“I was with the Marquis of Blante when the wound was inflicted. And it wasn’t an accident. The injury was caused by the dethroned Crown Prince, Chase, who in a drunken rage tried to kill the late Grand Duke Seyerd. And for a ridiculous reason – he drew his sword in broad daylight in the corridor of the Academy, simply because they had bumped into each other.”

Countess Forte paused, her brow furrowed for a moment at the memory, even after all these years. 

“On that day, the Marquis of Blante risked his life to stop Crown Prince Chase’s blade. At the time, Chase was the heir to the throne and the Grand Duke was a little-known prince. But the Marquis acted without hesitation.”

“……” 

“The Marquis said he had only one thought in his mind: that regardless of his position, the Grand Duke was a prince of the Pentium Empire. As a loyal servant of the Imperial Family, he was willing to risk his life to protect him.”

“How am I supposed to believe that? My father never said anything like that.”

“Of course he didn’t. The late Emperor covered it up to protect Crown Prince Chase’s position. If the truth had come out – that the heir to the throne had nearly killed another prince over something so trivial – it would have weakened his position. It could never be revealed later. The story that a dethroned and disgraced prince nearly killed a younger brother, leaving him with a scar, would tarnish both His Majesty’s and the late Grand Duke’s reputations.”

Kylance laughed hollowly and shook his head. 

It was absurd. 

The Marquis of Blante was the man who had killed his father, not the one who had saved him. 

And if that had really happened, wouldn’t his aunt have told him? Surely she would have. 

His voice rose as he answered. 

“Spare me these baseless lies. The Marquis of Blante saved my father? To invent such nonsense… Countess, you must be completely mad.”

But despite his biting words, Kylance’s hand no longer reached for his sword. Sensing his hesitation, Countess Forte continued. 

“I am not mad, Your Grace. If you do not believe me, ask His Majesty. He will tell you the truth. His Majesty may have chosen to bury the events of that day, but he is not one to tell falsehoods. Besides, isn’t it strange when you think about it?” 

“What exactly do you call strange?” 

“The reason His Majesty was so kind to the Marquis of Blante.”

As Kylance’s brow furrowed at the countess’s cryptic words, she continued. 

“His Majesty ascended to the throne through a coup. As someone close to him, Your Grace, you are well aware of how formidable he is. But why, since his reign began, has he never executed the Marquis of Blante—a man who has never properly obeyed his orders?”

“……” 

“The Marquis wasn’t even loyal to the coup. And yet, even when he openly criticised His Majesty’s cherished imperial waterway project, His Majesty never threw him out. He reprimanded him, yes, but he never punished him.”

For a moment Kylance had no answer. It was something he had never questioned before, but the Countess’ words struck him as undeniably true. 

‘Why had His Majesty been so lenient with the Marquis of Blante all this time?’ 

Even when the Marquis had brazenly criticised His Majesty’s policies and openly opposed the waterway project so dear to his heart, the Emperor had merely expressed his anger and refrained from taking any real action against him. 

Not even when the waterway project was finally abandoned. 

Countess Forte spoke again. 

“Because His Majesty knew. He knew the Marquis of Blante’s sincere and unwavering loyalty to the Empire and the Imperial family.” 

As her words ended, a memory of the day Kylance had petitioned the Emperor resurfaced in his mind. 

“Ha, the Marquis of Blante killed Arnold… How could it have been him? I could question everything else, but I never questioned his loyalty. Has everything truly changed?”

It had been disturbing at the time, but Kylance had chosen to ignore it. Could the loyalty the Emperor spoke of truly mean…? 

He couldn’t bring himself to finish the thought. He refused to let himself go there. 

The Marquis couldn’t have been the one to save his father. The Marquis had killed his father. 

There could be no absolution for him. None at all. 

And yet, at that moment, a memory from Kylance’s childhood suddenly flashed through his mind. 

“Kylance, this sword… it was a gift from the person who gave me a new life long ago. He said that if the sword frightens you, don’t run away from it. Instead, become someone who can wield it. I hope you will start with this sword. And I hope you’ll become someone who knows how to wield it with honour.” 

On the first day of his sword-fighting lessons, his father had handed him a sword with a worn hilt and said these words to him. 

‘It can’t be…’ 

Kylance clenched his fists as he slowly asked Countess Forte, 

“Did the Marquis of Blante ever… give my father a sword?” 

He avoided meeting the Countess’s gaze. He was too afraid to hear the answer. 

‘Please… let it not be true.’ 

His nails dug into his palms as his grip tightened, and then he heard the answer he had feared most. 

“Yes. After that day, when the late Grand Duke was afraid of swords, the Marquis gave him one. He told him that if the sword frightens you, don’t run away from it. Instead, become someone who can wield it.”

Thud- 

Kylance felt his heart sink into the pit of his stomach. 

Kylance froze, as still as a stone. His mind was completely blank. 

The sword – his father’s most precious possession – had been a gift from the Marquis of Blante? 

‘How could that be?’ 

The Marquis of Blante, as Kylance knew him, was a murderer and a hypocrite who had killed his parents. 

And now he was told that the same man had saved his father’s life and given him a sword? 

Kylance couldn’t believe it. He didn’t *want* to believe it. 

If he accepted this truth, it would shake the foundation of everything he had believed and acted upon with certainty. 

But despite his denial, a crack began to form in the wall of anger and resentment he had built against the Marquis of Blante. 

As Kylance stood, too shocked to react, Countess Forte exhaled softly, as if releasing the tension that had built up in her own body. 

Unable to hide the bitterness in her voice, she spoke. 

“I didn’t expect you to find this so easy to accept, Your Grace. But the truth doesn’t disappear just because it’s hard to face.” 

“Due to the Marquis’s upright and uncompromising personality, he often clashed with His Majesty, which is why the late Grand Duke Seyerd never publicly acknowledged their connection. Even during the waterway project, the Grand Duke seriously considered the Marquis’s opinions. The Marquis was someone who would risk his life without hesitation for the Pentium Empire and the imperial family. A person like him wouldn’t have opposed His Majesty’s cherished project without a compelling reason.”

“……” 

“I understand that it’s difficult for you to believe my words, but everything I’ve said is the truth. For the sake of the bond between the late Grand Duke and the Marquis, I urge you to reconsider reopening the case.” 

Countess Forte bowed deeply, a stark contrast to the defiant and unapologetically bold figure who had just pushed Kylance to the brink of his composure. 

But Kylance was in no state to notice her humility. 

His mind was in utter turmoil, overwhelmed by the revelations about his father and the Marquis of Blante. The story was so unbelievable that it threatened to shatter everything he thought he knew. 

Sensing his inner conflict, Countess Forte didn’t wait for an answer. She knew her words had shaken him to the core. 

The countess bowed her head briefly, as if seeking forgiveness for her audacity, before slowly raising her eyes. 

Kylance stood motionless, his expression unreadable. 

It wasn’t his usual cold, distant demeanour; instead, he seemed dazed, as if his mind had drifted far away. 

The Countess watched him with a heavy gaze before pulling out her pocket watch to check the time. 

It was almost sunset. 

Narrowing her brow slightly, Countess Forte addressed him. 

“Your Grace, I have said all I wished to say. If there is nothing further you wish to discuss… Forgive me, but I must excuse myself. I must stop by the Marquisate, as Lady Blante is very unwell.”

At that moment, Kylance, who had been standing as still as a statue, twitched slightly. His eyebrows rose in response. 

“Lady Blante is unwell?” 

The Countess watched Kylance with an unreadable expression before slowly answering. 

“Yes. I have heard that she has been bedridden with a fever since the day His Majesty ordered the name of the Marquisate erased, and hasn’t regained consciousness for days.” 

Kylance’s dark eyes flickered. 

Whether it was guilt, regret, or something else entirely, an unmistakable flicker of deep, burning emotion crossed his face. 

Countess Forte, however, felt no pity for him this time. 

Her words had been spoken deliberately, to strike at his conscience. 

The once famous couple of the Empire, Grand Duke Seyerd and Lady Blante – despite being immersed in her work at the Academy, Countess Forte had heard the stories. 

A love out of a novel, they had said. But to think that such a destiny would end so cruelly. 

It was one thing that the Grand Duke had misunderstood the Marquis of Blante. Evidence of treason had surfaced, and even if the accused was the father of the woman he loved, he would have felt obliged to report it to the Emperor according to the law. 

But it was his actions afterwards that the Countess could not understand. 

Especially the fact that he had personally asked His Majesty to remove the name of Marquis of Blante.

Even between mere acquaintances, such an act would evoke a sense of betrayal. For the Grand Duke, who had once promised Lady Blante his hand in marriage, to make such a request was unthinkable. 

It wasn’t something he had done out of any obligation to uphold Imperial law as Grand Duke. 

He had done it of his own free will. 

And it was an act far too cruel for Lady Blante. 

It was precisely for this reason that Countess Forte had chosen to speak so openly about the young lady’s condition, even though it wasn’t strictly necessary. 

At the very least, she wanted the Grand Duke to feel the weight of his guilt in this matter.