Chapter 67
If Maya could capture people’s hearts with her frank charm and her way with the sword, then Tristan had his looks and his eloquence.
He had everything his parents had passed down to him to fulfill his role as a duke, yet it was bitter to realize he could not make effective use of it.
Every time, he felt smaller before Maya.
“I must wait.”
Tristan shouted this silently in his heart and endured again today.
All he could do for the sake of the future was prepare.
One day, all of this would come to an end.
There was hope.
As Hayden’s hesitation dragged on, Maya grew restless.
Waiting until Tristan returned had already pushed her patience to the limit.
Tick-tock.
Even the three days she had spent here, even the time they were spending talking now—all of it felt long to Maya.
“Should I talk about the awakening?”
If she revealed the power of Pendragon, would she be able to persuade this man?
But in the past, Hayden had not liked Maya.
If that was because he did not favor Pendragon’s power?
Maya thought deeply, then decided to speak of the person Tristan had mentioned—
The marquis’s sickly wife, Kleine Rebour.
“…I’ve heard you cherish your wife dearly.”
“I don’t know why Kleine’s name should come up here.”
The man who had been hesitating just moments ago turned into a savage beast.
“I heard she suffered an accident. One that left her heart weak ever since.”
This information had been obtained through Tristan and Robert’s cooperation.
Tristan had brought intelligence from the imperial palace, and Robert had sorted and extracted what was necessary.
Then, in case of emergency, Tristan had passed it along to Maya.
“You seem to know more than I expected.”
Hayden narrowed his eyes.
“I have something to tell you about that accident.”
It was never pleasant to bring up an accident that had risked someone’s life, nor to make a deal out of it.
But for this matter to succeed, it was a necessary step.
“And what is that?”
“I can tell you about the people who orchestrated that accident.”
“…And how do you know such a thing?”
Hayden’s brows furrowed, naked hostility on his face.
“I heard it through my information network.”
Since she had heard it from Tristan, it was indeed an information network.
“That network of yours interests me. Can it be trusted?”
“…You don’t trust me?”
Maya had thought they could strike a deal right away, but Hayden was not so easily swayed.
Now she was at a loss for how to continue.
“I don’t know enough—so going straight in doesn’t work.”
She was still puzzling over what to do when—
“From here on, let me speak.”
A sudden uninvited guest took a seat beside her.
“Tristan.”
It seemed he had safely returned to his true form.
“You are….”
“Pleasure to meet you, Marquis Rebour. Forgive my late introduction.”
His baritone voice was deep and smooth, like being in a cave.
But his eyes were cold, like those of a shrewd businessman.
“My name is Tristan Bayarden.”
Hayden Rebour carefully observed the man who had suddenly walked into the room.
It didn’t seem to be a lie.
The duchess had also accepted the duke’s appearance as natural.
“…A pleasure, Your Grace. I am Hayden Rebour.”
As he offered his greeting, Hayden fell into thought.
“Were they here together?”
Then why had he not revealed himself sooner?
And why did his appearance resemble that tall attendant from earlier…?
“Wait.”
Marquis Rebour’s mind stalled.
The attendant he had seen earlier and this Duke Tristan before him—indeed, they resembled one another.
Their aura, their voice, even their build were all different, yet there was no mistaking it.
If he had not seen them back-to-back, he might have thought them the same person at different ages.
“Before we discuss what you’re thinking….”
Tristan smiled, locking eyes with Hayden.
“Let us first speak of the accident involving your wife.”
The frown on Marquis Rebour’s face faltered.
“That information came from me, so I vouch for it.”
By cleanly revealing the source of the information, Tristan naturally took control of the conversation.
“If you stand with me, I will help you exact vengeance on the one who hurt your wife.”
The Recerfield ledgers had proven extremely useful.
He had no intention of exploiting people’s weaknesses to manipulate them.
But if sharing the truth of their crimes—murder, fraud, complicity—brought both justice to victims and benefit to himself, then there was no reason not to.
For victims, it was the chance to hear the truth and make their own decision.
For Tristan, it was a chance to build rapport.
“…How could Your Grace know something I myself did not?”
“I discovered it in the imperial library. It was hidden, but I was fortunate.”
Tristan openly admitted he had stolen it.
It was also a subtle way of declaring his antagonism toward Recerfield.
“If this knowledge makes you uncomfortable, we can consider today’s meeting as never having happened.”
Tristan eased the pressure with a natural grace.
“I came because I want the West and I to share the same cause.”
“…”
“On matters that everyone knew in their hearts, but could not easily speak of.”
Listening beside him, Maya marveled inwardly. To speak of treason so obliquely yet clearly—remarkable.
Moreover, by using the word “everyone,” he subtly implied Hayden shared the same thoughts.
“So this is the aristocrats’ way of speech.”
Seren had spoken like this as well, she recalled.
“And what prompted the North, which had long been quiet, to step forward now?”
“Because of a new wind blowing in the North. Surely you can guess what that is.”
Tristan turned to Maya, his lips curving upward.
“Because of Maya.”
Tristan had spoken the truth without calculation, but for a devoted husband like Hayden, the claim that the change was thanks to someone’s wife was especially persuasive.
Still, the issues before them remained.
“If I say I’ll join you, will you tell me about the strange phenomenon I witnessed?”
“Such risks must be borne, must they not?”
Hayden considered the possibility.
The young duke before him was spirited, clear-eyed, and principled.
Completely unlike Emperor Recerfield—that much he could discern at a glance, honed by years of experience.
His wife’s vengeance also mattered deeply. Already fragile, Kleine had grown so weak she could hardly take a walk.
“Is the decision too difficult?”
Tristan observed Hayden quietly.
As the leader of the Western noble faction, Hayden’s life was otherwise quiet.
Surely he did not wish to re-enter the eye of the storm.
“You can take more time to think about our alliance. But as thanks for letting us stay here, I’ll give you this.”
“…”
Tristan handed him documents regarding Kleine Rebour’s accident.
The matter was linked to none other than the current imperial knight commander, Graham.
At first Hayden only received the papers blankly, but soon his hands began trembling.
Graham—that man…! Hayden groaned inwardly.
Before Hayden’s marriage, Graham had shown disturbing persistence in pursuing Kleine.
The documents detailed not just the culprit, but the entire scheme—the motives, the manipulations—all clearly laid out.
Had they come from anyone but Tristan, Hayden might have thought the holder of these documents had orchestrated the whole affair.
Such was the weight of this card. But why reveal it now?
“…Why give this to me at this moment?”
“Because I wish to dispel the doubts you’re entertaining….”
Tristan met Hayden’s eyes squarely.
“…And because I’m confident that even without this, you would stand with us.”
The duke’s mastery of words was impressive—hard to believe this was someone who had so long avoided social circles.
He could pierce into hearts, dismantle barriers in unexpected ways.
Not an ordinary man at all.
And such a man’s empire….
“No less than the union of House Bayarden and Pendragon.”
…Even his last words shook Hayden’s heart.
For Hayden had long been interested in the founding legends.
“…You’ve studied me well.”
“To win someone’s heart, one must use every proper, fervent method.”
Tristan extended a hand, clasped with Maya’s, toward Hayden.
“Will you join us?”
At last, Hayden bowed his head.
House Bayarden and House Rebour now shared the same boat.
Tristan calmly revealed his curse.
“A curse on a ducal house—truly incredible.”
The boy Hayden had glimpsed earlier had looked tender and immature, clearly younger than Tristan’s official age.
If he had gone before Recerfield like that, he would have become prey.
“Had the emperor known, he would have branded House Bayarden as a cursed family.”
After all, Recerfield was already desperate to devour them.
