes firmly and commanded:

“Call me ‘Your Grace.'”

“What?”

“I hate being called Father by you, so call me ‘Your Grace.’ Then I’ll listen to whatever you have to say right now.”

Leonhardt bit his lip with a miserable expression. Then he corrected the form of address he had been using until just moments ago.

“Your Grace.”

This was more than a simple punishment.

“Originally, these stones were orange. And until just recently, they shone brilliantly and transparently like jewels.”

“So?”

“Today at the ballroom, they suddenly broke and changed like this.”

Yet Gustav showed no interest whatsoever. He only wanted to leave this place as quickly as possible.

Leonhardt sensed this. Regardless of Gustav’s reaction, he decided to simply relay the facts.

‘Surely he has reason to be interested.’

Leonhardt rose from his position and, limping slightly, walked to retrieve the book he had left on the desk.

“It’s a book about magic stones.”