138. The Beginning of the Counterattack

He narrowed his eyes in displeasure, glaring past Dean’s shoulder at Larael as he asked,

“Watch your words!!!”

Dean thr*st his face forward and shouted right back,

“Count, you are the one being rude. Have you forgotten who I am?”

Herwen pushed him in the chest with both hands. Dean stumbled a step back under the force. Only then did Herwen spot Kali, and a relieved smile spread across his lips.

“You must be Lady Layton, yes? You were here too? It’s been a while.”

Glancing sideways at Kali, Herwen slumped onto the sofa.

“That’s not important. I came rushing here as soon as I returned from the Kingdom of Hashiya because I was worried about Her Highness the Empress Consort. I had to leave for Hashiya in such a hurry that I couldn’t even see Your Highness safely returned.”

“As you can see…” Larael shrugged indifferently, her tone cold.

“Yes, it seems so. If the two of you have finished your business with Her Highness, why don’t you take your leave?”

Dean and Kali both turned their gaze toward Larael.

“Your Grace, since you’ve now confirmed my safety, you may take your leave as well.”

“Now, Your Highness, when the attendants are present, perhaps you shouldn’t speak to me like that, hmm? What if they misunderstand and think we’re closer than we truly are?”

“Your Grace.”

“I truly was worried about you—”

“Your Grace! Mind your tongue.”

Herwen felt the sharp gazes focused on him and turned his head. Dean and Kali were glaring at him with open hostility.

“…Very well. Since other guests are already here, I’ll leave. It’s enough that I’ve seen you safe.”

With an uncharacteristically sorrowful expression, Herwen looked at Larael. She furrowed her brow at him, suspicious of what new scheme he might be plotting. Yet, contrary to her doubts, Herwen departed Abella Palace without further disturbance.

Once he had gone, Dean could no longer hold back his anger and erupted at Larael.

“Does this make any sense? He may be of royal blood, but how can the Grand Duke come and go from Your Highness’s palace so freely?”

Kali lowered her head without a word, biting her lip tightly. Every time Herwen’s name came up, her chest felt weighed down, heavy and suffocating, as if a stone had been placed upon it. It would always be this way. Even if unexpected outcomes had resulted, it was the emotional price she had no choice but to bear.

“I must have acted wrongly from the very beginning.”

“….”

Hearing her words of self-reproach, Dean’s chest tightened painfully.

“No, that’s not—”

“That’s enough. Please, stop.”

Larael’s earnest gaze met his. Dean clamped his mouth shut and snapped his head aside.

“Shall we resume the discussion we were having before that uninvited guest interrupted us?”

Speaking in as bright a tone as she could manage, Larael retrieved the documents she had hidden in her desk drawer.

“When Joy returns, we’ll organize what he’s brought and expose everything at the council of nobles. I’ll have Marquis Argen and the Tower Master go to Count Briznay’s territory ahead of time, so that the moment we reveal the evidence at the council, they can arrest him and bring him to the capital. You’ve all worked hard.”

“It’s nothing. If it concerns Your Highness, I will help however I can.”

Dean, who had been unable to say it earlier, finally voiced his words. Larael saw them off and then, with light steps, headed straight for the main palace.

***

Because she had been unable to attend the council of nobles, Marquis Argen came to Larael to report on the treaty signed between the special delegation and the Kingdom of Hashiya. Upon hearing the terms, Larael couldn’t help but laugh in disbelief.

“It’s absurd. Anyone can see it’s an unbalanced treaty, entirely disadvantageous to the Kingdom of Hashiya.”

“The greater problem is that no one seems to think so. Everyone is too busy praising Grand Duke Vellaus’s ‘achievement.’”

“Even while His Majesty the Emperor lies bedridden…”

Following her gaze, Marquis Argen looked briefly toward the same direction, then turned back.

“And along with that matter, the tax reform proposed by Her Majesty the Empress Dowager has passed with overwhelming approval and is to be implemented immediately.”

“….”

“It is a tax reform entirely different from the previous system—one that benefits only the nobility. I can’t help but think it is meant to draw them firmly to the Empress Dowager’s side.”

With a bitter expression, Marquis Argen shook his head. The tax reform that Edward had fought so hard for, pushing through despite noble opposition, had been reduced to nothing, only to be replaced with such a hollow policy. It left him utterly speechless.

“And as for its purpose, well… it doesn’t need to be said, does it? Thank you for reporting, even when you’re so busy.”

“Of course. It is my duty.”

After his brief report, Marquis Argen returned to his office.

It was two more days before Joy finally returned to the imperial palace.

Dark circles hung under Joy’s eyes, reaching all the way down to his cheekbones.

“I greet Your Highness the Empress.”

“Joy, you’ve worked hard. You look utterly exhausted.”

Larael seated him on the sofa and had Sasha bring out some warm tea.

“Your Highness, I apologize for keeping you waiting. In the past, I might have acted on my own, but as your subordinate, I was worried about bringing trouble upon you, so I moved more cautiously.”

“No, I haven’t been waiting long. Drink some warm tea.”

Joy didn’t refuse. He cupped the warm teacup in both hands, blew gently over it, took a sip, then set it back down.

“You won’t drink more?”

“Since Your Highness is waiting, I’d like to show you quickly.”

With a proud expression, Joy placed an old bundle of cloth on the table.

“My teacher used to wrap things like this sometimes when he traveled.”

Perhaps embarrassed by the shabby bundle, Joy quickly added the explanation. Then, with care, he untied the knot and drew out five notebooks with black covers.

“I infiltrated Count Briznay’s estate and kept watch over his activities. In his study, I discovered a hidden space—and inside it, I found these ledgers.”

Larael picked one up and flipped through it. To her surprise, every page was blank. She looked at Joy in bewilderment.

“These are magic ledgers. I’ve seen ones like them used before by those who trafficked in slaves.”

“Ah… yes, I’ve heard of such things.”

Larael nodded as she examined the notebook. She had heard of magic ledgers before, though she had never seen one herself since she never had reason to use them. Thinking it fortunate that Ferma and Nora were staying within the palace, Larael spoke again.

“Joy, you’ve done well. You should take these ledgers to the Tower Master, then go to Abella Palace and get some rest.”

“No, Your Highness. I will deliver them to the Tower Master and then return immediately.”

“In that case, Joy, would you tell Count Winters and Kali to come to Abella Palace this evening?”

Though Larael praised him, the task of relaying her summons to Count Winters and Kali left Joy looking downcast. Only then did his fatigue truly hit him, and he cast Larael a weary, almost reproachful glance. But when his eyes met her harmless crimson gaze, he found he could not harbor resentment.

“Yes, understood.”

He answered in a faint voice, then left the palace, heading toward the Winters estate.

That evening, in the reception room of Abella Palace, those summoned by Larael gathered: Marquis Argen, the Tower Master and Nora, Dean and Kali, and Joy as well.

As soon as everyone was assembled, before there was even time for pleasantries, Larael addressed the Tower Master directly.

“Has the magic on the ledgers Joy found been broken?”

Larael believed that with the Tower Master’s skills, there was nothing she could not accomplish—and Nora, her outstanding pupil, was also at her side. The Tower Master lifted her brows.

“To be honest, even I found it extremely difficult. A rather high-level spell had been placed on them.”

At those words, Larael let out a quiet sigh of relief. The Tower Master had said it was difficult—but not impossible.

“Your Highness, I assisted the Tower Master quite a lot,” Nora interjected, raising her hand. Even Ferma, the Tower Master, acknowledged it; without Nora, it might have been truly arduous.

Larael picked up one of the notebooks Nora offered.

“At the very front of each ledger is written the subject of the transactions recorded within.”

She ran her finger over the name that appeared now on the first page of the one she held—a name that had been invisible before.

“Duke Anderman…”