Chapter 28.
Seeds of Suspicion
When Saliphe visited the Marquis of Bitern’s office, he was met with the marquis’s furious shouting. The marquis roared at length, then, as if his anger still hadn’t subsided, he paused to catch his breath before yelling again.
“Marquis.”
“So this is why you’ve been coming in and out of my estate—!”
“Marquis!”
Only when Saliphe called him sharply did light return to the Marquis of Bitern’s eyes. Until then, he had been muttering to himself like a madman.
Saliphe knew the marquis treasured his daughter, but he hadn’t expected him to be this emotionally invested, and that puzzled him.
So this is family.
It was a sense of familial value Saliphe had never experienced. The marquis was showing it to him now. That was why Saliphe said something he had originally intended not to say.
“Do you know that Darten Ert has been coming and going from your estate?”
“What did you say?”
The Marquis of Bitern’s gaze changed. The man who had been ranting nonsense moments ago now radiated a sharpness that reminded Saliphe why he was known as the Butcher of the Borderlands.
“The Empire’s Third Prince has taken an interest in your daughter.”
“I would like to hear the details, Your Highness.”
“It’s exactly what it sounds like. For some reason, Darten Ert has been approaching your daughter. To block that approach, someone of even higher rank is needed.”
“And that would be you?”
“Who else?”
As Saliphe shrugged, the marquis stared at him intently, as though weighing whether his words were truth or falsehood. Saliphe spoke again.
“Don’t regret it after you lose what’s precious, Marquis.”
“I never thought I’d hear such words from you, Your Highness.”
“I’ve lost something precious before—and regretted it.”
Saliphe’s words sounded bitter. The marquis tried to organize his thoughts, but there were still many things he couldn’t understand.
Even if the Third Prince were indeed targeting Jessica, the marquis knew better than anyone that Saliphe Ert was not a man who moved easily. He had fought alongside him on the battlefield.
A man who never acted without profit—that was Saliphe, as the marquis knew him.
“Your Highness, even so, this is a matter of my family. It’s not something you need to concern yourself with.”
“Why not?”
“Isn’t it obvious? The House of Bitern has nothing.”
“Have you no interest in what’s been passed down since the first marquis?”
At Saliphe’s words, the Marquis of Bitern froze. When he finally turned his head, Saliphe understood. The marquis hadn’t been ignorant—he had known all along and chosen not to act.
“You truly lack greed.”
“Excessive greed brings disaster.”
“And a lack of greed invites contempt.”
“As long as no one notices.”
“I noticed. What will you do now?”
“Your Highness.”
Plenaton belonged to the Ert imperial family. Even knowing of its existence, the Marquis of Bitern had never mined it to the end for that reason.
Even as his wife lay dying, he had not touched it. His belief—that once one chose the easy path, one could never return to the righteous one—had compelled him to keep Plenaton a secret to the very end.
“Is that why you wish to become engaged to Jessica?”
“No.”
“Are you mocking me right now?”
At Saliphe’s teasing tone, the marquis clenched his teeth in anger.
To give my daughter to a scoundrel like that—she’s worth a hundred times more.
Jessica, gentle and pure, was utterly unsuited to such a man. The marquis thought again that this was absolutely unacceptable. He opened his mouth with a baffled expression, despite having no qualms about calling an imperial prince a “bastard” in his thoughts.
“If you want Plenaton, why not just ask me directly? Why seek a marriage contract with Jessica?”
“I like Jessica very much.”
“…What?”
Saliphe’s expression, as he lied without the slightest hesitation, was utterly calm. No one could read his true intentions, and the marquis was thrown into confusion.
Did those words really come from Saliphe Ert?
If he were to tell the other nobles who had guarded the borderlands with them, none would believe it. To the marquis, Saliphe’s words sounded that absurd.
“So just accept it.”
“Your Highness!”
“If you don’t, what will you do?”
Faced with Saliphe’s sharp words, the marquis found himself speechless. There was simply no solution. Once Saliphe made up his mind, he would give no one an opening.
Worse still, if Saliphe publicly announced it in high society, Jessica would have nowhere to go. Every eligible young lord would withdraw, and even Prince Darten would be unable to approach her easily.
“You won’t like either choice, but aren’t I the better one?”
Realizing that the other option was Darten Ert, the marquis nodded slowly. It was true.
When he had scoured the empire for a white spinel, the rumors he uncovered about Darten were so filthy he could hardly bring himself to speak of them.
A man who had devoted himself faithfully to loving only one woman all his life, the Marquis of Bitern could neither understand nor wish to understand such a type of human being.
That was how bad Darten’s reputation and reality were.
When he heard that such a man was approaching Jessica, flames had flared in the marquis’s eyes. He feared that Jessica might be reduced to nothing more than another plaything, like Darten’s other women.
How dare he touch my daughter.
“So accept it, Marquis.”
“Is this an order?”
“If that’s how you heard it, then so be it.”
Facing Saliphe, who did not deny it even at the end, the marquis spoke firmly.
“If Jessica sheds even a single tear, I will kill you, Your Highness.”
“You speak quite casually of regicide.”
Saliphe spoke lightly, as if he didn’t see the marquis’s blazing gaze. Unsatisfied, the marquis spoke again.
“I am not joking, Your Highness.”
“Did everything I’ve said until now sound like a joke?”
“……”
The marquis could not answer.
Saliphe casually tossed the seal of House Bitern on the desk into the air and caught it again, but his eyes, fixed on the seal, were serious.
“If you give her to me, I’ll protect House Bitern.”
“Jessica is not an object.”
“She’s too precious to be kept like a mere flower in the inner chambers.”
“Jessica won’t want this.”
“You don’t know your daughter very well, Marquis.”
Saliphe’s blue eyes turned toward him. The playful air vanished in an instant. It felt as though a sharp wind brushed past Saliphe’s face, his black hair seeming to scatter.
The window was closed, yet the marquis felt it all the same. Saliphe’s chilling aura was so sharp it seemed it could cut anyone who touched it.
Just as the marquis stared in shock, that killing intent vanished instantly.
There was a knock at the door.
“Ahem. Who is it?”
“It’s me, Father.”
Jessica surveyed her room with Vivace. For a noble lady’s chamber, it was rather plain, and nothing seemed out of place.
The contract Vivace had left on her desk was still there, exactly as it had been. The contract sent by the First Prince bore no identifying marks.
“Someone’s been in here,” Vivace said.
“It seems so.”
Vivace took the contract to the window. In the sunlight, fingerprints were clearly visible—judging by the size, those of an adult man. Jessica checked as well.
She opened a drawer where she kept important items. Nothing inside had been disturbed, but the thin thread she had wedged between the drawer and the frame was gone. It had been a faint gold thread she’d placed as a marker.
“This drawer was opened too.”
“Did you lose anything important?”
“No, that’s impossible.”
She wouldn’t keep truly important things in a drawer. What mattered most to her was the letter Isanna had sent—and she had burned it immediately after reading it. Everything else was trivial.
Ah, there is one more thing.
The documents about Plenaton she had taken from the Bitern family library. They were hidden in her bed—above it, in the canopy supported by four pillars.
Tucked into the gap in the wood, the documents were safe. She had hidden them in plain sight.
They probably assumed I’d hide them in the pillow or mattress.
It was a plan designed to catch people off guard. Standing on the bed, Jessica retrieved the documents and casually dusted off her skirt. Vivace stared at her in surprise as she asked,
“Who can read these documents?”
“They’re enchanted so that only a designated person can see the contents.”
“A designated person? Did you take my blood?”
“Of course not. Just a strand of hair.”
No wonder. That day, he’d come unusually close. Thinking back to their conversation inside the carriage—uncharacteristically forward for Saliphe—Jessica beckoned Vivace with her fan. He hurried to her side.
“Give it to me. I’ll read it.”
“Here you are.”
