Chapter 143

The Marquis of Tipion’s procession arrived in a blaze of noise and pomp.

Unlike his last visit, where he arrived with only a few knights and attendants like he was dropping in on a relative, this time the carriage was surrounded by soldiers and flags bearing the marquisate’s crest. Several mounted knights led the way with imposing expressions, and a number of officials followed behind.

But the most notable difference wasn’t the scale of the procession. What stood out most to Cledwyn and Nerys was the crest of the Imperial Family positioned higher and farther forward than that of the marquisate. At the sight, the two shared a knowing smile.

“He’s here.”

“He is.”

Though they hadn’t planned it, they spoke in perfect unison. Talfrin, the soldier accompanying them, looked at the pair with playful exasperation, then quickly composed his face before anyone else noticed.

Even from Cledwyn’s office window, they could see the unruly procession pouring through the castle gates. As Nerys started to rise, Cledwyn stopped her.

“There’s no need to go out. Not for that.”

“That,” of course, referred to both the marquis and Adrian, whom he had just dismissed like trash. Nerys also had no intention of facing them unless necessary. She was curious, though—how exactly did Cledwyn plan to welcome the most hated scoundrel in the Imperial Family?

Cledwyn raised a hand and summoned Aidan, issuing a crisp order.

“Arrest the escapee. If he resists, leave him.”

Not ‘kill him if he resists’? Though you couldn’t exactly kill another high noble in front of royalty, Aidan seemed briefly thrown off by how restrained the command was—clearly out of habit. But, as always, he loyally moved to carry out the order.

Nerys chuckled inwardly. The marquis’s last visit—his purpose, his treatment, his arrest, and his escape—had all been unofficial and tacit. Meaning, depending on how one framed the story, either side could make a completely different claim.

So even as an escaped prisoner, he was now boldly flying his banner and marching in with demands for an apology.

But Cledwyn was clearly drawing a hard line from the start. The previous imprisonment had been just, and the marquis had no right to expect anything more.

Soon, commotion erupted at the gate. Aidan and several Platinum knights surrounded the marquis’s halted carriage, while his own knights guarded it. Though the office was too far to hear clearly, a few angry shouts echoed, followed by the carriage door opening.

The marquis stepped out first. He looked even more haggard than he had during the winter, and worse than he had when he escaped that summer. His oversized finery only emphasized the frailty of his withered frame.

Next emerged a man in his early thirties, his dark blond hair slicked back stylishly and a cocky smirk on his face. The luxurious outfit clashed with the setting but was all too familiar to Nerys.

‘Adrian Vistaut.’

Through the window, she watched as the two visitors clashed with the locals. She couldn’t hear the words, but the tension was obvious.

“There’s a pretty obedient mutt here for a land of savages.”

Startled by the sudden voice, Nerys turned to see Cledwyn grinning.

“But if the master’s a monster, will it at least throw the dog a decent bone? Wanna come to my house, puppy?”

That shameless tone was unmistakable. Adrian.

Nerys realized Cledwyn was mimicking the conversation outside for her benefit.

“If you insult my lord, I won’t tolerate it. Why not? Go ahead and don’t. I’m curious what you’ll do about it. Raise your sword at a royal? Just letting you know this land reeks of treason, hmm?”

The junior officials in the room gaped. They had never heard anyone speak so bluntly or rudely about Maindulante.

Only Cledwyn, the so-called ‘monster,’ remained indifferent. He shrugged.

“Maybe today’s the day Aidan rebels against the crown.”

“Don’t joke. Not right now.”

So… later would be fine? The officials weren’t sure if they were supposed to laugh at their superior’s boldness. Nerys rose again, but Cledwyn gestured for her to sit.

“There’s no need. He’s not the type to draw his sword without orders.”

True. Aidan wouldn’t even flinch if his family were insulted.

Nerys could easily guess how Adrian came to be here. It was so clear. The viscount, eager to be rid of him. The marquis, too scared to travel alone but still needing to see Cledwyn. Adrian, pretending to reluctantly accept while extracting extra bribes.

‘He probably wanted to come the most.’

Camille, after all, wouldn’t just let the loss of several agents go unanswered. Adrian would cause a ruckus while the Silver Moon infiltrated the castle unnoticed.

From Adrian’s perspective, letting the marquis get arrested the moment they arrived would ruin the plan. So instead, he’d provoke their side and steer things toward his pace. But Aidan wasn’t so easily baited.

‘A man with nothing to fear.’

Nerys felt genuine admiration. In her past life, she’d seen people despise Adrian, mock him, curse him. But never someone who truly didn’t care. Cledwyn was the first.

Sure enough, the uproar outside settled. Surrounded by Maindulante’s knights, the marquis and Adrian crossed the courtyard.

Cledwyn asked leisurely,

“So, is there something you want me to do?”

He obviously knew their arrival was part of Nerys’s plan. She smiled.

“Trust me.”

“I always do. Anything else?”

“That’s enough.”

‘Trust’—the word struck something deep in her. She looked away, just as the office doors opened and their ‘guests’ entered.

Aidan came in first, followed by Adrian and the marquis. With their own knights left outside, the two men were completely surrounded by Maindulante forces.

Naturally, their expressions were grim. Adrian, visibly irritated, was greeted by Nerys with a composed, distant nod. Cledwyn didn’t even glance at them.

“It’s an honor to receive you.”

Adrian froze the moment he met Nerys’s eyes. His gaze locked on her Jeweled Eyes with undisguised greed. The marquis, meanwhile, could barely look away from Cledwyn long enough to spare her a glance.

“The rumors were true!”

Adrian clapped his hands, his lecherous expression returning. He even took the liberty of leering at Nerys’s face.

“And she’s more beautiful than I expected.”

No matter how noble Adrian was and how lowly Nerys’s origins, she was standing here as Maindulante’s representative. His comment and tone were wholly inappropriate. The air around the Maindulante retainers chilled further—if that was even possible.

Yet Nerys responded with a sweet smile.

“You flatter me far too much.”

She didn’t thank him for the compliment. Diplomatically, it was a veiled jab—‘Who are you to judge me?’

Adrian picked up on it. His face stiffened for a moment, then he burst out laughing.

“Relax, relax! Don’t be so tense. I only came because the marquis asked me to. Let’s keep things friendly between great nobles, yeah?”

So he wanted to mediate between the guilty and the wronged? For the sake of noble camaraderie?

Anyone who knew what the marquis had done to the late duchess—or even just the fake Catherine Haricote affair—found those words absurd. No one in the office responded positively.

Adrian didn’t care. He was used to this reaction.

“C-C-Cledwyn.”

The marquis trembled as he finally spoke. Cledwyn looked at him at last.

“Not many escaped prisoners come back of their own free will. Should I admire your courage with stricter surveillance?”

Cledwyn’s pale gray irises glinted like snow. The marquis froze like an animal pinned in place, panting in fear.

A groan escaped his lips.

“You, y-you… Y-you look at your g-grandfather and feel no remorse…”

Was he insane? Everyone in the room was stunned. Who was supposed to be remorseful here?

Adrian smirked.

“Let’s not start fighting already. Think of my reputation as the neutral party. Now then, we’ll rest a bit—lead us to the finest room. Starting tomorrow, we’ll slowly sort out who’s right and who’s wrong.”

Did he think this was a hotel? And who agreed to arbitration?

The scowls around the room deepened.

Only Cledwyn and Nerys remained expressionless. Nerys knew the marquis had clung to whatever excuse he could find just to return—driven by her subtle suggestion.

And Cledwyn? He had surely deduced something similar.

‘He left evidence behind. Of course he’d return to destroy it.’

The late duchess’s Baroque pearl ring was still safely stored in the west palace. Not in her bedroom, but in Nerys’s.

‘Adrian probably doesn’t care about excuses. Let him run wild all he wants…’

Nerys’s eyes flashed cold.

* * *

“Now that’s a woman.”

Adrian’s voice dripped with lewd admiration.

White Swan Castle, which had only hosted internal members for over a decade, had recently welcomed a surprising number of guests: the Marquis of Tipion, the fake Catherine, the MacKinnon group…

The guest rooms were spotless, snacks and tea came promptly, and everything was in order.

But Adrian was used to luxury everywhere he went. No matter how much his hosts despised him, he was always well served. So this admiration wasn’t about hospitality.

“I thought she’d be some ugly country hick, but she looked like a proper noblewoman. Refuses to back down. That chilly air—reminds me of Her Highness Camille.”

He wasn’t alone in the room. A disguised Silver Moon agent posed as his attendant, visibly uncomfortable.

Adrian grinned, amused by the flicker of emotion on that stoic face.

Silver Moon despised impulsive figures like Adrian, and Adrian knew it. But so what?

If the tool gets the job done, that’s enough.

“There’s no way that old man really came here just for an apology. And the duke wouldn’t lock up a noble over some actress. There’s a grudge between them.”

Both the marquis and his son had begged Adrian for help, claiming they’d been wronged and wanted an apology. Yet they kept the real story buried. Even after a long journey, Adrian couldn’t coax the truth out of the delusional old man—and that intrigued him.

A cruel smile curled on his lips.

“There’s a lot we need to find out. Where the pretty one lives. How much protection she has. What the old man’s really after. I don’t know his exact goal, but I’m sure it’s something that’ll hurt these barbarian bastards. Help him—if it suits us.”

“Yes, sir.”

The agent bowed and silently vanished.