85. The Fist Is Closer Than the Law (1)
The man who suddenly interrupted was small and frail, his complexion pale as though he had never seen sunlight.
At the unexpected intrusion, the knight glared sharply.
“Who are you? How did you get in here without permission?”
“I, I’m…”
“This is Count Gort.”
Before the stammering man could answer, Cayenne smoothly cut in.
Startled, the man looked up at Cayenne, who responded with a playful wink.
‘Ah! So this man is…’
He was the husband of Countess Gort.
I looked him over from head to toe. His clothes were neat enough, but his weak impression gave off a sickly air. Unlike his extroverted wife, Count Gort rarely showed his face at official social gatherings.
Then, with a desperate expression, Count Gort pleaded with the knight.
“If, if it’s alright, may I see my wife? It won’t take long. Please, just once.”
His voice trembled, as though wrung from the depths of his chest. He seemed to care nothing for dignity or noble pride, begging earnestly as he clung to the knight.
‘Somehow, with this man…’
Someone who came so desperately to see the Countess might give testimony in her favor.
Maybe—just maybe—he could turn around the situation that had cornered her so badly until now.
But that brief hope was crushed when the knight firmly shook his head again.
“That won’t be poss—”
“Oh dear, slipped my foot.”
“……!”
Cayenne casually pushed the knight who stood like a statue. With a movement as elegant as a dancer’s, he gave only a light shove to the chest, yet the armored knight lost his balance and stumbled back.
I had no idea how such strength came from that slender frame, but…
‘Nice, Cayenne.’
In that instant, I hurriedly opened the door.
“Of course he may.”
“Th-thank you.”
Count Gort bowed deeply to me with a simple, earnest look.
“Hey! Stop right there!”
Seizing the chance, Count Gort rushed into the parlor. The moment he entered, Cayenne stepped protectively behind him, blocking the doorway with his body.
“You said it would only be once, didn’t you? The young lady has given her consent—surely you won’t defy your master’s command?”
“The Serteia knights must always prioritize the lord and his representatives’ orders! Allowing the young lady inside was already against the rules. Any further is unacceptable!”
“Honestly, you’re far too rigid, Sir Knight.”
“Step aside!”
The knight tried to shove Cayenne away with his shoulder, but Cayenne held firm, unmoving.
While Cayenne blocked him, Count Gort carefully approached his wife.
The Countess was still asleep, her face weary. He fell to his knees before her, as if his strength had given out.
“My dear!”
At his tearful voice, Countess Gort blinked her eyes open.
“My dear…? How did you come here?”
“I came running as soon as I heard the news. But your condition—”
He grasped her pale hand, his face etched with worry. Anyone could see how pitiful she looked. Tears welled in his eyes.
“Are you… are you really alright?”
“I’m fine.”
“Thank heavens. Truly, thank heavens…”
He pulled her into a tight embrace, his shoulders trembling as he failed to hold back his sobs.
“My dear.”
The Countess, staring blankly at him, soon had tears gathering at the corners of her own eyes.
“I’m sorry. Because of me, even you…”
“It’s alright. You don’t have to say anything right now.”
Repeating only that it was alright, Count Gort comforted his wife.
The two of them clung to each other for a long time.
It was a reunion so moving that even onlookers felt their chests tighten.
Even I, watching from beyond the parlor door, felt my nose sting.
“What’s this mess?”
“……!”
Just then, a voice doused the warm air like cold water.
Startled, I turned around—and felt Icart’s frosty gaze pierce through me.
His golden eyes blazed as he looked down into the parlor. Though he must have still been exhausted and injured from the accident, he stood tall and sharp as a blade.
“Young Lord!”
The knight immediately dropped to one knee in respect.
Cayenne, who had been standing in the knight’s way, also raised his hands in surrender and stepped back.
“I believe I made it clear—no visits to the suspect.”
“M-my apologies, Young Lord. Lady Roselia requested it, and so…”
Flinching, the knight bowed his head low.
Even with that excuse, Icart’s oppressive aura did not ease in the slightest.
As the atmosphere grew heavier, Cayenne once again spoke up with brazen ease.
“But surely you can’t stop a husband from worrying for his wife.”
“You again?”
“Nice to see you so often, Young Lord.”
Icart frowned deeply, clearly irritated.
“…You presume too much for a mere servant.”
“What can I say? I’m the young lady’s loyal retainer.”
Cayenne winked at me.
His playful attitude only seemed to sour Icart’s mood further.
“If you want to remain near my sister, you’d better keep that tongue in check.”
“Oh, of course. I’ll remember that.”
When Icart gave his cold warning, Cayenne quickly ducked behind me.
‘Seriously?’
Using me as a shield now?
With his huge frame barely hidden by mine, he looked especially shameless today.
If it weren’t for the help he gave regarding the Countess, I wouldn’t let him off so easily.
“Tch.”
Just then, a pitiful cry came from the parlor.
“As I told you, you shouldn’t have concerned yourself with this.”
Icart’s glare at Cayenne instantly shifted toward the sound.
“What’s a business deal compared to all this? You are already part of our family.”
“…?”
Something felt wrong.
The touching reunion had suddenly shifted—Count Gort was now reproaching his wife.
“How foolish… How could you harm my elder brother over something as trivial as money? All I ever needed was you…”
The moment his anguished cry echoed, my strength drained away.
“…Ah.”
We’re doomed.
After the weeping subsided.
Icart led Count Gort into another reception room.
‘Good heavens.’
I rubbed my throbbing temples and followed after him.
Even as we moved, Count Gort kept glancing back toward the room where his wife remained, unable to hide his worry.
Once we reached the empty chamber, Icart motioned for him to sit across from him.
An uncomfortable silence filled the space, until Icart broke it.
“Count Gort, didn’t I tell you to wait quietly at the entrance? What possessed you to wander through the house without permission?”
“I’m sorry, Young Lord. Knowing my wife was inside, I simply couldn’t wait any longer…”
Count Gort lowered his head, looking utterly dejected.
From what I heard, he had rushed to the ducal residence the moment he received word about his wife.
While Icart stepped away briefly to summon a servant, Count Gort heard commotion from the parlor and immediately ran there.
‘It’s clear this man will throw himself in headfirst if it’s for his wife.’
Hmm.
I studied him with a troubled look.
“You’ve seen your wife, just as you wished. That should satisfy you. If you have no further business, you may leave.”
At Icart’s dismissal, Count Gort’s head snapped up in alarm.
“N-no, Young Lord. In fact, I have something to say regarding this matter.”
“What is it?”
“It’s about my wife.”
Carefully, he began to explain.
“It seems my wife had been terribly worried about the dealings between the Vermont family and the Ducal house. She believed my elder brother was being deceived, and insisted she had to stop it somehow.”
“……”
“I was shocked to see her behaving so differently from usual, but I never imagined she would go this far.”
Finishing, he leapt up and bowed deeply.
“I truly apologize. My family will make restitution for this incident, no matter what it takes. So please, release my wife.”
“That is not possible.”
Icart cut off his desperate plea without hesitation.
“During the arrest, we searched the room and found this.”
He pulled out several receipts.
“This is…?”
“Receipts for the purchase of magical explosives. Unfortunately, they match the device used in this crime.”
At his words, Count Gort’s face turned deathly pale.
“Th-that can’t be—”
“I understand your desire to protect your wife. But with evidence this clear, denial is meaningless.”
Icart’s cold gaze swept over him.
“No matter if she is a Countess, an attempted murder against nobility cannot be taken lightly.”
His chilling voice drove in the final nail.
“Your wife will pay the price for this crime.”






Gah. This is when the garbling really gets frustrating. I can’t tell what’s weird or off and what’s due to the translation