Chapter 75
[Captain of the Rubid, Viktor Dumfelt, meets with Bestina’s officer Vasily Lindberg]
Viktor checked the extra edition that had landed in his hand.
Vasily Lindberg, who had stayed a day at the Dumfelt estate before returning to Bestina, spoke cheerfully.
“Fast, isn’t it?”
“Right.”
“Anyway, think a little more seriously about this, Viktor.”
Facing him squarely, Vasily continued.
“The fact that I came myself means the royal family of Bestina desperately needs you. Remember what the spies you caught said? That Bestina values soldiers and engineers.”
“I’ve heard that more than once.”
“With you alone, Bestina could become the center of the world, and we could obtain peace without spilling a drop of blood. A path where everyone is happy.”
“Yeah. I’ve heard that too.”
Viktor smiled. Vasily realized further persuasion wouldn’t sway his decision.
With a light wave of his hand, Vasily left the Dumfelt estate. Watching the departing carriage, Parlin Redford asked Viktor,
“You’re letting him go just like that?”
Evan Light poked Parlin in the ribs.
“Sir Vasily is of Bestina’s royal blood. He’s the current king’s nephew. Touch him and it’s war.”
“What?”
At the word royalty, Parlin asked with wide eyes,
“You mean a royal didn’t stop by the royal palace first, but came straight to the Dumfelt estate?”
“Exactly. That’s what it means.”
Evan glanced sideways at Viktor.
He had served under Viktor for years, yet never truly knew what went on in his superior’s head.
One thing was certain: Viktor hated war. But precisely because of that, he might be tempted to side with Bestina. If that happened, even his subordinates would have to firmly decide where they stood. Opportunistic Evan, as well as blunt and tactless Parlin, both knew they couldn’t afford to go against Viktor’s choice.
Most navy men entered the academy by age eight, boarded ships by thirteen. Once trained from eight years old, disobedience toward superiors was nearly impossible to shake.
The previous day, Viktor had finally enjoyed a rare moment of leisure. He had been top of his class every year at the academy, and like other top students, spent half a year at Bestina’s naval academy for exchange. He met Vasily there as a roommate, and their personalities meshed, so they grew close during that half year.
Even so, sending a royal like Vasily to him was no small matter. Regardless of Viktor’s intentions, this meeting would raise eyebrows everywhere. And it was likely to push more wealthy elites to move toward Bestina.
While his men quietly wondered what Viktor was thinking, someone arrived at the estate gates: Scarlett Crimson.
Blight greeted her kindly, as always.
“You’ve come, my lady.”
“I’m clear-headed today.”
“I see.”
Smiling, Blight added,
“The young master is in his office.”
Scarlett nodded and climbed the stairs. Inside, the office was empty. From the attached bathroom came the sound of running water.
As she cautiously flipped through some papers, the bathroom door opened. She flinched as Viktor appeared, wrapped in a robe.
“You’re looking for something, aren’t you?”
Scarlett froze like a guilty thief. She thought she should have pretended to have lost her memories—but it was too late. After all, before their divorce, she had never gone near Viktor’s documents.
Viktor walked over and pulled her hand off the papers.
“If you want to know something, ask me.”
“…I didn’t think you’d tell me the truth.”
“That doesn’t mean you can rummage through my files.”
“If there was something I wasn’t supposed to see, you’d have locked the office.”
“They’re not classified, but that doesn’t mean you can just read them.”
At his low voice, Scarlett realized she was doing something reckless.
She asked,
“You met with a Bestina officer?”
“Yes.”
“What are you going to do?”
Caught off guard by her bluntness, Viktor didn’t answer right away.
Scarlett pressed,
“Hm? Why did you meet him?”
Instead, Viktor asked back,
“Why the rush? Who did you meet?”
“…I don’t know if I should say.”
“Then what did you hear?”
“That my parents’ carriage accident… might not have been an accident.”
“…”
“Don’t you know anything?”
Viktor was silent.
“Viktor,” Scarlett urged.
“The king might have ordered it.”
“…”
Her voice trembled.
“There really are spies inside the royal family?”
“Probably.”
“…I see.”
Scarlett nodded slowly.
Viktor thought: normally, he would have dealt harshly with anyone who touched his papers. He never locked his office because no one dared touch them. If anyone did, they had to be a spy.
Now he had to carefully consider what to do with her.
“So,” he asked, “who did you have that conversation with?”
“…”
“You don’t trust me?”
“No.”
Her answer was firm.
Once, she had believed anything Viktor said. But that trust had long since cracked. Viktor never believed in anything irrational—and Scarlett always fell into that category.
All his life, Viktor punished mistakes harshly. That was the Dumfelt way, the naval way. And it worked.
He had treated Scarlett no differently, leaving his sense of betrayal untouched. That approach had never backfired—until Scarlett Crimson.
Viktor fell into thought.
Unable to bear the silence, Scarlett said,
“Say something.”
“Then let’s answer one question each.”
“…”
“That’s generous for you. Normally, I’d make you talk whether you wanted to or not.”
He pressed his finger against her cheek, soft as peach flesh.
Scarlett was suddenly reminded of Andrei. After being held by the navy, he often rubbed his jaw and teeth as if they still ached.
Her shoulders trembled, but Viktor didn’t stop. He pressed her lips open with a finger, gently prying her mouth like soothing a child. After toying with her a moment, he withdrew, stroking her lips as though praising her.
“I’m thinking. Going to Bestina isn’t such a bad idea.”
“…What?”
“I’ve done my duty. I’ve been loyal to the crown, loyal to the people.”
He leaned in close.
“If I go to Bestina, they say Salantie will finally know peace.”
“…”
“Perhaps that’s what people want most.”
He wanted to take her back. He longed for the day Scarlett Dumfelt would return to his side.
But was that possible? Was anything possible for him?
Viktor couldn’t take his hand off her face. Gazing at her, he said,
“The spies told me Bestina’s military already knows about you.”
“…Me?”
“The late Earl Crimson and his wife were the greatest engineers on the continent. Of course warmongers would target their heir first.”
“…”
“The Bestina army will try to abduct you before anything else.”
Scarlett stared at him, wide-eyed, as if the thought had never crossed her mind.
When Viktor learned the royal police had forced her to take a drug to extract memories, he had already suspected Bestina’s involvement.
They could have exploited her weaknesses without such an expensive, risky drug. Yet the royal police invested heavily in extracting her memories. Making her lose just the right portion of memory couldn’t have been done without countless trials.
She had probably been a target for a long time.
After a pause, Viktor asked quietly,
“Will you come with me to Bestina?”
Scarlett faltered at his question.
Then she replied,
“No. I won’t go. And neither should you.”
Her eyes were clear and resolute.
Viktor countered,
“Even if the royal family killed your parents? Salantie scorns engineers. If you went to Bestina of your own will, you’d receive every support you wanted before they even thought of abducting you.”
Scarlett answered,
“Viktor, when the Crimson family was granted the earldom, they swore their descendants with skills would never leave Salantie. You know that.”
It was an old law.
Seeing him wait silently, she went on,
“Back then, class divisions were even stricter. Yet they gave the Crimson family a title, on the condition we stay. Why? Because our technology was that important to the nation. Is that contempt for engineers? No.”
Viktor kept his eyes locked on hers.
“The problem is the current king. Not Salantie itself. I inherited the Crimson family’s craft, and I swore to remain in Salantie no matter what. I won’t leave.”
At that, Viktor murmured,
“So you have your family’s honor.”
A strange hollowness filled him, realizing Scarlett had carried all along what he himself had always yearned for.
Never once had he thought the Dumfelt name honorable. That was the hill of a banished princess.
But the Crimson line—whom he had thought lesser—had honor. Honor passed down from heir to heir, a diamond-hard legacy.
