Episode 18
Tears finally burst from Lady Isaac’s eyes. Fearing her sobs would escape, she covered her mouth.
“But no matter how much effort I put in, I can’t return it if the master remains asleep.”
Grace gently grasped her frail arm and said in a commanding tone:
“Help me wake the Grand Duchess. And going forward, cooperate in reclaiming Richmond.”
Lady Isaac felt as if someone had poured ice over her head. A cold shiver started at her crown and surged through her body down to her toes.
It was the very thing she had longed to hear. How many times had she wanted to shake the dying Grand Duchess awake? And how many times had she wanted to drive out the Marquess and Marchioness who acted as if they owned the place?
Though this was their first meeting, Lady Isaac couldn’t reject the hand Grace offered. She wiped her tears on her skirt and cautiously held Grace’s hand. Then, like a knight pledging allegiance, she said:
“If I can wake the Grand Duchess, if I can return Richmond to her… I would give my life.”
The corners of Grace’s lips twitched faintly.
Arwen Isaac.
Matriarch of the Count Isaac family—the most trusted vassal family of the former Duke, and a woman whose word could rally the wives of many knightly houses that served the House of Richmond.
She was the one Grace needed to win over even before approaching Lady Eliza.
Grace clasped Lady Isaac’s hand in return.
“I’ll be counting on you, Lady Isaac.”
The first step in Richmond had been taken.
While Grace was securing Lady Isaac’s loyalty, a commotion was erupting at the main gate of the estate.
“You may not enter without authorization from the Inner Court.”
At the guard’s stern words, an elderly man with a head full of white hair exploded in anger.
“I am the head of the Rodeo family, loyal to Richmond for generations! I’ve come to pay respects to His Grace upon his return, and you speak to me of permissions?! Open this gate immediately!”
“I am only doing my duty. Without authorization, I cannot open the gate. Please return.”
“You insolent brats!! Have you not even informed His Grace of our visit?!”
As the old man raged, a voice carried on the wind, dripping with sarcasm.
“Knights, really. Even at their age, they lack grace and remain rough around the edges.”
“They always let emotion get the better of them and raise their voices. It must be true what they say—blood-stained hands eat away at one’s reason.”
The expressions of the knightly family heads who had come to greet Walter instantly hardened.
“What did you just say?!”
As Crimson Isaac and Sirius Isaac, who had accompanied their father, ground their teeth in protest, the front gate opened and the Marquess faction appeared.
Their attire alone set them apart from the ragged knights.
The Marchioness frowned at Crimson and Sirius’s disheveled appearances.
“You intended to enter the estate in that state?”
She shook her head slightly and pointed her fan at them.
“Do you not realize that your bandit-like appearance tarnishes Richmond’s honor?”
At that, Count Isaac, father of Crimson and Sirius, shouted back.
“Marchioness, that is too much! My sons have risked their lives to protect His Grace for the past ten years. These scars are symbols of their loyalty. How dare you utter the word ‘bandit’?!”
The Marquess stroked his beard and interjected.
“Scars may be medals on the battlefield, but this is not a battlefield.”
“…”
“Stop causing a scene. Do you know how other families sneered at Richmond during the former Duke’s time? Saying the knights had seized the Inner Court. Knights have their place, and we high nobles have our own duties.”
The gathered knights clenched their fists tighter.
“Beyond this gate, there is no place for knights. Don’t whine about opening the gate—wait where you are needed.”
“Marquess Rinko!!”
The white-haired old man bellowed, but the Marquess didn’t bat an eye. He even pointed a finger at the old man’s face and growled, emphasizing each syllable:
“That’s the ‘loyalty’ you should be showing.”
Laughter erupted among the nobles behind the Marquess. With a smug smile, he turned away.
“I’ll report to His Grace myself. You all may leave.”
Tears of frustration welled up in the old man’s eyes.
“Father, let’s return for now. We’ll wait for contact,” said Crimson and Sirius.
Count Isaac nodded slightly and looked back at the vassals who had come with him, speaking with a tired voice.
“We’ll head back. It seems we won’t be able to see His Grace at the moment.”
“We failed to protect him ten years ago… what if we fail again?” someone lamented.
Sirius replied.
“Don’t worry.”
“…?”
“His Grace is strong. He will summon us soon.”
In fact, Walter had already ordered the 500 knights to remain on standby.
In the end, the group turned back from the closed gate.
The pointed roofs of the fortress loomed like thorns, stabbing at their backs.
Meanwhile, having driven out the knights, Marquess Rinko strode confidently toward the Duke’s office.
He had a plan.
The best outcome would have been for Walter to die before returning to Richmond. But victors always prepare a backup.
The Marquess believed he had total control over Richmond.
First, he had military power.
The nobles who had sided with him commanded more troops than those still loyal to the Duke. The internal knights and castle guards were under Count Lewen’s command, making it hard for Walter’s 500 knights to act.
Second, all civil servants in Richmond answered to him.
Finances, law, even minor administration—there was no area untouched by his influence.
Finally, the Inner Court was also under the Marchioness’s control.
The Inner Court, like the Imperial Palace’s Ministry of the Interior, manages maids and servants, and mediates between the Duke and vassal families.
Years ago, Lady Eliza had naturally controlled the Inner Court. But now, Marchioness Rinko held that power. Except for Lady Isaac, all of Eliza’s loyal maids had been expelled.
Had Eliza tried to assert her influence, the Marquess would have had her assassinated. With the imperial family’s protection gone, it wouldn’t have been hard. In a twisted way, her loss of will to live had worked in her favor.
Now, the king of Richmond was none other than himself, Marquess Rinko. He held power over the military, the administration, and the court.
His face, once twisted at the Duke’s return, slowly bloomed into a smile.
Walter Richmond. You must be terribly flustered right now.
Surely the first place Walter would go was his office. But that office was now empty—he had ordered it cleared out.
What kind of face would Walter make?
He must be floundering amid the mountain of documents, unsure where to begin or how to proceed.
The Marquess would sweep in like a savior, pretending to help while crushing his pride. And once pride is broken, a man becomes weak. Then he could decide—to let Walter live, or end him—whichever was more profitable.
Just the thought thrilled him, and a smile curled his lips as he reached for the door handle.
He wouldn’t even knock. In times of urgency, courtesy is forgotten. Surely the Duke would welcome him with open arms?
But his expectations were shattered the moment the door opened—no, more than shattered, they were annihilated!
“What on earth are you doing?!!”
“No, stop!!”
Came the screams of the clerks.
The office looked like a wild boar had rampaged through it—utter chaos. And at the center, Joseph, who was rifling through papers, beamed at the dumbstruck Marquess faction.
“Oh! You’re finally here!”
Oh! You’re finally hereaaa?!
“What is the meaning of this!!!”
The Marquess roared at Joseph. But Joseph didn’t flinch.
Compared to a troll’s scream, an old man’s yelling was adorable.
“You dare, a lowly knight, not only enter this sacred office but also touch official documents?!!”
Sure, but this old guy was way more annoying than a troll.
“This sacred office was empty, you see. And I find the Duke’s orders holier than the room, so I couldn’t just wait around.”
“Then you should have come to find me!!!”
“Oh! That’s a great idea!”
Joseph clapped his hands as if enlightened. The Marquess turned even redder with rage. Joseph waved a few papers at him.
“I’ll be sure to do that next time.”
“What documents are you even looking for?!”
“What would a lowly knight know? You can figure out what’s missing later.”
“You…!! Joseph Rexton!!”
“Oh, and His Grace says he’ll be resting for a while due to travel fatigue. He’s placing his full trust in you, Marquess, so I hope you live up to his expectations. Well then.”
Joseph offered a sloppy half-bow and sauntered toward the door.
The Marquess trembled with fury at Joseph’s smug back and barked at the guards:
“Get those documents from him—NOW!!”
