Chapter 137

The reply from White Swan Castle came swiftly. The hawk used by Yaheon spread its steel-like wings and soared through the sky.

[I’ll come.]

The one hastily scribbled line was clearly meant for Nerys. She questioned whether it was proper for a Grand Duke to personally step in for such matters, but… well, it wasn’t entirely inappropriate either.

“His Grace is coming in person!”

The Lord of Dreykum, now having to receive not only numerous guests but his own liege as well without warning, nearly fainted with a mix of honor and panic, pouring all his effort into preparations.

Then, on a day when the sky was unusually blue and the scent of blooming gardenias filled the air before the castle gates—

Cledwyn arrived, accompanied by a select elite of the Platinum Order.

The knights, dressed in light yet dignified summer uniforms, lined up before the gates of the lord’s castle. The lord rushed out in reverence and bowed deeply. His retainers followed suit.

“It is an honor to have you here, Your Grace!”

Cledwyn dismounted from his black horse and smiled faintly. Nerys, standing beside the lord, offered a polite bow.

In such situations, etiquette allowed a visitor to greet either the lord or Nerys first without issue. As expected by those from Maindulante, Cledwyn addressed Nerys first.

“Were you safe and well?”

The MacKinnon family, standing apart from the Maindulante members, were quietly impressed by the Grand Duke they had only heard about in stories. Wasn’t he supposed to be cold and cruel? But this seemed… gentle, even?

Rumors really couldn’t be trusted. That was the general content of their whispered comments. Blending in with the crowd in the guise of an attendant, Talfrin quietly chuckled.

There was no way they could have arrived this quickly from Penmewick with that many people if they’d taken an official route. The Platinum Order had likely experienced many things on the journey that would never associate the word “gentle” with their lord.

Even the lord of Dreykum, suspecting as much, held no complaint about not receiving so much as a glance. He politely gestured inside.

“Please, come in.”

“Yes. Let’s go.”

Cledwyn finally responded to the lord, but immediately turned back to Nerys. His extended arm came so naturally that she instinctively linked arms with him.

There was nothing strange about the two entering the castle arm in arm. High-born ladies were traditionally escorted by men of equal rank, and who here would dare try to take the Grand Duke’s advisor from his side?

Still, it was rare for two people—neither married, engaged, nor siblings—to appear so natural together.

In terms of rank, Diane and Joyce should’ve entered next after Cledwyn and Nerys. But invoking the etiquette between guest and host, Diane chose to take the lord’s arm. As they walked, she whispered to him, her eyes sharply observing the pair ahead.

“His Grace seems to have great respect for the advisor, wouldn’t you say?”

The lord had learned very well over the past few days that Diane and Nerys were friends. He responded in a friendly whisper, displaying none of the arrogance or exclusivity said to characterize people from Maindulante.

“Oh, certainly. Do you know what kind of person our advisor is? I’ve known His Grace a long time and have never seen him slight someone competent.”

Though that alone couldn’t explain it. There was a comfortable ease between the two that felt almost habitual.

Diane and the lord understood perfectly what was hidden in each other’s words. They smiled at one another and began chatting with practiced elegance.

Joyce, the Platinum knights, and the officials and retainers of Dreykum followed behind. Talfrin moved among them unnoticed, disguised as a leisurely returning servant.

❖ ❖ ❖

“Silver Moon, huh.”

In the small drawing room that Nerys had been using as an office.

After the welcoming ceremony, with only the White Swan Castle group remaining, Cledwyn muttered the name. The captain of the guard offered a remorseful explanation.

“We apprehended eight operatives. It’s rare to see this many mobilized at once. I failed in my duty to protect you.”

“This isn’t due to any lack of vigilance on your part. It’s irrational. To think someone would send this many assassins just to kill the advisor of Maindulante and the MacKinnon siblings.”

Nerys calmly countered.

Advisor…! The guard captain, who must have been fuming after nearly losing her, was moved by the unexpected leniency from his superior.

Hmph. Until just a couple of years ago, our lord was being ambushed like it was a daily routine. You should’ve known better. Talfrin wanted to snark, but since he himself couldn’t be completely absolved of blame this time, he held his tongue. After all, if the Silver Moon had been involved, as head of Yaheon, he should’ve known first.

Regardless of what either of the responsible parties thought, Nerys truly didn’t believe this had happened due to a lack of caution.

There probably hadn’t been a single suspicious sign before the incident. Camill’s assassins were known to mirror their master’s philosophy: everything was handled with layers upon layers of habitual safety checks.

Cledwyn was lost in thought for a moment. Nerys felt a slight pang of guilt.

Considering how many Silver Moon were involved, the group had gotten off lightly. From what Nerys knew, it was almost record-breaking. Still, there had been casualties.

‘It was an attack meant for me.’

Even though she hadn’t provoked it, it hurt and made her angry.

Cledwyn glanced at her, then flicked her forehead with a finger.

Only four people were in the room: Cledwyn, Nerys, Talfrin, and the captain of the guard. The two subordinates didn’t react—they were used to seeing such interactions between the pair.

“What are you doing?”

Nerys scowled. Cledwyn looked at her seriously.

“If you take up a sword, you accept the risk of injury or death. I gave the mission, and someone else launched the attack. Don’t act like you’re the one who killed them.”

That’s what she was thinking? The captain of the guard, unable to read Nerys’s expression, looked both moved and pained.

“Yes, Advisor. Anyone who becomes a knight knows they must accept the worst outcomes. The families will be well compensated, and thanks to the priest’s healing, all the injured recovered.”

Nerys knew that. And yet, she felt slightly baffled. These people were speaking to her as if she were a naïve student seeing someone get hurt for the first time.

In her previous life, Nerys had many guards tasked with protecting her—some were injured, some died. The difference now was that those guards had been more like imperial watchdogs, cloaked as knights.

‘Ah.’

Of course. That’s why this felt different.

The knights injured or killed this time were her guards. Unlike before, they didn’t treat her like a tool to monitor or preserve for someone else’s benefit.

They lived in White Swan Castle with her. They greeted her daily. They considered her family.

So their injuries were nothing like what happened in her past life.

Seeing the shift in her expression, Cledwyn smiled faintly. Mourning the death of one’s people was right and proper. But if you didn’t understand why you were grieving, nothing good would come of it.

Most problems in the world could only be solved by identifying their true cause.

That included the Imperial Family’s inexplicable antics.

“They were bold to step foot on my land. We’ll settle that debt. But why the sudden move? Did they perhaps catch wind of that matter?”

What Cledwyn referred to was the military maneuver orchestrated by the Marquis of Tipion earlier in the spring.

Throughout winter, the Marquis and his men had been confined to White Swan Castle, with all contact with the outside strictly prohibited. But Nerys had led the Marquis to believe there was a secret passage to Ailora, and when he wrote a letter to his son mentioning it, that letter was “delivered.”

Reports said the Imperial forces suddenly pressured Ailora based on that tip, scrambling their hidden troops and causing internal chaos. The Marquisate of Tipion had since earned the Emperor’s inexplicable wrath, and it was no secret they were now suffering as a result.

Of everyone in the room, the only one unaware of these circumstances was the captain of the guard, who tilted his head. Nerys shook hers.

“There’s nothing in that letter that would implicate me. We screened everything. And our prisoners are still in good condition.”

“Then they must think now’s the time to dig deeper. Camill? Or the Imperial Family?”

Maindulante had often been attacked by the Imperial Family without provocation. Cledwyn assumed this was just another incident of the same nature, and his eyes grew cold.

‘I suppose they need to be taught a lesson.’

The ducal house had received its title from the Imperial Family but had never bowed in servitude. The title had been awarded not because the family requested it, but because the Empire needed a way to bring the massive Maindulante territory into their structure.

Thus, Maindulante had less loyalty to the Empire than any other region.

And so, there was no need to be charitable to those causing trouble.

‘Who do they think they’re dealing with?’

Cledwyn’s eyes turned icy.

“Camill recently gained favor by developing a large silver mine in Duchern, didn’t she?”

Talfrin quickly responded.

“Yes, Your Grace.”

“Destroy it. Make it look like negligence. Budget doesn’t matter.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

Eager to please the Emperor and Empress, Camill often lavished them with gifts. The Duchern silver mine had been her most prized project for the past three years.

Talfrin left the room in high spirits, already planning how to not just cover it as mismanagement—but make everyone believe the entire silver mine venture had been an elaborate scam from the beginning.

As he walked down the corridor, he spotted Diane quickly turning her head away. Though she’d hidden behind a pillar, to an assassin like Talfrin, it was as good as waving at him.

Spying on a private meeting with the Grand Duke, Nerys, and the captain of the guard—it was highly suspicious behavior. Yet neither the knights nor the assassins stopped her. First, because she was too far to hear anything. Second, because her attempts at stealth were so obviously clumsy.

Talfrin shook his head and walked away as if he couldn’t care less. Diane, watching from afar, flushed red.

She hadn’t meant to pry, but couldn’t help being curious how well the people of Maindulante treated Nerys. She hadn’t intended to approach, especially once she saw only a select few remaining inside.

Still… who was that servant? How could someone be in a private meeting with the Grand Duke, Nerys, and the captain—and then casually stroll out?

“Who was that?”

The word “servant” brought someone to mind. The attendant who gave her a handkerchief after her fight with Nerys. The one who carried her out of the fire.

That man now looked completely different—different face, different clothes—but somehow felt like the same person.

Whatever she was thinking, Diane forgot it the moment Nerys and Cledwyn emerged from the room. As their eyes met, Diane beamed and waved.

Nerys smiled and waved back. Relieved to see her friend in good spirits, Diane was about to leave—until Nerys spoke first.

“Come on, Di. I’m going for a walk. Want to join me?”

“A walk?”

Diane happily ran up to Nerys and linked arms with her.

With Cledwyn on her right and Diane on her left, Nerys found the situation strangely amusing. It resembled the graduation ball formation—but their relationships were now very different.

And also, somehow, the same.

Nerys felt a ticklish warmth in her chest. The sunlight spilling into the corridor looked dazzling, like gold.

They began walking, chatting idly as they went.