The butler’s voice broke through the silence filling the study.

“Master, the Duchess has arrived.”

This meant Fabiana, who had arrived in the capital two days ago, had come to see him. After putting the scattered documents in a drawer, Andert responded with a slight delay.

“…Show her in.”

As soon as he answered, the elderly lady entered in impeccable attire.

“I’ll take my leave. Please speak freely.”

Daniel bowed and quickly closed the door before disappearing.

Andert gave a short bow before taking a seat on the sofa. Fabiana Dietrich, who already knew that Chloe was no longer in the capital, had previously advised her son calmly.

“What is happening with House Hardin? How long will you leave House Dietrich unattended for such matters?”

That was all. Though Fabiana showed signs of displeasure, she didn’t say more.

Andert silently observed Fabiana with her snow-white hair neatly styled up. He knew well what that look in her eyes meant. Those dark eyes didn’t miss even the slightest change in expression, seeking to find any weakness.

In the silence as they watched each other, Fabiana spoke first.

“I plan to take the morning train tomorrow. When did Chloe say she would return from Hanover? The anniversary of Viscountess Hardin’s death must have passed by now.”

“Chloe will return soon.”

Andert answered briefly, loosening his tight throat. He didn’t want to make the situation more complicated here. To achieve that, he needed to act as if nothing was wrong.

He wanted to prevent news of Chloe’s disappearance from spreading. After all, she would return here eventually. Despite the frustration rising in his throat, Andert tried not to show any weakness.

However, Fabiana’s keen eye, honed over many years, didn’t miss the subtle agitation.

“Are you sure nothing is wrong?”

“Yes. Should something be wrong?”

“You and your personality…”

But when he deflected so naturally, the Duchess shook her head.

Soon, her pitch-black eyes flashed sharply. She was the first to remove the mask she had been conscious of throughout. It might be a face even Roman, who had guarded the mansion all his life, wouldn’t know, but it was very familiar to Andert.

It was the moment when this woman, born into royalty and living as a Duchess since marriage, showed her true face. He could predict what would come next.

“This is why birth matters. Dignity and refinement aren’t learned, they’re inherited. It’s unfortunate that you’ll never have them, no matter how hard you try.”

“……”

This was a repertoire Andert had heard countless times since he could understand words. By now, he could passively receive such criticism that he could recite without missing a single syllable. Only his eyes, cold enough to freeze, stared at the woman before him.

Half-Dietrich.

The name Fabiana had given him was quite fitting. Though his father was Duke Dietrich, the mother who bore him wasn’t Fabiana.

Andert learned this fact on his sixth birthday.

“Would you like to know who your real mother is?”

Fabiana asked kindly in the hall where grand party preparations had been completed. It was a moment when everyone had been dismissed before the guests arrived.

At that moment, he was so deceived by the gentleness in her voice that he didn’t even grasp the meaning of her words. That very day, Andert learned the secret of his birth.

“Today isn’t actually your real birthday. Six years ago, when I heard that another woman was pregnant with my husband’s child, I had to make a choice. My inability to conceive ultimately became my downfall.”

Her words were too complex and difficult for a six-year-old to understand. It wasn’t until years later that Andert could comprehend the full meaning of those words.

Fabiana waited for the child to be born in Daloa, not Artion where it would be difficult to deceive people’s eyes. Simultaneously, she spread rumors about her own pregnancy. A year later, when she returned to Artion with her son, no one doubted their relationship. Not even Roman, who was responsible for all affairs of the Duke’s household.

Andert was the spitting image of Duke Dietrich with his dazzling blonde hair and blue eyes. He was quite the contrast to Fabiana with her black hair and eyes of the same color. Even the sharp-eyed noble ladies of society would casually joke about how he didn’t resemble his mother.

Andert couldn’t even remember how that birthday party passed. But the pile of presents he had been so eager to open no longer held any interest. At the same time, his birthday, which came only once a year, became a day he no longer looked forward to.

But one thing he learned for certain.

Fabiana had been counting down the days. The very day when Andert could understand and remember most words. He finally understood why she would occasionally look at him with ice-cold eyes.

“Philip, sitting on the throne, used that fact well as leverage. Hah, the man who even dared to place that worthless Chloe in this mansion has finally left this world. He must be suffering in hellfire now.”

Fabiana smiled coldly while fanning herself.

Andert’s birth was a secret that couldn’t possibly leak out except to those directly involved. After all, it had been thoroughly hushed up in Daloa, where her family was royalty.

But Philip, the King of Artion who was said to collect nobles’ weaknesses, learned of this fact. The king, who held this fatal weakness, pressured House Dietrich at appropriate times. Not only did he push for ridiculous marriage arrangements, but it was also Philip who ordered Andert to cross over to Daloa.

“His intention must have been to check the Daloan royal family while simultaneously curbing Dietrich’s power.”

Fabiana snorted.

Artion and Daloa were allied nations sharing a border and intertwined with complex marriage ties. Nevertheless, the nobles of Artion who didn’t know the inside story were puzzled. Then all sorts of rumors began to circulate. It was natural, as the newly married groom had gone abroad and hadn’t returned for two years.

Watching her mockery, Andert was sick of the whole situation.

Would Philip be the only one falling into hellfire? You too, and me as well.

Though disgusting, the chances of facing Fabiana even in hell’s pit were high. Her following suggestion grated on his already sharp nerves.

“I hear Patrick will soon arrive in Artion. Let’s all have a meal together that day.”

It was a gentle voice that didn’t match the previous situation. The reason was entirely because of Patrick. Fabiana’s only nephew. The person she kept pushing forward to pressure Andert.

It seems she’s called Patrick in, planning to manipulate the whole situation again. An undisguised sneer appeared on Andert’s lips.

“Have you finished speaking?”

At this suggestion to leave, Fabiana’s eyes grew fierce. Setting down her fan with an audible tap, she leaned in close.

“Remember that although you’re responsible for House Dietrich’s practical affairs, you haven’t yet secured the title and duchy.”

“How could I forget that fact? Especially when you’ve personally called Patrick to Artion.”

Andert slowly countered, deciding no longer to ignore the fight his opponent had started. Until now, he didn’t want to engage in verbal sparring while his head was complicated with Chloe’s matter.

She responded as if she had been waiting for this.

“Then you must know well. That Patrick still has the qualification to become the master of House Dietrich.”

Ha. Andert laughed at the counterattack he had expected.

Right. How could I not know? You’re the one who took in your orphaned nephew as an adopted son of House Dietrich and volunteered to be his guardian.

Fabiana’s plan to push him aside and place her nephew in his position seemed still valid. And the person who knew and condoned all this was none other than his father, Duke Dietrich.

Andert met her gaze. The black eyes showing clear traces of age made no attempt to hide their hostility and wariness. Or perhaps it was contempt and anger accumulated over many years.

Either way, it didn’t matter. Andert lifted one corner of his mouth.

Over time, he too had learned something from Fabiana. Regardless of his true feelings, he could smile in front of someone if he chose to do so.

“As you well know, Mother, how could Patrick possibly be my competitor?”

It was an answer that didn’t match his face that was wearing a picture-perfect smile. For a moment, Fabiana’s wrinkled eyes twitched slightly.

Without dropping his upturned lips, he added,

“I’m not free enough to deal with someone who can’t even manage his own affairs.”

“Mind your words. Patrick, who has Daloan royal blood flowing through his veins, is fundamentally different from you.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes. That’s a fact that won’t change no matter how much time passes.”

Fabiana retorted without backing down, holding her chin high. But despite her blatant contempt, her opponent appeared leisurely.

She knew it too. Though she cherished and loved her nephew dearly, his abilities didn’t even reach Andert’s knees. The half-Dietrich was no longer the six-year-old child who had feared her. Still, Fabiana held her head high.

At that moment, Andert, who had been maintaining eye contact, slightly tilted his chin. His attitude suggested it didn’t matter either way.

“Will you vacate this space now? This is, after all, my private space.”