Chapter 11

“Your Grace Duke Valentin, this must be your first time at a party like this, isn’t it? You must be quite anxious, suddenly inheriting your title. You’ve spent all your time in the military, so managing a territory must feel unfamiliar.”

“Someday, you’ll surely host a party at the ducal mansion, too, right? Your reputation precedes you, especially among the ladies.”

“Have you met your cousin, Earl Crowley? He’s as fine a gentleman as the late Sir Victor. He’s very interested in the affairs of the Duchy, almost as if they were his own.”

Lionel listened quietly to their words, wearing his relaxed smile. As expected, nobles laughed and chatted as they subtly looked down on him.

‘Would someone like you, fresh from the army, really be able to govern an estate properly? We know all about how recklessly you’ve lived. As for the successor to Valentin, a capable member of a collateral branch would have been better than an illegitimate child like you.’

It was not difficult at all to discern the true meaning behind their words.

‘I really can’t stand these pointless mind games.’

Lionel simply smiled appropriately without reacting much to their comments. The nobles, who had been probing him, gradually lost interest as he responded more indifferently than they expected.

So the topic shifted elsewhere.

“Soon there’ll be a hunting competition at Earl Crowley’s Earldom. Every year, the Earl himself catches the largest stag. I wonder how it’ll go this year.”

“Will the host win again? Or will someone else finally get the prize…?”

“Oh! What if His Grace Duke Valentin participates?”

All eyes turned to Lionel, who was quietly sipping his wine. The man who spoke up became excited as Lionel met his gaze.

“That’s right, Your Grace, weren’t you the Empire’s finest marksman? It’ll be a spectacle, a contest between two cousins!”

“Isn’t it more of a pride match than a hunting contest? One is from a collateral branch of Valentin, the other is…”

A middle-aged lady, chiming in, trailed off awkwardly. Realizing she’d almost made a slip, she quickly opened her fan to cover her mouth.

But Lionel gazed at her and let out a small laugh.

“What is the other, then, of Valentin?”

“Oh, the Duke of Valentin, of course! His Grace himself.”

She laughed and fluttered her eyes at him, but everyone present knew she’d really wanted to say ‘illegitimate child of Valentin.’

Lionel knew it, too. Facing the many eyes watching for his reaction, he opened his mouth with a smile.

“If my dear cousin invites me, I would gladly attend the hunting competition. Though I’ve never really enjoyed such contests as a sport.”

“What? You shoot so well, yet you’ve never entered a hunting competition?”

Hunting was a common sport among noblemen. As they looked at him quizzically, Lionel spoke as if recalling the past.

“Well, I have hunted before. During the war, I even hunted and ate a tiger in the forest.”

“My goodness, how dreadful!”

“Heavens…”

Everyone was shocked by Lionel’s matter-of-fact remark. He spoke leisurely before the speechless nobles.

“If all I have to hunt is deer, it should be a safe and pleasant hunt. Since I’m not aiming for victory, I’ll just go and watch.”

With that, Lionel resumed drinking his wine. The nobles, who had tried to provoke him with talk of his cousin Earl Crowley, fell silent.

If someone who’d hunted tigers entered a mere deer-hunting contest, who could possibly beat him?

Perhaps this year, Earl Crowley might lose his winning shot for the first time—to his cousin whom everyone considered unqualified, Duke Lionel de Valentin.

At that moment, Lionel pointed out with amusement,

“By the way, everyone seems very interested in my cousin. He’s not even here. If someone overheard, they’d think the invited Duke of Valentin was him, not me.”

His words carried a sting. The nobles, who had tried to make him their plaything, began to slip away, sensing the atmosphere.

They’d thought that, as a soldier, he would be clumsy and hot-tempered. But he didn’t get angry easily; instead, he steered the conversation cleverly around himself.

In short, the illegitimate child who became Duke of Valentin was by no means an easy man.

‘Honestly, nobles… They always start by looking down on people.’

Lionel clicked his tongue inwardly, sipping only the expensive wine. The food was excellent, the decorated gardens dazzling, but none of it captivated him.

‘People are boring. People.’

Why did nobles put on airs, speak in circles, and judge others only by their status? Already fed up with the party, Lionel was considering barging into the Marquis’s mansion.

“Ah, look! Marquis Rembart has appeared.”

“He was inside after all. But who’s the woman beside him? Has he found a new lover?”

People looked toward the entrance of the mansion, whispering curiously. Lionel listened to their words and set down his empty glass.

He intended to propose patronage to the Marquis and leave early. Here, under the nobles’ watchful eyes, he couldn’t drink freely nor approach women carelessly.

Lionel strode toward where the Marquis stood. Strategies like mentioning the late Duke first to ease into conversation naturally came to his mind.

But after only a few steps, when he looked up, he met the eyes of the woman rumored to be the Marquis’s ‘new lover.’

Deep green eyes, reminiscent of a tranquil forest.

It was Clarette Sollier.

“Why…”

Lionel unconsciously muttered, then closed his mouth. He was too far away for his voice to reach Clarette anyway.

While he stood silently, the men around began making comments about Clarette.

“She’s that famous woman, isn’t she? The subject of the portrait praised by the Crown Prince.”

“Oh, is she the model for that painting? She’s pretty enough. Maybe she really is the Marquis’s lover.”

“No, I heard she’s a painter. Isn’t that unusual? Despite her looks, her personality must be eccentric…”

“I haven’t seen her paintings, so I wouldn’t know, but I do like her face. I’ll try talking to her later.”

The men’s reactions were similar to Lionel’s initial impression when he first saw Clarette. That she had only her beauty, and no one cared about her skill.

But Lionel could no longer agree with his past thoughts. Clarette’s passion for art was genuine, and her skill—even her sketches—had captivated him.

Clarette’s beauty was like the label of ‘illegitimate child’ he bore.

A barrier that kept anyone from seeing beyond, obscuring their true selves.

“Oh my, Your Grace. Weren’t you heading inside? I thought you would greet the Marquis.”

Just then, a noblewoman quickly approached and spoke to him. Meanwhile, Clarette turned away from him and faced Marquis Rembart.

“No, he was already talking with someone else.”

Lionel stared at Marquis Rembart, who spoke to Clarette with familiarity. The Marquis, a man in his early thirties of average height, had a cold impression but was handsomely aristocratic.

She said she wanted a lover, but could that Marquis really be the one? The possibility made Lionel snort involuntarily.

She didn’t want to be Duke Valentin’s mistress, but would she be fine as Marquis Rembart’s?

‘That can’t be. Anyone can see I’m better.’

Whether by looks or status. Ah, except for wealth, of course.

As he watched Clarette and the Marquis with suspicious eyes, the noblewoman beside him chattered in an exaggerated tone.

“Your Grace, that woman standing before the Marquis is a painter! Isn’t it fascinating? I never thought I’d see a female painter in my life, and here she is.”

Lionel, still unable to take his eyes off Clarette, asked the noblewoman,

“Are female painters rare?”

“Yes, of course! Who would want a woman painter? She probably never had proper lessons, and if she’s a commoner, she’d be too busy with housework to paint well. I don’t know how good she is, but it’s clear the gods gave her other talents.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Just look.”

At that moment, Marquis Rembart led Clarette to a group of men. They were dressed up but didn’t have a noble air.

They were common men. Realizing this, Lionel quietly furrowed his brow.