“You have many questions today.”
“That’s because Your Grace keeps doing things I can’t make sense of…”
“It is the money you gave to a servant of House Matwood.”
“…Why are you giving it back to me?”
“I had it conveyed that the amount was excessive and could not be accepted.”
“I see.”
He must have known that Alyona had humiliated her with a pouch of money.
‘The servant who delivered the coins was likely one of the duke’s spies.’
On reflection, it seemed as though Aiden’s men had always been close by: at the coffee house, at the Matwood estate, and wherever else she went.
He must have known about her meeting with Viscount Mariner, too.
He knew everything, and yet she had trembled in fear of being exposed. This realization made her feel utterly foolish.
Sveta lifted her trembling hand and gently drew Aiden’s head towards her.
Running her fingers through his neatly combed golden hair, she spoke softly, concealing the thoughts she dared not reveal behind her carefully modulated voice.
“Thank you for returning it, Aiden.”
“…It was only natural.”
“There is nothing natural about what Your Grace does for me.”
“…”
He pulled her into a tight embrace, burying his face in her neck.
A deep, hard-to-interpret sigh brushed against her skin.
His warmth washed over her like rain.
***
Some time later, the Duke emerged from his mistress’s chamber.
Dennis, who had been waiting in the corridor, quickly fell into step behind him.
“Your Grace, are you headed to the training grounds?”
“Wasn’t the Marquis of Matwood said to be here?”
“That is true, but…”
Dennis’s eyes widened slightly.
He had assumed that the Duke would postpone the meeting to go to the training grounds instead.
The Marquis of Matwood had not expected to be received either. Tomorrow was the anniversary of the late Duchess’s death.
Every year on this day, the duke spent the whole day at the shooting range, firing arrow after arrow without pause. Over time, it had become more than a habit — it was his fixed schedule, an unspoken rule that nobody dared to question.
And yet—
“Take me to the reception room.”
“…Pardon?”
“There is work to be done, is there not?”
“Yes…”
Remarkably, the duke appeared to be as calm as ever.
At this quiet deviation from routine, Dennis felt a faint stirring in his chest.
It was as though the hatred that had consumed his master was beginning to fade.
The man, who had devoted his life to revenge, finally seemed to have filled the emptiness hidden behind his rigid mask.
The thought moved him.
However, the duke merely strode forward on long, steady legs, seemingly unmoved.
“The lawsuit preparations.”
His voice was as devoid of emotion as ever.
“We are in discreet contact with Count Fitell, who will preside as judge.”
“And?”
“It appears it will proceed as scheduled next spring.”
“I see.”
When they reached the reception room, an attendant who had been waiting for them opened the door for them.
Dennis stopped walking.
The massive doors closed directly in front of him.
All that remained was to wait for his master to finish speaking with the Marquis of Matwood.
A servant brought him a chair. He sat down and spread the documents he was holding across his lap.
“Haa…”
He hastily turned the pages and pressed a hand to his throbbing brow.
The duke intended to remain secluded at Levizan Castle with his mistress for the duration of the winter. This meant that all business had to be concluded before his master left to host the hunting festival.
“…One month.”
Would it be possible to finish everything before then?
As Dennis calculated the schedule, his complexion grew paler and paler.
***
The door, which had seemed unlikely to open, finally did.
The duke entered the reception room.
“Your Grace.”
The Marquis of Matwood looked at him with visible surprise.
At this hour, the duke should have been at the training grounds.
‘I would have preferred he did not agree to see me…’
He had only come because his daughter had insisted on lodging a complaint. He had been reluctant from the outset.
Was it not absurd to travel so far over a trivial contest of pride between women?
The Marquis took his seat, still feeling uncomfortable.
“What brings you here, Marquis Matwood?”
After hesitating for a moment, the marquis sighed and spoke.
“Alyona has taken to her bed.”
“And?”
“…Why did Your Grace compel that child to do something so degrading?”
“Are you asking when you already know the answer?”
The voice that returned was firm.
Like an iron shield. Like a tree that would not split, even if struck by lightning. Each syllable was hard and devoid of emotion.
The Marquis of Matwood forced his reluctant lips apart.
“…She is to become the Duchess before long. If she is treated with such disregard, what will become of her?”
“…”
“She is a daughter I have cherished. A precious child who has never so much as lifted a small vase on her own. I ask that you consider her dignity.”
The duke lowered his gaze to the black leather glove covering his palm.
He slowly clenched and unclenched his fist. The gesture felt like an unspoken threat.
Lifting his eyes again, Aiden said quietly.
“Do you want a trade vessel that sails to the New Continent?”
“…What?”
The Duke’s proposal was as tempting as the Devil’s.
It was tempting enough to make a man consider selling his soul.
The Marquis swallowed hard, the corner of his mouth trembling faintly.
Seeing this, the Duke continued.
“In exchange for the marriage, I agreed to grant House Matwood one trade ship traveling the Muwieo route.”
“Yes… that was the arrangement.”
The Marquis had signed a marriage contract with the House of Strilland, agreeing to pay the equivalent of a single trade vessel in exchange for their daughter’s hand in marriage.
While the duke was undoubtedly the most desirable bridegroom on the continent, the match risked incurring the queen’s displeasure.
Nevertheless, he had accepted.
The reason was—
“I understand well the purpose behind your desire to proceed with this marriage. The ambition to extend your hand from precarious diplomacy into trade.”
“…”
The duke was right.
The Marquis’s grandfather was from Sweenia and had openly supported it during the Tes War.
The problem was that Terris won.
Within just a few years, Terris had become the dominant power in the West. Inevitably, House Matwood, having fallen out of favor with Terris, saw its diplomatic influence begin to shrink.
For now, it still held a place at the diplomatic table. But its future was uncertain.
To make matters worse, his father’s reckless expansion plans had collapsed one after another, leaving the family’s finances in steady decline.
This was why he had turned his attention to trade.
‘But the New Continent!’
The profits from a single voyage were staggering. The Tess War, fought over ruby mines, seemed trivial by comparison.
The Marquis’s ash-grey eyes gleamed with unabashed greed.
“I will grant what you desire. Instead of the Muwieo vessel, an irregular trade ship bound for the New Continent. What do you say?”
“Y-you truly… mean that?”
“One vessel in even-numbered years. For the next ten years.”
“T-ten years?”
It was an outrageous proposal.
As though struck by a sudden gust, the marquis’s hands trembled uncontrollably.
“If you grant what I desire.”
“I-I would need to hear what that is before making any decision, Your Grace.”
The calculations racing through his mind were evident in his expression.
No matter how skilled he was at diplomacy, it would be difficult to conceal his greed in the face of such an offer.
Aiden regarded the man’s undisguised desire with indifference.
After a deliberate pause in the conversation, he spoke.
“I want the engagement annulled.”
“…”
A swirl of emotions crossed the marquis’s face.
The last to surface was unmistakable greed.
“I understand a father’s love for his daughter. You must fulfill your role as a good father, so I will give you time to consider.”
He had planned to spend the upcoming winter in Levizan with Sveta.
Once autumn and winter were over, there would be ample time to finalize the annulment.
However, the Marquis responded immediately, as though there were nothing to consider.
“I will return immediately and inform Alyona, Your Grace. She might be upset, but if her former fiancé is from House Strilland, it won’t tarnish her reputation. On the contrary, families who admire Strilland may even come forward with proposals.”
“…”
The marquis’s cheek twitched, as though he were barely suppressing a smile.
‘So much for loving his daughter.’
That love had yielded so easily to power and influence.
What shallow devotion!
For the first time, Aiden found himself feeling a flicker of pity for Alyona Matwood.
***
“Madam, your meal has been prepared.”
“I said I don’t need it!”
Dalia shrieked.
The maid, accustomed to such outbursts, bowed deeply and left the room.
Dalia had been confined to bed for several days, neglecting her meals and groaning in distress.
With each passing thought, the faint suspicion that Sveta might be the Princess of Prisada had become more and more plausible.
‘She dyed her hair. That’s why I didn’t recognize her.’
Yes, that must be why she hadn’t noticed it before.
Of course, she could not clearly remember what the former queen looked like. Who could summon the face of someone who had been dead for over twenty years?
“No. It’s her temperament.”
Perhaps that was the real reason.
Yes, that was it.
It was because of Sveta’s deceptively gentle nature.
Her stubbornness was no more threatening than a kitten’s soft purr.
‘Compared to the blunt and combative temperament of the Vesviums, it was nothing.’
The Prisadans were generally like that, but the Vesvium line was particularly extreme.
Their arrogance could rival that of the Strillands themselves, and their imposing physiques were strikingly different from Sveta’s slender frame and delicate nature.
So how could anyone have known?
“Only someone like me could have recognized it.”
After exhausting herself trying to rationalize her guilt, Dalia felt the weight on her heart lift.
Stepping into the newly cleared space was her shallow vanity, blooming like a hothouse plant.
Beyond the narrow shadow cast by those small leaves, ambition quietly lifted its head.
“If I were to resurrect the long-dead princess, would not even the capricious Queen of Prisada and the monstrous Duke of Baiton be pleased?”
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Danes96
La suerte de Sveta para encontrarse con personas que solo buscan un beneficio sobre ella es increíble, ya sea, placer por su humillación, placer carnal y ahora la loca de Dalia queriendo recuperar un estatus y riqueza. Ni siquiera considera todo lo que le ha hecho a Sveta mientras la adoptó