Chapter 205
As the most promising young nobles of society vanished one by one, the aristocrats of the capital, Pellena, fell into confusion.
First, there were the Elandria siblings, Nellusion and Valentin — paragons of rank and grace — whose father, the Duke, had been exposed for treason. With the family scattered, the Elandria name would no longer carry the same proud weight it once did.
Then, the Marquis of Kendall’s daughter, Aidalia, who had studied in the Papal States, was sent home dead — murdered by the former Pope Omnitus. The Marquis, refusing to believe it, was said to keep his daughter’s corpse at home, convinced she still lived.
The Marquis of Lykeandros’s daughter, Megara, once expected to rule society after graduation, had been revealed as a bastard born of a commoner — now reduced to a lowly concubine.
And Natasha Grünehals, after screaming and losing control at the Crown Prince’s banquet, abruptly announced her marriage to a distant relative and left the capital. Rumor quietly suggested she and Megara had quarreled over the Crown Prince, Abelus.
In the wake of these absences, no one expected who would rise to fill the void.
The Grand Duchess of Maindulante — whose Jeweled Eyes had already stirred noble gossip — had never been well-liked in society. Her birth was humble, and her sudden marriage to the Grand Duke had elevated her above most noblewomen overnight.
Yet, surprisingly, she proved born to rule.
Shortly after her marriage, Nerys of Maindulante had ignored every invitation. Then, suddenly, she began to host her own gatherings — first for the social elite, then for those of lesser note, and finally for people no one had heard of at all.
The Grand Duke and Duchess, once known for their reclusive nature, now opened their doors wide. And anyone who met the Grand Duchess once longed to be invited again.
There were two reasons for this.
First, the hospitality at Maindulante House was unparalleled.
The meals were sumptuous, tailored perfectly to each guest’s taste yet refined enough to uphold the ducal dignity. Lavish banquets that would have been legendary elsewhere were held daily in her estate.
Second, the people one met there were genuinely useful.
Even poor, obscure guests who didn’t know why they’d been invited soon found themselves blessed with opportunities, rising as future leaders in their fields. After several such cases, word spread that the Grand Duchess looked after her own.
As a result, Maindulante swiftly filled the power vacuum left by four great houses.
And some time later — as spring deepened, painting the capital in the pink of budding flowers — Nellusion Elandria returned to Pellena.
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“The Duke of Elandria assumed his son would stay at the family mansion, but Nellusion refused and instead moved into a small villa on the outskirts of the capital,” Talfrin reported over breakfast. “He even had a room prepared for his sister.”
Nerys listened impassively, nodding as she ate. Beside her, Cledwyn — who sat close, serving her food himself — remarked lightly,
“A thoughtful brother, then.”
Talfrin smirked. Dora shook her head.
“Nellusion knows what Camille wants. Securing Valentin will be his top priority.”
No one understood Camille’s mind better than Nerys. She could all but see through the woman’s every plan.
To wound the Elandria family but not destroy it entirely, the best move was to depose the current Duke and force Nellusion into the seat prematurely. Among the remaining noblewomen, Valentin was the only suitable candidate left for Crown Princess.
When an old patriarch was suddenly replaced by a young head, chaos followed — Maindulante itself had lived through it. And for the daughter of a deposed house to marry into the imperial family was, under normal circumstances, an honor — but now, a dangerous one.
If a fallen house barely survived through its married daughter, the vassals and lords beneath it tended to cling to her for protection. History was filled with cases where a house’s power transferred entirely to its in-laws.
Unless, of course, the new head was Nellusion.
‘Camille has the habit of thinking everyone but herself is a fool,’ Nerys thought.
Truth be told, if anyone in the imperial family could be called truly political, it was Camille. Not the simple-minded Abelus, not the lazy Izet — but Camille, who could bend nobles to her will.
Yet the same arrogance born of endless victory would soon trip her. Nellusion had once built his own kingdom from nothing — though neither of them remembered that in this life.
“Make preparations to spread rumors that the succession is being contested,” Nerys ordered. “And ensure the Duke remains unharmed — we can’t have him dying too soon.”
‘Elandria must not unite under Nellusion.’
She had torn the family apart precisely so that internal discord would persist. To that end, she would make it look as though the Duke had been ‘reluctantly’ stripped of his title.
For once, Talfrin’s expression grew solemn. “Yes, Your Grace. I’ve made sure no one, even within the household, can approach the Duke without scrutiny.”
“Even within?” Nerys mused. “Ah, yes. By now, the Silver Moon operatives might have infiltrated.”
Half of the Elandria household servants had already been replaced — a result of Nerys’s own design. It was likely that Camille’s agents were already embedded near the Duke.
She accepted that with a nod. But Cledwyn, offering her a grape, interjected.
“The Duke values his life. He only keeps long-trusted attendants close. The ones to watch aren’t Camille’s agents.”
“Oh?”
The grapes were sweet and rich — rare this season. Nerys blinked up at him, her expression saying ‘these are delicious.’
Cledwyn chuckled. “The one he should fear most is his son.”
“Do you think Nellusion would go so far as patricide just to claim the title early? It’s all his eventually. If he gets caught, the crown would have a hold on him forever. If anything, keeping his father alive preserves the house’s stability.”
Nellusion was prudent — frugal, even. Nerys knew better than anyone how completely he drained those he used, keeping them alive just long enough to serve his purpose.
But Cledwyn only smiled, pressing soft kisses to her forehead before refilling her cup.
“Be that as it may, the dukedom isn’t his true aim. It’s part of it — but not the whole.”
“Then what? Something grander?”
He met her eyes. “Much grander. Compared to his real goal, a dukedom is nothing. He’ll remove anyone who stands in his way.”
How absurd. Nerys laughed quietly and shook her head.
“Nellusion cares only for his family, no one else. He couldn’t bear that I wouldn’t bend to him — that’s why he acted out before. But by now, he must know I’m beyond his reach. Still, it doesn’t hurt to be cautious.”
Cledwyn studied her face and smiled faintly.
That man’s unsettling gaze had lingered on his wife for far too long. He probably believed his feelings were calculated — purely strategic.
If he truly meant to ‘use’ her, he would have adopted her the moment her mother died, securing her before anyone else could. Even before her Jeweled Eyes awakened, her worth had been immense.
But Nellusion had always been a coward. He had looked at her with burning hunger, yet muttered nonsense about being her brother, rather than kneeling and begging for her love.
She had never noticed — and that was his tragedy.
‘Like an animal marking territory,’ Cledwyn thought grimly. ‘He tries to claim everyone from his family as his own, even when betrayal is obvious. He always drags them back somehow.’
He probably knew she didn’t care for him. That was why, when he had the chance, he’d tried to trap her physically — and failed.
“Still,” Cledwyn said aloud, “better safe than sorry. If you happen to meet him, just walk away. Don’t speak to him until you’re back home.”
‘Home.’ She liked the sound of that. Nerys drank her water gracefully and nodded.
“Yes. But there’s still one thing left to confirm before we go.”
“What’s that?”
“That Megara joins hands with Nellusion.”
Her tone was calm, but her eyes gleamed.
“By now, Megara must be restless. She convinced herself she’s as good as the Crown Princess because there’s no wife above her — and that’s how she secured her position as official concubine. But society has turned its back on her completely.”
Nerys’s sudden decision to open her mansion to the public had two purposes.
First, to give the Moriér Merchant Group more freedom to move.
Though the company had grown rapidly, it was still a newcomer. If Camille ever discovered Nerys’s connection to Joan Moriér and tried to suppress her through older trading houses, Nerys needed allies beyond the Mackinnon family.
So she had begun inviting young, influential commoners to her gatherings. Joan and Aaron excelled, using these events to etch their names into noble circles and business networks alike.
The second reason was to rob Megara of the spotlight.
Rumor said Abelus was utterly infatuated with her — treating her with more courtesy than when she was a marquis’s daughter.
Megara was the sort of girl who could captivate anyone she set her eyes on. Even with her mother’s disgrace exposed, being favored by the future emperor was enough to rebuild her standing. Left unchecked, she might have regained her influence in court.
But Nerys had drawn all eyes to herself instead.
Now, Megara must be seething — even though, objectively, she was succeeding at what mattered most: keeping Abelus bound to her.
‘She won’t be able to stand it,’ Nerys thought.
That pride of hers wasn’t ordinary. This was the girl who had tormented others simply for sharing her eye color — she wouldn’t tolerate being ignored.
“She’ll look for an opening,” Nerys continued. “With no Crown Princess yet, the court won’t fully accept her. She’s the intruder among the entrenched. She’ll need to remove someone to make space for herself.”
“And that someone is Camille,” Cledwyn said.
“Yes. A sister-in-law who meddles in her lover’s affairs won’t be tolerated. And to pull that off, she’ll need allies — someone she can sway.”
“The Elandria family, then. They can’t risk sending another hostage to the palace.”
“Exactly.”
Cledwyn chuckled, pressing a kiss to the back of her hand.
“Everything you do is fascinating,” he murmured. “I’ll look forward to it.”
He meant it — he could spend his life simply watching her move.