~Chapter 60~
A heavy silence hung over the study, with only Daniel and Dominic remaining. The loud hoots of an owl—“Hoo, hoo”—failed to pierce the quiet. After the wind rattled the window and passed through, Dominic finally managed to speak.
“I’m sorry, my lord.”
It was an indisputable mistake, one that could not even be excused. He had referred to “Matilda” without realizing she was the Baron’s wife.
Damn it.
A surge of self-loathing rose in Dominic as he bit the inside of his lip. Daniel, too, found the situation infuriating.
“It’s certainly something to apologize for.”
The letter had been nothing more than a simple message sending Matilda’s regards to her relatives: “Matilda is doing well. I will ask her to write from time to time.” Yet Dominic had twisted it into some misunderstanding and, on top of that, had apprehended an innocent maid. A pathetically foolish act.
“How is the maid?”
Dominic remained silent, yet Daniel could already guess. She had been confined in a dark underground cell for days; there was no way she was unharmed.
“Is she alive?”
“Yes. But… she may end up limping.”
Daniel’s eyebrows lifted slightly. Dominic had actually harmed a woman? Seeing the crooked expression, Dominic shook his head.
“No, that’s not it. She fell while we were moving. We treated her urgently, but there may be aftereffects.”
It had happened in an instant. While Dominic and his mercenary unit were escorting Matilda to the underground cell, the mercenary holding her lost grip as she struggled violently. Tumbling to the ground, she cried inconsolably, but even as she insisted “No, this isn’t fair,” something felt off. Bitter metallic taste filled Dominic’s mouth. Regardless of the reason, it was his responsibility that Matilda ended up in that state. He exhaled a heavy sigh, pressing his hand to his forehead.
“This is my fault. I will take full responsibility and see this through.”
“Don’t act cocky.”
Daniel’s face carried a sharp, cold edge, a sneer spreading across it.
“I was the one who told you to apprehend the maid, the one who ordered you to do whatever it took to uncover the mastermind. If responsibility must be taken, I will take it.”
The smile on his lips hardened with time, turning colder.
“Have you forgotten already? If you remain by my side, I would never allow you to say that. Did you forget so quickly?”
After losing his mother and everyone around him, Daniel had carried everything alone as a form of self-punishment. At thirteen, he didn’t know what atonement truly meant, yet it felt like he had to do it. Whenever left alone, he imagined death. If only the Mollys—the parasitic father-and-son duo—weren’t clinging to him, perhaps that imagination would have become reality. And now, after insisting to stay by his side, they had the audacity to defy him.
“Do you need me to say it again?”
“…No.”
At Daniel’s question, Dominic lowered his head.
“I know… that under no circumstances should I act on your behalf.”
How could he ever forget? The boy who had lost his mother, tormented by guilt, had screamed with a voice choked in blood:
“If you want to stay by my side, don’t do anything for me. Don’t try to survive instead of me. Do you know how terrible it feels to survive alone? Don’t you dare try to die for me instead. I hate it… I really hate it, damn it!”
That was probably why Daniel had thrown himself without hesitation at the flying spear aimed at Dominic three years ago. He’d rather die than see someone else fall because of him. Arrogant, mischievous, infuriating, but… miserably pitiable. To Dominic, Daniel was like the last bloodline of Laura, whom he had loved like a mother. More than a brother. So even if he hated it, he would gladly play the villain for Daniel. Yet, unwilling to test Daniel’s temper, he remained silent.
Daniel placed both hands on the desk, pressing his forehead against his clenched fists, and asked calmly:
“Your family?”
“My three younger siblings live outside the castle. My parents are deceased.”
Dominic assumed he withheld the truth for their safety. Threatening someone using family members was a common tactic of the Empress.
“I will manage the situation. But it’s best if the Duchess doesn’t learn of this.”
Daniel nodded, forehead still pressed down.
“She must remain unaware.”
The maid was highly trusted. If his beloved wife discovered that the cherished maid had been injured, she would spend days weeping and mourning.
“Bring her home at dawn. If she refuses to return to Meinhardt Castle, grant her anything she wants. If she wishes to settle somewhere outside the duchy… that would be even better.”
Perhaps sending her somewhere Frida couldn’t reach, never to meet again.
“However…”
Daniel’s eyes, fierce and predatory, flashed coldly above his clasped hands.
“Make this perfectly clear. If Frida finds out about this, it’s over that very day.”
Because the lady feared the dark, the wall lamps in Frida’s bedroom were the first to light up in the castle and the last to be extinguished. The last image she remembered before sleep was always the blurry ash-wood leaf pattern on the ceiling.
“Eleven, twelve, thirteen…”
Tonight, she counted the leaves not to fall asleep, but to stay awake. The problem was, her drooping eyelids refused to cooperate.
“…Fourteen. Ha… hm.”
Yawning continuously, she tried to resist sleep. She soaked in the lavender-scented bath, sipped the sharp, minty tea, and felt her body relax. But staying awake tonight was necessary.
“Rest. I’ll be there as soon as the conversation ends.”
Daniel was coming. She wanted to open her eyes the moment he arrived.
“Why are you like this? Frida. Open your eyes. Come on, open your eyes, damn it.”
Her eyelids grew heavier. The document handed over by Turner, the Viscount managing Weimar’s finances, bore only one name: Andin Franco. Duke Andrea of Weimar frowned as he questioned Turner.
“Who brought this letter?”
“A messenger from Duke Richard, it seems. Judging by appearance, one of the mercenaries from Milabo in his service.”
“Duke Richard?”
Duke Andrea folded the letter several times, hiding it in his sleeve. Andin Franco was responsible for overseeing maritime trade between Weimar and the Rungen Empire. The Duke of Andin had grown wealthy through Eastern trade, so trade with the Rungen Empire wasn’t noteworthy. The issue was that someone like Duke Richard had mentioned the existence of Andin Franco, known only to a select few in Weimar.
The messenger entered the room: a broad-shouldered, dark-skinned man with black hair and brown eyes. As Turner had said, he was from Milabo in the south of Laphas. A man whom Duke Richard trusted enough to send a letter from his side…
“So, you’re the famous ‘Cold-Hearted Dominic Molly,’ I take it.”
He smirked, brushing dust from his black hair.
“You live up to the reputation of a lord in Weimar, where all the Empire’s information converges. I would introduce myself further, but there’s no time. Please state your business.”
Dominic produced a scroll from his sleeve and handed it to Duke Andrea.
“My lord Richard’s demand is simple. The items listed in this document must be delivered within five… ah, now three days and a half.”
Exhausted, Dominic ran a hand over the stubble that had grown in a single day. Even at full speed on horseback, the journey would take at least three days.
“If you deliver these items to the Duchy of Utrecht within the given time, Andin Franco’s dealings between Rungen and Weimar will remain unknown to Schendel Castle,” he said.
“What…?”
Duke Andrea began to speak, but Dominic raised a hand politely to stop him.
“I won’t waste time. I know there’s a secret, unsanctioned deal between Your Highness, who gained wealth on royal lands, and the Marquis of Morenheitz in Rungen. Andin Franco is in charge of it.”
Daniel Richard… that bastard. How much does he know?
Duke Andrea muttered to himself as Dominic nodded repeatedly.
“Yes, I know it all. Andin Franco is close to the emperor of Rungen, practically family. Enough talk; please begin preparations. We must depart at first light tomorrow.”
Since he knew everything, there was no need for long explanations. Duke Andrea, a shrewd and rational man, quickly scanned the document: beds, furniture, carpets, tapestries, tableware… a large quantity, though nothing impossible to obtain.
“Why are all these needed in Utrecht so suddenly?”
He had always found it suspicious: asking for dozens of servants at once before, and now… what was this about?
“Even by tomorrow morning, preparing all this would require at least a week, even at full speed.”
Dominic removed his gloves, shaking his hands, frowning. His words dragged on in aggravatingly slow fashion despite the urgency.
“Decide. The courier from the Royal Office awaits my signal.”
He exhaled heavily, pointing northeast with a stiff arm.
“The person who secured wealth on royal land has been secretly colluding with the Rungen Empire, without the emperor’s knowledge.”
“Secret collusion?”
“If you oppose the collusion…”
Dominic’s exhausted brown eyes gleamed with a menacing light.
“How about treason?”
