Chapter 25
Partner
A teacup was set before Duke Siede, who sat with his gaze half-lowered.
Joseph’s brow creased at the fragrant rose scent rising from the sharp black tea. He had always hated anything perfumed—women’s perfumes, the fruit and floral blends in tea, the sweeteners wafting through a ballroom.
His sensitivity to scent dated back to the war. To mask the stench of blood in the air, incense had been burned in the tents. But instead of erasing it, the mixture of incense and blood became something even fouler, something that haunted him and left him with a chronic insomnia that lingered to this day.
“Your partner will of course be the young lady of House Crow?” the emperor asked.
Of course. Just what he’d expected.
Busy as he already was, the emperor had summoned him only to say this?
Siede shot him a displeased look as the emperor lifted the teacup. Publicly, this same emperor who now looked so thoroughly bored had hosted a lavish victory banquet and praised Duke Joseph Siede’s achievements until his lips were dry.
Joseph himself was no different. At formal events he could smile and offer the occasional flowery remark, but here he simply stared at the table with an empty gaze.
“I intended to,” the duke replied.
He sipped his tea silently, then exhaled a faint hiss of regret.
“But I was a step too late. Lady Crow has already accepted an engagement with Count Martin.”
Once the invitations for the grand ball went out, society women inevitably plunged into a frenzy—shopping with their partners to match gowns and jewelry, dining together, strolling, and often slipping quite naturally into romance. Hildegarde had surely expected as much.
Yet with the ball fast approaching, Duke Siede had remained silent.
Unable to wait any longer and smarting in her pride, Hildegarde accepted Count Martin’s escort.
When Siede finally sent his own invitation a day after learning of this, it went unanswered.
It was his own doing, so he could hardly be offended. In truth, he had intended as much.
“A pity,” he said mildly.
The faint smile at the end of his words wasn’t Siede’s imagination. The emperor’s hand tightened on the chair arm. With a clack, he set down his teacup and spoke.
“So, who will you bring instead?”
Joseph almost retorted that it mattered little whether he came with someone or not—but the image of the fiery Dowager Duchess and of young Elliott clinging tearfully to his trousers flashed before him.
“If you lack a companion, I could introduce someone,” the emperor offered.
“I wouldn’t dare trouble Your Majesty.”
“Trouble? Consider it the least I could do for a war hero.”
“That won’t be necessary.”
“Then you truly have someone?”
Before Siede had arrived, Marquis Crow had already stormed in to complain and then left. The emperor had placated him with a few soothing words, but the encounter had left him annoyed.
If not for the enormous amount of gold the marquis had promised the treasury… The emperor frowned, thinking of the ever-dwindling imperial coffers.
“Indeed I do,” the duke said, a trace of amusement at the corner of his mouth.
He had briefly studied the family trees Elliott had provided and considered potential partners.
But everyone knew of the rumored match between himself and Lady Crow; choosing anyone else carelessly would spark scandal. And from the emperor’s reaction, whoever he brought might invite even more trouble.
He needed a woman who would cause no complications, no matter what happened.
Having sorted his thoughts, Siede finally said, “I plan to attend with Miss Anze of Baron Beaufort’s family.”
“Baron Beaufort?” The emperor frowned.
“A noble house of Velf. His eldest daughter recently became my aide.”
“Your aide?” the emperor repeated in disbelief.
“Yes. She’s extremely capable.”
“So you mean to attend with…your aide? Ha! Hahahaha!”
The emperor burst into laughter and could not stop.
“With that handsome face of yours—and just your aide?”
Siede turned a cool gaze on him.
“‘Just’ an aide, you say? I thought you meant something remarkable.”
The emperor laughed until tears formed at the corners of his eyes.
Siede’s brow knit. Just? Only?
“And why are you so sure of that?” he asked.
“What?”
The emperor’s smile faltered, confused.
“Why assume my aide is insignificant or plain?”
“Well, obviously—”
The emperor bit back the thought that any beautiful, well-born woman would have long since married instead of working under a man like Siede.
“You don’t think it noteworthy that she caught my attention at all?” the duke pressed.
“Well… she may have ability, I suppose,” the emperor allowed.
Privately, he thought it unfortunate for any woman to be noticed by this proud duke.
He gave a soft snort as he turned his head, amused by Siede’s prickly defense of his subordinate.
Arrogant bastard. One day I’ll cut that nose down to size.
Siede’s lips curved. “Shall we make a wager?”
The emperor’s eyes lit with sudden interest—he could never resist a bet involving a woman. “What sort of wager?”
“I hear that at the first grand ball each year, a vote is held to choose the most beautiful young lady in attendance. Unless that tradition vanished while I was at war?”
“It hasn’t. Last year the honor went to the Count of Merlyn’s daughter. Most think the Crow girl will win this time.”
The emperor knew such gossip in remarkable detail.
“If my aide wins that vote,” Siede said evenly, “what will Your Majesty give me?”
The emperor pondered.
He’d heard reports that the duke’s new aide was clever, but never a word about her looks.
In society, a woman of even passable beauty working closely with a duke would already have inspired rumors—truth never mattered when gossip would do.
“You must be confident in her beauty to propose such a bet,” the emperor said.
Siede recalled glimpsing Anze that morning: hair sticking up, eyes bloodshot, dark circles down to her jaw. He nearly laughed aloud. To bet on that? Even he found it absurd.
But true gambling lay in long odds.
Half-lidding his eyes, he smiled. “Naturally.”
“Do you perhaps have…personal motives?” the emperor probed.
“Whatever I say, Your Majesty would find fault,” Siede cut him off.
He simply disliked anyone disparaging those under his protection—nothing more.
“Hm, let’s see…”
Feigning deep thought, the emperor suddenly declared, “How about returning Ahendel to you?”
Siede blinked. “Did you say…Ahendel?”
The emperor nodded, smiling.
Ahendel was the empire’s greatest port city—blessed with a mild climate year-round and overflowing wealth from constant trade. It rivaled the capital itself in riches.
Once it had belonged to House Siede, but for reasons long past, the previous duke had ceded it to the crown. Many said the empire could never have waged its wars without Ahendel’s prosperity.
And now the emperor offered to give it back?
“Then what will you stake?” the emperor asked.
“…”
The emperor’s eyes gleamed with greed, lips stretching into a long, self-satisfied grin.
“What does Your Majesty desire?” Siede asked.
“The command of your forces,” the emperor said smoothly. “The knights and soldiers under you are too many for a mere noble. The war is long over—it’s only right you relinquish them. Don’t you agree?”
The emperor was after the duke’s sword arm.
