CHAPTER 59……………………………………………………………..
. The Emperor’s Strategist
“Did you say strategist?”
Repeating the duke’s words, Davi widened his eyes before bursting into laughter.
“That’s far too grand a title for a lowly commoner like me.”
“Then what does that make the priests who were driven out by that same commoner? At the very least, calling you a strategist might make them feel a little less humiliated.”
“Considering how long they exploited people in the name of a god that doesn’t even exist, His Majesty showed them mercy by expelling them instead of executing them.”
By the time they were driven out, the corruption of the priesthood had reached its peak. They had turned donations into fixed “tithes,” loaned out that money at usurious rates, and spent it on luxury goods.
In truth, the downfall of the priesthood was a disaster half of their own making.
“But it takes great power to bring down those who hold great power—and you accomplished that.”
“It was all His Majesty’s doing. What power could I possibly have? You’ll make the young ladies misunderstand.”
Davi smiled faintly and met Anze’s gaze.
As their eyes met, Anze, who had been quietly observing the flow of energy above Davi’s head, lowered her gaze.
Three metal elements in his fortune chart…
Though Davi seemed talkative and frivolous on the surface, in truth he was calm and calculating.
His stubbornness meant that once he latched onto something, he would see it through to the bitter end—and with so much metal energy, there was even a hint of killing intent within him.
People born with such a constitution were said to have to strive all their lives toward good thoughts and virtuous deeds—but who could say…
Anze shook her head.
There was something sharply intense in Davi’s gaze, a subtle ferocity that stood in contrast to his polished, amiable demeanor—and it matched the way he stood his ground against Duke Syde without flinching.
Anze composed her expression as she sipped her tea.
The murderous intent she’d felt when their eyes met—no, that had not been her imagination. Even in all her time with Duke Syde, who had faced countless enemies on the battlefield, she had never felt anything quite so strong.
I’ll have to be careful.
“Does the dessert suit your taste?”
“Yes, it’s quite good.”
But despite her words, Anze set down her fork beside the half-eaten cake.
The tartness of the grapefruit was too sharp for her palate, and the smooth milk cream clashed with the fruit and sponge rather than harmonizing. Since locking eyes with Davi, her tension had sapped her appetite entirely.
The slippery texture lingering in her mouth made her want to stop eating altogether.
“I’m glad you like it,” Davi said smoothly. “I’ll have the chef send some to your residence.”
But once again, Duke Syde cut in.
“That won’t be necessary.”
“It’s not for Your Grace, so there’s no need to concern yourself.”
“I can’t allow that. Anze happens to be staying in my home. I don’t know if you’re aware, but I can’t stand having unsavory things wandering about my house.”
“Are you insulting a gift from His Majesty?”
“Refusing to eat bad cake is now an insult? Or is it that, since the priests have been driven out, it’s my turn next?”
“Your Grace is the one making wild leaps in logic.”
Anze pressed her temple. Listening to the two men bicker—if that’s what this was—was giving her a headache.
“Shall we take a walk?”
Hildegard’s sudden suggestion was a welcome escape.
Anze glanced at the two men, still glaring daggers at each other, and nodded silently.
* * *
A cool breeze greeted them as they stepped out of the conservatory. The two women walked quietly through the garden until they stopped before a fountain.
At its center stood a statue of a woman holding a child in her arms.
Something about it reminded Anze of Hildegard, and she tilted her head slightly.
“Doesn’t it look a bit like me?”
“That was exactly my thought when I saw it,” Anze replied.
A wry smile touched Hildegard’s lips.
“They say it was modeled after my grandmother. Although the two of them didn’t get along and separated early, my grandfather still hasn’t forgotten her. He always says he’s never seen a woman more beautiful than she was.”
“Then you must take after your grandmother,” Anze said, feigning ignorance.
The statue was angelic in its beauty. The two children in her arms must have been the woman’s sons—their father and an uncle Anze had never met.
“Perhaps. My grandfather said the resemblance was so strong he recognized me as his granddaughter at first sight. But the family was in turmoil at the time, so I couldn’t be formally adopted into the marquisate right away. Instead, I went to the academy with the support of the merchant guild.”
Anze remained silent, listening. Her expression suggested she was deep in thought. Hildegard, noticing, continued.
“Everything after that is as the world knows. After graduating from the academy, I began working for the guild. My grandfather was getting on in years and said the work was becoming too much for him. Thanks to that, I came into natural contact with the marquis’s retainers—and with their help, I adapted to high society quite easily.”
Other than her change in status, everything was exactly as Anze remembered from the original story.
“You must have attended the academy around the same time as Lady Mariana.”
“Coincidentally, yes. But we never grew close. Mariana was the daughter of a grand duke, while I was just a commoner sponsored by a trading house. The tuition was already steep enough, and for a mere commoner to attend the academy—well, I spent most of my time keeping my head down to avoid scorn.”
“What a pity. You two could have been good friends.”
Hildegard laughed at Anze’s polite platitude.
“To be honest, I doubt that. Even if we’d been of similar rank and seen each other often, Mariana and I would have clashed—like oil and water. Just like now. Age doesn’t change one’s nature, after all. Actually, I think you and I could be friends instead.”
“I…”
Before Anze could respond, Hildegard continued.
“So, how long do you plan on staying at the duke’s estate?”
The sudden question caught Anze off guard, but only for a moment. She had suspected Hildegard had something to discuss when she suggested the walk.
“Well, as long as His Grace requires my assistance…”
“Ah, so you mean the duke won’t let you go?”
“More that the salary of the duke’s assistant is quite… generous.”
Hildegard blinked, then burst out laughing.
“Money! I can’t believe I didn’t think of that. I really must be turning into a proper noblewoman—forgetting something that important. I suppose even with all this talk of changing times, there still aren’t many ways for a lady of noble birth to earn that kind of money. I must have misunderstood you.”
“Misunderstood?”
Hildegard shrugged lightly.
“You must have heard the rumors about you and Duke Syde, haven’t you?”
“…”
So that was it. Was she trying to threaten her? Or coax her?
Even if Gray had thrown a fit about her “marriage prospects,” what truly mattered to Anze wasn’t some imaginary scandal involving “Miss Beaufort,” but the reputation of the Black Wolf himself.
“To be honest, I find that rumor quite insulting,” Hildegard went on. “So, here’s what I propose—how about I give you enough money to live comfortably for the rest of your life, and you quit your job?”
“Money…”
Anze hesitated for a moment, and Hildegard’s eyes lit up with hope.
But then, wearing an expression of regret, Anze shook her head.
Enough money to live on for life! She would probably kick herself under the covers tonight for turning it down, but she couldn’t accept.
“I think there’s been a misunderstanding. The duke’s compensation isn’t just about money.”
“You just said it was for the money.”
Hildegard frowned slightly.
“There are… minor conditions attached to that money, you could say.”
Like the repair of her estate, for instance.
Glancing at the conservatory that perfectly replicated the one at the duke’s mansion, Anze sighed inwardly.
Anyone wealthy enough to offer a lifetime’s worth of money and build a greenhouse identical to the duke’s surely could have repaired her house without issue.
But since the marquis’s mansion was located far from Primrose Hill, that already disqualified it from her conditions.
“You might as well have settled on Primrose Hill,” Anze remarked suddenly.
Hildegard blinked, puzzled.
Her tone was too sincere to be brushed off as an excuse. She really meant it—and Hildegard couldn’t quite follow the strange turn the conversation had taken.
“My grandfather doesn’t get along with the nobles there, you see.”
“Why not? Everyone seems terrified of the marquis.”
“Because they look down on money! Even though they can’t live a single day without it.”
A sharp, commanding voice rang out suddenly.
Startled, both women turned around—to see Marquis Crow approaching with his hands clasped behind his back.
