CHAPTER 70……………………
From the moment he heard from the Keihel Assassins that the Imperial Knights were heading for Minerva, Mars had felt uneasy.
Those fools had told him so confidently just to prepare the rest of the payment—then all contact was lost.
No bodies could be found, and even the ring he had entrusted to them had vanished without a trace.
“Idiots! And they call themselves the Empire’s greatest assassins!”
Bang! Bang!
Mars pounded the desk with his fists, his rage so great he nearly smashed the furniture above it as well.
“Shh, Mars.”
A quiet voice cut through his fury.
Right beside him, as if unaffected by the noise, Gabriel stroked the head of the black-haired boy in her arms and said softly,
“You’ll wake Cassius.”
Her red eyes fixed calmly on Mars. The tone was gentle, as though coaxing a child, which only made Mars click his tongue.
Wake up? As if.
The boy was sleeping soundly, his steady breathing audible even here.
‘To be able to sleep in a situation like this… does he have no sense at all?’
Such a harsh judgment to make of her own son, but to Mars it was natural.
He was this tense, yet Gabriel looked relaxed.
His irritation quickly shifted from the assassins to her.
“At this rate the trial will be reopened! The ring might already be in Minerva’s hands—we can’t afford to sit back! You said soon there’d be no need to prepare for the trial at all!”
“And that’s why I told you to use expendable men we could cut loose. Why didn’t you listen?”
“They said they were the most reliable!”
“That’s what happens when you try to fill your stomach in one gulp.”
Gabriel spoke as if chiding a gambler who’d lost a little pocket change.
Mars narrowed his eyes. Why was she so unruffled?
If he went down, she’d go down with him.
Mars had always been tormented by an inferiority complex.
He struggled and schemed, on edge every moment, while Minerva and Gabriel seemed always above him, laughing down at him.
With a hollow laugh, he twisted his lips into a sneer.
“Ha. Right. You’re always the clever one. Since you’re so brilliant, you handle everything! Bring that ring back yourself!”
Shouting until veins bulged in his neck, Mars stormed out and slammed the door.
Even that noise didn’t wake Cassius.
Gabriel gently stroked the boy’s hair as he slept, and chuckled softly.
‘For a moment I worried things might go wrong… but as expected of Minerva. And the “variable” helped too.’
For the first time in a while, she felt genuinely pleased.
‘Three times.’
Today marked exactly three.
Mars didn’t know, but everything had gone according to her plan.
She had wondered if Minerva could really survive this crisis, but the variable had worked perfectly.
‘And planting anxiety in the Emperor beforehand made it all the easier.’
Minerva alone could never have stood against Keihel. By prodding Mars’s carelessness and nudging the Emperor, she’d set things in motion.
The Imperial Knights had even witnessed Mars dealing with Keihel. The ever-dutiful Theodora had rushed to report it straight to the Emperor.
‘How admirable, Sir Theodora.’
Should she send her a gift later?
‘She saved Minerva, after all… though since Minerva will discard her without a second thought, maybe there’s no point worrying about it.’
Gabriel could almost see Minerva’s disgusted face, which made her laugh quietly.
But the laughter soon faded as one concern remained.
Mars’s ring.
‘I never imagined she would find it…’
However Minerva had done it, one fact was certain: she now held proof that Mars was guilty.
At times like this, it was hard to believe Mars and Minerva were twins born of the same womb.
One of them was just so overwhelmingly lacking.
Gabriel gazed out the distant window.
‘Yes, that ring needs to be retrieved.’
It might not be strong enough evidence for the trial, so Minerva probably wouldn’t use it—but it was safer to erase all risks.
She would have liked to fetch it herself and meet an old ally along the way, but it was only three times so far. Minerva surely wouldn’t remember.
‘I’ll have to use Archibald again.’
She’d told him to steal it while Minerva was traveling, but he’d managed to lose his own luggage instead.
Best not to expect too much this time either.
Gabriel sighed softly and brushed the hair from Cassius’s forehead.
“Cassius, Cassius. Please… be of use to me.”
Don’t grow up to be a fool like those other men.
You are my son.
Like a mother whispering love, Gabriel murmured her scorn for the pathetic humans into Cassius’s ear, as though singing him a lullaby.
At that same time, in the eastern wing of the Grand Duke’s castle.
Ayla Eckhart’s east wing was nothing short of a paradise for children.
A garden perfect for hide-and-seek, a room filled only with dolls, a library overflowing with fairy-tales.
As always, Ayla wondered if she would get to see Aslan today. If she could, which place should she show her first? The thought delighted her.
But first, she should ask permission to go meet her.
Just as she finished preparing to leave her room, a maid entered, bowing after receiving word from outside.
“My lady. His Grace the Grand Duke is waiting for you.”
“Father?”
Ayla blinked her rabbit-like eyes.
Why so suddenly in the morning?
If it were just to invite her to a meal, he would have sent someone.
Strange, but it wasn’t unusual for a father to call for his daughter. So Ayla left her chamber smiling brightly as usual.
In the reception room, Lloyd was pacing, too restless even to sit.
He looked as though he’d come rushing, his hair disheveled by the wind.
The sight was so serious that Ayla too grew tense.
“Father.”
“Ayla, this is bad.”
“Yes… what’s happened?”
Had their ruse already been discovered by his wife?
Gulp. Ayla swallowed dryly, waiting for Lloyd’s heavy words.
At last he spoke.
“Her Highness wishes to dine with us. The four of us together.”
“…That’s all?”
Hadn’t they eaten together before?
That sounded like good news, so Ayla felt relieved, though puzzled.
But Lloyd shook his head grimly.
“She will certainly bombard us with questions about the Grand Duke. The meal is set for this noon—only three hours from now.”
“Ah!”
Only then did Ayla realize the gravity of the situation.
Minerva was sharp.
If they answered with falsehoods made up on the spot, nervous Lloyd would surely slip.
And sooner or later, Minerva would probe Ayla as well.
She could give simple replies, but there were limits to improvising without a shared story.
She’d see through them!
‘We absolutely cannot be caught.’
Ayla’s eyes hardened with resolve.
Lloyd too nodded firmly.
“Let’s get our stories straight. First, Ayla, remember: you only saw the Grand Duke that first day, when you were with me.”
“Yes. Since that day, I’ve never seen His Grace again.”
Father and daughter nodded together, perfectly in sync.
Now came the time to draft a list of likely questions and prepare their answers in advance.
When the appointed lunch hour arrived, Lloyd accompanied Ayla to the villa.
As always, he greeted Minerva with his handsome face arranged in a gentle smile.
“My lady, did you sleep well last night?”
“Yes, thanks to you.”
Minerva returned his warmth with a pleasant smile of her own.
But inwardly, she scrutinized him.
At the Menthe estate she had thought him well-dressed, but here, in the Grand Duke’s mansion, she noticed something more.
‘He carries himself far better than that Mars fool.’
Though known for heavy workloads, Lloyd had no forward stoop, no rounded shoulders. His back was straight.
He didn’t slouch or lean on one leg.
Clearly, proper posture had been drilled into him from childhood.
‘And his swordsmanship was impressive too.’
An aide equally versed in both the pen and the sword was rare. Even Luisa, whom Minerva had trained with great effort, had only become her closest aide through sheer dedication.
Her hawk-sharp eyes glittered—until Ayla quickly interjected with a greeting.
“My lady, is life in the villa comfortable for you?”
At the girl’s voice, Minerva’s face softened instantly, as though she had never been analyzing anyone.
“Thanks to your thoughtfulness, I’m quite well.”
While replying gently, Minerva studied Ayla too.
She already knew the child was dressed finer than most nobles.
But here, in this vast castle, with such fine clothes and such upright posture, Ayla could almost pass for the Grand Duke’s daughter herself.
From the pair, Minerva could draw one conclusion.
‘Id Menthe… seems to be a trusted subordinate of the Grand Duke indeed.’
