Kyle sat on the sofa, one leg trembling uncontrollably. It was a nervous tic that occurred whenever he felt extremely anxious.

He would usually restrain such an unseemly display, but with one crisis after another lately, he could no longer control it.

The matter of his daughter’s inheritance was already a burden, leaving him mentally exhausted.

The assassination guild had failed to kill her. All they had to deal with were a woman and a commoner. And yet they failed. Unbelievable.

It was at this point that Kyle began to sense that something was amiss.

As an immediate precaution, he ordered the guild to erase all records of the request.

He also instructed the Information Guild to recall the errand boys monitoring his daughter’s movements.

With that, he had eliminated every trace he could.

Now, he had to feign ignorance and pretend he knew nothing at all.

He wanted to send someone to Lanier to find out what had gone wrong, but he couldn’t risk it.

If he made the wrong move, all his efforts to cover his tracks would be wasted.

With his wife still out of contact, he was on edge.

‘She wouldn’t have gone to the emperor… and then to Lanier, would she?’

The mere thought made his blood run cold.

What if Maeve had gone to the emperor and whispered something dangerous in his ear? What would become of him then?

It was unthinkable. She might as well be praying for her husband’s death.

The only hope left was that they were a married couple with two children.

No matter how strained their relationship was, Kyle was still the father of her children.

If he were disgraced and executed, the entire family would crumble, and Robert, the heir apparent, would be destroyed along with them.

Even if Maeve had lost her reason, she wouldn’t risk her son’s future.

This thought alone kept Kyle’s fragile optimism alive.

She had simply gone out to clear her head. Robert would bring her back soon enough. They both had guards with them, so nothing could go wrong.

At least, that was what he told himself.

Just then—

KNOCK, KNOCK.

Kyle froze.

Another knock, louder this time. The butler’s voice followed, urgent and trembling.

“My lord! My lord, are you awake?!”

“I am! Come in!”

The note of panic in the servant’s voice made Kyle sit up and take notice.

The door opened quickly, but the butler faltered once he entered, unable to speak.

Kyle’s patience snapped. His eyes narrowed dangerously.

“Has my wife returned? Or is she with Robert?”

“Ah, about the young master…”

The butler lowered his head, face stricken with dread.

Kyle rose sharply from his seat, irritation creeping into his tone.

“Well? Out with it!”

The butler’s voice quivered.

“…He has passed away, my lord.”

“What—?!”

The color drained from Kyle’s face. His legs gave way beneath him and the world tilted.

For a moment, he felt weightless; then, with a dull thud, his body collapsed to the floor.

“Robert… why…?”

He had never particularly liked his son.

Robert was an average student at the Imperial Academy, achieving respectable but unremarkable grades. He joined the civil service, but he was still inexperienced.

While others praised his potential, Kyle found him disappointing.

Unlike Duke Sihon Blair, he wasn’t a natural swordsman, nor was he the cunning strategist that Emperor Daniel Solarium was.

Robert lacked charm, ambition and flair.

Even his hobbies were uninspiring: he had no interest in women and no taste for alcohol. Maeve’s moralizing influence, no doubt.

Kyle had tried to introduce his son to the right people and arrange meetings with influential nobles, but he never seized the opportunities.

And yet, he was his only son.

Although Kyle often complained about Robert one day inheriting the title, he had never doubted that it would happen.

A son was irreplaceable; a daughter could be married off and forgotten. But an heir was the future.

Now, that future was gone.

The shock had completely hollowed him out.

✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦ ✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦ ✦❘

The next morning, the Marquis publicly announced his heir’s death and began making funeral preparations.

He interrogated the guards who had accompanied Robert, demanding answers about what had happened.

The Amaranth estate fell into a suffocating silence, heavy and still like a tomb.

But the storm was not over.

Another disaster struck soon after.

Kyle received a formal summons from the Central Security Bureau — an official complaint had been filed against him.

The plaintiffs were his daughter and Duke Blair.
✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦ ✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦ ✦❘

One bright summer afternoon, sheets of paper fluttered through the streets of Conchesta, the imperial capital, like falling leaves.

The nobles who had ventured out for a leisurely stroll with their families or friends looked around in confusion.

Someone on horseback was scattering the papers through the bustling streets.

Though the figure was cloaked from head to toe, their small frame and delicate hands were unmistakably feminine.

‘Should I read it? Or ignore it?’

The nobles exchanged cautious glances.

Finally, unable to resist her curiosity, one lady gave a subtle signal to her maid.

The maid stooped obediently to pick up a sheet from the cobbled street and handed it to her mistress. The lady unfolded it with a haughty expression, only to gasp aloud.

“Oh my…”

Her widened eyes drew the attention of her companions.

“What does it say?”

“Yes, do tell us.”

“I… I couldn’t possibly read this out loud.”

The lady hesitated, then passed the paper to her colleagues. They read it one by one, and their reactions were almost identical.

Mouths dropped. Fans trembled in gloved hands. Some covered their mouths, while others tried and failed to hide their expressions. Shock. Fascination. Disbelief. Even a hint of fear.

No one dared to repeat the words aloud. Instead, they exchanged uneasy glances, each trying to read the other’s thoughts.

The contents were too scandalous to utter.

[Marquis Kyle Amaranth attempted to have his daughter assassinated for her inheritance.]
[Marchioness Maeve Amaranth is guilty of domestic *buse against her daughter.]
[Arwen Amaranth never loved the Emperor, not for a single moment.]

The leaflets spread like wildfire across the capital.

Seizing the opportunity to capitalize on the uproar, newspapers and gossip magazines rushed to print sensationalist headlines.

However, even as they did so, a rare note of restraint lingered in their tone.

For once, none of them dared to embellish the story.

They merely reported that “an anonymous flyer was distributed in the heart of the capital, containing statements such as…”—and left it at that.

These same papers would usually have eagerly dissected the reputations of everyone involved, intertwining speculation and rumor to create a web of half-truths.

But this time was different.

Even the most daring editors knew that there was a fine line between reporting a scandal and fabricating one.

Publishing conjecture about nobles, especially those connected to the imperial family, could lead to ruin.

Printing libel could result in the closure of one’s press and the loss of one’s head.

✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦ ✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦ ✦❘

[Tabloid Weekly]
BREAKING: Mysterious Leaflets Stir Chaos in the Capital!

[Wings Letter Daily]
EXCLUSIVE: What Was Written on the Flyers That Shocked the Capital?

[Whistle Times Weekly]
INSIDE REPORT: Who Is the Unknown Woman Spreading Scandalous Pamphlets Against House Amaranth?

✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦ ✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦ ✦❘

Daniel leisurely flipped through the stack of newspapers and pamphlets spread across his desk.

Not a flicker of anger crossed his face.

Seeing this, his secretary spoke cautiously.

“Shall I order them all shut down, Your Majesty?”

“No,” Daniel replied calmly, a faint smile curving his lips. “Let them be.”

He looked amused.

“It’s rather entertaining watching her struggle so desperately.”

After all, public opinion warfare was the weapon of the powerless — something to be used only when legal or political means had failed.

In other words, Lydia had struck first because she had no other choice.

By tarnishing her own reputation and publicly declaring that she had never loved him, she hoped to force his hand and make him abandon her.

The engagement was still unofficial.

Her message was clear: “If you don’t wish to be dragged into this mess, step away while you can.”

It was a bold move; her last chance.

If even that failed to shake him and he refused to let go, what would a cornered woman do then?

Daniel’s smile deepened as his fingers brushed the edge of the leaflet.

The thought of seeing her again — defiant, trembling and furious — filled him with anticipation.

✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦ ✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦ ✦❘

Meanwhile, Lydia had no time to rest.

In Lanier, she visited the provincial police headquarters to give her statement as the victim. She then met with her landlord to discuss compensation for the damaged property before stopping by the café where she had been working, to thank the owner and hand in her notice.

She then returned to the capital to request copies of her past medical and counselling records, transfer the assets that Daniel had gifted her two years ago back to the Treasury and hire a lawyer to begin official proceedings.

Her already fragile health deteriorated sharply under the strain.

The fatigue was physical, but she was taking the greatest toll from the sheer frustration of dealing with the indifferent authorities.

When she and Sihon first reported the assassination attempt in the south, things went reasonably well.

Although the provincial officers were reluctant to handle a case involving two rival noble houses, they nevertheless conducted the investigation properly.

They circulated composite sketches of the assassins, tracked their movements, and traced the origin of the weapons. They identified the guild that had made the weapons and who had hired the assassins.

After all, the Duke of Blair had been seriously injured. No one dared sweep such a case under the carpet.

However, the moment Lydia went alone to the Central Security Bureau in the capital, everything changed.

The investigators there dismissed the testimony and evidence submitted jointly with the Lanier police.

They reasoned that, as the captured assassins had been interrogated by the Duke’s knights before being handed over to the authorities, their statements were “potentially unreliable”.

Using the same logic, they also refused to admit the ledgers recovered from the assassins’ branch office. These contained records detailing the dates and sums of down payments received. This evidence could have been cross-referenced with recent withdrawals from the marquisate’s accounts.

Despite the fact that such a document would have provided critical circumstantial proof, it was dismissed without a second glance.

Instead, they subtly urged her to withdraw the complaint altogether.

They said that the investigation was proceeding properly and that there was no need to rush. The truth would reveal itself in due time.

Was it really necessary to accuse her own father directly before anything had been confirmed?

After all, she hadn’t personally seen him hire assassins to kill her.

Wouldn’t it be better to avoid damaging the reputation of both her father and herself?

Clearly, Kyle Amaranth’s famed talent for bribery and networking was at work.

Even the prosecutors and inspectors assigned to the case seemed displeased by Lydia’s defiance.

Most of them were powerful noblemen who viewed filial obedience as the natural order.

In their eyes, a member of a noble family existed to serve its patriarch: to obey, to sacrifice and to accept abandonment if cast aside.

Among them were Count Scholler, the chief prosecutor, and Count Jenard, the inspector general — both of whom were heads of their own houses.

Having clawed their way to power, they believed that once a man became the head of the family, his will was absolute.

Therefore, in their view, Lydia’s decision to sue her father was an act of insolence.

Even if Kyle had genuinely tried to kill her, the idea of a daughter bringing her father, the head of the household, before a court was unbearable.

Proving the first charge of attempted murder was difficult enough; proving the second charge of domestic *buse would be an even bigger challenge.

“Wouldn’t it be better to settle this privately?”

“Your mother must have been misled by the circumstances. She only acted out of misunderstanding, thinking you were illegitimate.”

“You probably don’t realize this, but hundreds of illegitimate children die among noble families every year. It’s tragic, yes, but common and hardly worth a public scandal.”

“Now that the truth about your birth is known, you should be grateful. Your mother must be deeply remorseful. Forget the past, my lady. Let your parents arrange a suitable marriage for you. That is what is best.”

Initially, they refused to register her petition at all, burying her under a barrage of patronising excuses.

However, Lydia eventually filed a formal complaint with the Bureau of Oversight, accusing the officials of misconduct and obstruction.

As a result, a few junior staff members were disciplined, and from then on, nobody dared suggest that she drop the case.

Her second lawsuit against her mother for domestic *buse was also accepted without resistance.

Little by little, progress was made.

However, the process was still excruciatingly slow.