Chapter 93…………………………….
Late at night, Duke Bacard was staring out the study window.
He could see Angelus getting down from the carriage.
The memory of the emperor’s resentful gaze on him in the great hall flashed through his mind and he clenched his jaw tightly.
“Duke, did you call me?”
Unlike usual, Angelus’s normally high voice was unnaturally calm. She wore a dark dress that reached her neck and stood as demurely as she could. She then gave a slight curtsey toward the Duke’s back, who was facing the window.
“Duke…”
“Be quiet.”
Angelus flinched at Bacard’s cold voice. Whether she had done anything wrong or not, the tone made her shrink back.
“You said you called for me…”
Instead of answering, he clicked his tongue and turned; his narrow eyes were chillingly cold. Those hateful eyes. The same icy, unemotional stare she had seen from the beginning. Gooseflesh prickled all over her body and Angelus hurriedly bowed her head.
“I told you clearly. Don’t be greedy — just do what I tell you to do.”
“I—I had no greed. I was only doing consultations at the temple—”
Duke Bacard grimaced as if he couldn’t bear to hear it.
“Your worthless jealousy ruined everything. Do you think I wouldn’t know, so you tell lies?”
“Worthless jealousy…?”
Bacard glared at Angelus, who pretended not to know, and told her to come in. The study door opened and a man limped in.
Angelus’s eyes widened when she saw his face.
“…Hugo.”
His face was covered in bruises and wounds. Blood dripped through his torn clothes and he looked barely able to stand.
“Duke, why is Hugo like that—”
“Because of you.”
The Duke snorted in disbelief.
“You did this to my loyal subordinate.”
Suddenly the Duke slapped Hugo across the cheek.
“Ugh!”
A painful groan escaped and blood trickled from between Hugo’s clenched lips. Angelus began to tremble all over.
“Look carefully. Hugo took the beating for you. If you hadn’t ordered anything, he wouldn’t have been hit like this.”
“I—I didn’t tell him to set a fire. I only said to scare them a little.”
“Yes, that’s what you said. And my loyal man made a mess of it?”
“Th—that’s…”
“What matters is that whatever you told him to do, your order ruined the performance I had painstakingly prepared before it even began.”
This was not the usual indifferent, cold Duke Bacard. Her lips went pale and trembled as she thought. I must beg until I die. Angelus’s instincts screamed.
“I truly didn’t know. I really didn’t know anything like that would happen.”
Angelus, who had been standing by the door, quickly dropped to her knees and bowed deeply. She crawled along the floor toward Duke Bacard.
“I was wrong. Please forgive me. From now on I will never do anything except what you order.”
With a pleading expression, Angelus looked up at him.
“Please, Father…”
A chill anger flared in Duke Bacard’s eyes.
“Shut up. How many times have I told you not to call me that?”
As the Duke stepped closer, a peculiar fishy smell emanating from him pricked her nose.
“You are not Bacard but Corta. Don’t forget it. Remember why I took you out of that filth.”
Angelus’s face instantly drained of color.
“I know. You always said you needed my face.”
“You knew that… or rather, because you knew it, did you act this way?”
“No, Duke. It was my mistake. I will never ask Hugo to do such a thing again.”
Bacard snorted as if finding it laughable.
“Even if you wanted to, you won’t be able to. This incident will have made Hugo realize his mistake properly.”
The Duke turned and looked at him; Hugo forced himself to straighten his wounded leg and bent deeply at the waist.
“Angelus Corta. The only person you should concern yourself with is the Emperor. Give him more tea and keep him in a long, sweet trance.”
“Yes, Duke.”
Angelus pressed her forehead to Bacard’s shoe in a gesture of absolute loyalty. He pressed his other foot down gently on Angelus’s lustrous platinum hair that fanned across the floor like a spiderweb and spoke.
“If you ever want to go back, say so at any time. I’ll send you back to the filth where your mother is right away.”
Angelus squeezed her eyes shut and her chin trembled with fear. The one who had pulled her up from the lowest depths and made her a saint demanded unconditional obedience.
This is your last warning.
His foot, crushing her hair, said it plainly.
“Do your duty, Corta.”
“I will remember, Duke.”
After Angelus left the study, Hugo — who had stood motionless like a statue in a corner — spoke.
“Duke, we have a report from the east that the Valbusa has returned.”
He handed a tightly rolled paper to Duke Bacard.
“So the Valbusa is finally here. Those eastern fellows must be in a frenzy.”
“Shall I send word?”
“Not yet. The Valbusa is a tough one. The pampered easterners can’t handle him. When they’re threadbare, they’ll contact us first. The money?”
“We handed over everything they requested.”
Bacard chuckled, scraping his throat with a nasty laugh.
“I’m looking forward to when they contact us.”
“I suppose everyone was very busy while I was away.”
Jeden Valbusa, the great merchant representing the eastern region, spoke in a slow, sardonic tone, though the muscles of the scarred face that repressed anger twitched constantly. The steward who had run the guild while he was gone bowed his head.
“I’m sorry.”
“You needn’t apologize. You acted taking advantage of my absence, but contract changes must be made by the person involved.”
At that moment, a maid’s voice announced that the nobles had arrived.
“They must have been eagerly awaiting my arrival. Those gentlemen who made every excuse not to come, now show up.”
Valbusa tossed a fresh contract onto the desk and headed to the guest chamber where the nobles waited. The Valbusa guild — the trading house — handled the management and distribution of grain grown in the lands of the eastern nobles. Among its duties were managing the quantities and setting prices.
“It’s been a while!”
Valbusa deliberately raised his voice and flung the guest room door open with a flourish. Several nobles half rose but sat back down at a glance from another. Seeing their stern faces as if trying to assert dominance almost made him laugh.
“Have you planted a spy in my guild? How did you know I had arrived?”
“A spy? Who would be ignorant enough not to know the Valbusa himself has come?”
“Oh, am I that famous?”
Valbusa put on a playful air and laughed loudly. As the nobles said, no one in the east did not know him. He gave generously to anyone in need of money, but after the agreed time passed he turned into a devil, the moneylender Valbusa — that was another of his names.
Valbusa’s laugh stopped abruptly and he asked,
“Anyway… what brings you all here? It can’t be that you simply wanted to see my handsome face.”
As if waiting for his question, each man took something from his pocket and placed it on the table.
“What is all this?”
“These are the documents for the lands we mortgaged. We’re paying back the money — give us the land deeds at once.”
“Ah…”
Valbusa stroked his tussled, unkempt beard and slowly surveyed the nobles. One side of his face was covered in burn scars and he carried countless wounds. When he smiled it looked grotesque; when expressionless, it was terrifying.
They all boasted they would repay the money, but seeing Valbusa’s impassive face they swallowed dryly.
“That’s not a small sum. Seems like you all won a little at the gambling house.”
What the nobles placed on the table were land deeds Valbusa had taken each time they lost money at his gambling house. The land remained his until the loans were repaid, yet somehow he returned the profits from the grain to the nobles. Still, the debts grew rather than shrank.
“How insolent. You merchants. Do you think grain is the only way we can make money?”
Valbusa grinned slyly.
“If you’re paying so much at once, you must have a very lucrative income — care to share? We could all prosper together.”
One noble, offended by Valbusa’s teasing, jumped to his feet.
“Valbusa, bring back the land deeds at once. You’ve been holding things above your station.”
Other nobles, who had only been watching nervously, joined in.
“You upstart with no lineage — you think you’re an eastern noble just because you’ve handled some money?”
At the nobles’ rude behavior, the steward beside Valbusa bristled to answer, but Valbusa motioned for him to be quiet.
“Bring me the land deeds of all the noblemen present here.”
Then, looking at the riled nobles, he said,
“Technically I should collect the accrued interest as well… but considering how much’s piled up, I’ll take only the principal.”
