Chapter 9

“It really does look as if Earl Crowley is the chief mourner. I heard he even arrived early this morning and greeted the mourners in place of the new Duke.”

“Well, the former Duke also had that black hair, unlike someone else.”

“The current Duke looks just like his mother, who was a commoner—blond hair and blue eyes…”

“He doesn’t seem to resemble his father at all, except for the nose.”

Lionel listened to their criticism with one ear and let it out the other, not even bothering to turn around. He’d heard such things so many times that he didn’t care anymore.

‘I thought at least the funeral would pass quietly, but no.’

If this was how it was at a funeral, it was obvious how much worse it would be at social parties.

Lionel imagined what it would be like if he threw away the Duchy and its debt of one million gold and fled overseas.

“Lionel.”

Richard, who had been silent, spoke to him. Lionel only looked at him without responding, and Richard gave a gentle smile.

“Ah, I should ask your permission first. Is it alright if I call you by your name instead of your title? Of course, you can call me by my name, too.”

“…In private, that’s allowed.”

His tone was cold, like a chilly wind. But Richard kept his gentlemanly demeanor.

“Thank you. The late Victor always called me by my name, too. I don’t think he ever called me ‘Earl Crowley’.”

As Lionel remembered, the late Victor de Valentin was strict, almost like a walking etiquette manual. For Victor to call a cousin with a title by name and never use ‘Earl’?

Lionel replied with sarcasm, as if Richard was showing off his closeness to his deceased brother.

“How did you get so close to my brother? Why don’t you share your secret?”

“Well, we hung out together since we were very young. Even after I became Earl seven years ago, Victor treated me the same. The late Duke was the same way.”

It seemed Richard had faithfully played the role of the former Duke’s second son. When Lionel said nothing more, Richard added in a friendly tone,

“Anyway, when it’s just us, let’s not call each other Duke or Earl. It’s better to be friendly, as cousins.”

“It would have been nice if we’d done that since childhood.”

A brief silence passed. But Richard soon laughed it off as if it was nothing.

“Well, there was a wall between us back then. Who would have thought you’d become Duke?”

Lionel almost scoffed at that shamelessness but managed to hold back.

‘Who would have thought you’d become Duke—what an easy excuse.’

He shot Richard a contemptuous look. As Lionel remembered, Richard had never tried to speak to him, the illegitimate child.

‘He ignored me as if I didn’t exist when we were kids, but now that I’m Duke, he clings to me. So consistent.’

Thinking of the past only made Lionel more displeased, so he couldn’t keep smiling. By the time the funeral carriage reached the family cemetery, his face was already appropriately expressionless for the role of chief mourner.

“We will begin the interment.”

With butler Oliver’s words, the two coffins were lowered side by side into the two graves. Several women who had been close to the deceased shed tears. But Lionel, to his own surprise, felt nothing as he scooped dirt and sprinkled it over the coffins.

Finally, the gravestones were placed, and everyone finished their last moment of silence. As the mourners filed out of the Valentin family cemetery,

Richard approached Lionel, who was the last to remain by the gravestone. Not wanting to deal with him anymore, Lionel spoke first.

“Go ahead, Richard. If you have something to say, let’s talk at dinner tonight.”

“I’m not sure it’s a suitable topic for dinner.”

Drawing closer, Richard looked down at the Valentin Duke’s gravestone and quietly asked,

“What does it feel like, Lionel, to have a debt of one million gold instead of an inheritance?”

At Richard’s question, Lionel slowly turned his head. When their eyes met, Richard gave another gentlemanly smile—the same one he’d shown at the ducal mansion’s funeral.

He knew everything. The Valentin Duchy’s debt, the family disgrace.

“So you picked up all that information from frequent visits to the mansion? Or did you do some private investigating?”

At Lionel’s wary tone, Richard shook his head.

“Don’t misunderstand. I only know because the Duke asked for my advice and shared his situation.”

He stepped closer to Lionel, whose expression had stiffened, and spoke quietly.

“I won’t tell anyone else about that debt. Your position would become quite difficult. I wouldn’t want to be accused of exposing a cousin’s weakness, either.”

Lionel felt as if Richard had found his weak spot. But he couldn’t just grab him and start a fight like when they were kids.

Lionel held back his irritation and looked at the situation calmly.

“Yes, there’s a debt of one million gold. I have no idea how to pay it off. What would you do?”

When Lionel admitted it honestly and asked for advice, Richard seemed genuinely surprised. He answered with interest, as if he found his cousin’s growth fascinating.

“Business. You can’t make that much money except through business. Selling off existing businesses is one way. Or you could start a new venture and succeed.”

Lionel’s head ached as he thought about the endless list of businesses his father had started. How was he supposed to package and sell off all those useless things?

“Selling businesses is one thing. But isn’t starting a new business too risky? If it fails, there’ll be more losses.”

“Of course. Business is basically a gamble. That’s why it matters who’s running it.”

Richard, probing Lionel’s real thoughts, asked,

“The Valentin Duchy has several businesses—railways, mines, lumber… Is there one you think you could make a success of?”

“I doubt it. What do I know about those fields?”

“True. And you’ve been away from the Duchy for so long, you probably don’t have any connections. Connections are crucial in business.”

Listening quietly, Lionel smiled wryly and pointed out to Richard,

“Wait. What about you? Business sense, experience, connections—you have all of those, don’t you?”

That was the conclusion Richard had been leading to. As Lionel realized it naturally, Richard said to him,

“I’ll help with the Duchy’s business, Lionel. Just as I helped the late Duke.”

Lionel stared into Richard’s earnest violet eyes. Both the former Duke and Victor had trusted and relied on this kind Richard Crowley.

While the Crowley Earldom’s business prospered, the Valentin Duchy’s business fell to ruin.

Can that really be called ‘help’?

After a moment, Lionel relaxed his expression and smiled.

“Alright, Richard. You’re better than me in every way. If you want, let’s talk more after dinner.”

When Lionel smiled, Richard returned it. Richard reached out to him like a reliable older brother.

“Let’s do our best, Lionel. Let’s revive the family together.”

After shaking hands, they left the Valentin family cemetery. To others, they looked like friendly brothers.

But their laughter was hollow, and there was no sincerity in their conversation.

Feeling that a new war had begun, Lionel finished the tiresome funeral.

* * *

A week later, Clarette was riding a carriage heading south of the capital. Her destination was Marquis Rembart’s mansion.

It was a journey to win the mural commission that Melanie Bouvier had brought her.

<There’ll be quite a lot of competitors. And today, many nobles are attending, so dress as prettily and eye-catchingly as you can!>

Following Melanie’s advice, Clarette put effort into her appearance. She borrowed clothes and shoes that looked as luxurious as possible, and spent a long time putting up her hair.

Still, attending a noble family’s party in person was quite a burden.

‘The carriage fare is expensive, and renting the outfit cost a lot. I must get this commission, no matter what.’

How could she win the favor of Marquis Rembart? What should she talk about to build connections with nobles?

While she worried, the carriage arrived at the mansion. By the time she reached the garden, already warm in the afternoon, many people had arrived.

Marquis Rembart was not yet present. But several renowned artists were already noticeable in the party.

‘Wow, those people…’

A young artist who graduated top of the Royal Academy, a distinguished painter who held annual court exhibitions, an artist who studied abroad and brought back a unique style…

All of them had held solo exhibitions at the capital’s art museum at least once.

‘I wonder if Thiago came? Maybe he’s still busy.’

Thiago Salto was her father’s protégé. Clarette searched for a man with silver hair, but no matter how hard she looked, Thiago was nowhere to be seen.

Just then, a group of men approached her.