~CHAPTER 94~
Alfred tilted his monocle and lowered his gaze slightly.
“It was just a formal greeting.”
“You’re not… thinking of anything else, are you?”
At the Duke’s suspicious question, Alfred frowned.
“Something else? What do you mean, Your Grace?”
“I was about to ask you the same thing. When the decision about my punishment was made, what were you doing? You could’ve at least given me a heads-up, couldn’t you?”
“Your Grace, I only found out quite late myself. And considering what you did… the punishment is actually rather lenient.”
“What? Three years? Do you realize that in that time, every connection I’ve built could disappear? How can someone like you say that?”
The Duke of Wentworth flared up, but Alfred responded in a mildly hurt tone.
“Your Grace, why didn’t you at least consult me when the matter of the slave auction was brought up?”
At Alfred’s pointed remark, the Duke of Wentworth flinched and went silent.
They had worked together on the matter of the Moulton Marquisate, but the Duke had deliberately kept the slave auction business from Alfred.
The reason was simple — he didn’t want to share the profits.
In truth, the Duke of Wentworth had betrayed Alfred Layton, the Viscount, first.
“Hmm, I was going to tell you once things were more certain.”
It was a poor excuse by any measure, but at least the Duke’s interrogation stopped there.
Alfred didn’t press further and spoke again to calm him.
“In any case, please keep your spirits up. Even if you can’t enter the palace, Your Grace’s influence won’t fade easily. Three years will pass in no time. I’ll visit you often.”
“Yes, thank you for saying so. I can’t forgive traitors, but you — you’re someone I trust more than anyone.”
“I’m honored, Your Grace. I’ll make sure to live up to that trust.”
The Duke of Wentworth gave Alfred Layton a light pat on the shoulder and continued walking down the hall.
Once he stepped outside the palace, he wouldn’t be allowed to return for three years.
Watching the Duke’s back, Alfred Layton slowly let the faint smile slip from his face.
He was a perceptive man.
One sharp enough to be called the Empire’s master of information — the kind who always knew which side to stand on, and whose favor to seek to survive.
Up until now, that side had been the Duke of Wentworth.
But lately, the balance had started to tilt.
Click—
Toward Crown Prince Vincent, who was now stepping out of the audience chamber.
“Your Highness.”
Alfred approached Vincent with a polite smile. The prince looked at him curiously.
“You’re still here?”
“Yes. I was curious about the rest of the verdicts, so I decided to wait. Has anything been finalized?”
“Hmm, that’s still confidential.”
“You have my discretion, Your Highness.”
Vincent didn’t quite look convinced, but he answered anyway. It wasn’t a secret that would last long, after all.
“The Marquis of Moulton was found to have almost no remaining assets. Since he’s been accused of running the slave auction for years, he’ll lose his title and lands. That will be the end of it.”
In truth, the Marquis’s assets had already been seized by the treasury.
The contract papers passed to the Duke of Wentworth had been fake — the real ones were in Crown Prince Vincent’s hands.
“A wise decision, Your Highness.”
Of course, Alfred had no idea about that.
He had helped establish the Twist Trading Company and set up the approach to the Marchioness, but the Duke had never told him that his copy of the contract was forged.
Alfred simply assumed, just like with the slave auction, that the Duke had wanted to keep all the profits for himself.
And so, he felt rather betrayed.
Being banned from the palace for three years meant the Duke’s control over the noble faction would inevitably weaken.
Alfred Layton was already planning to find his own path — and change sides if necessary.
“As for the others, the punishment varies depending on the degree of involvement. Those who directly harmed people will be executed.”
“I’ve heard what happened there was horrific. That sounds like a fair judgment.”
Still, even though Alfred had been aligned with the Duke, a little small talk wouldn’t make him the prince’s ally overnight.
He needed to offer something of value.
“Your Highness, have you heard? The Master of the Mage Tower has recently begun appearing in public again.”
“Really? Where has he been seen?”
In fact, the incident with the Mage Tower Master on the way back from the slave auction was known only to a few, including the Emperor himself.
If that news spread, things would get complicated fast.
They would have to explain that the Tower’s mana reserves had been depleted, that the Master’s magic was dangerously unstable, and that the landslide had indeed been his doing — all of which would trigger political strife.
So the matter had been kept secret.
“Surprisingly, he appeared quite normally. As Count of Ascard, he attended a wedding of one of his vassal’s daughters.”
“That is… unexpected.”
Hearing Alfred Layton’s words, Crown Prince Vincent nodded.
Coincidentally, the Mage Tower Master’s name was Layton Ascard.
Although they shared a surname, it was said to be pure coincidence — there was no connection between them.
“Rumor has it he plans to stay in the capital for a while, as Count Ascard rather than as the Tower Master.”
“We’ll have to keep an eye on him.”
Since the charges against the Mage Tower Master hadn’t been proven yet, there was no reason to stop him from acting as Count Ascard.
Still, he was undeniably a person of interest.
And for such a time as this, that didn’t feel like a good sign.
Vincent looked at Alfred Layton and said,
“Would it be possible for me to rely on you for further updates, Viscount Layton?”
It was exactly what Alfred had been hoping to hear. His expression brightened immediately.
“Of course, Your Highness. If I hear anything noteworthy, you’ll be the first to know.”
Vincent nodded with a faint smile.
He wasn’t unaware of Alfred’s opportunistic nature — but instead of finding it bothersome, he actually found it useful.
Alfred was the kind of man Vincent needed.
If Alfred was starting to lean toward his side, it meant the tide was turning.
“Then, I’ll be counting on you.”
“Yes, Your Highness. Please take care.”
Vincent gave a brief nod and turned away.
Behind him, Alfred Layton remained bowed until the Crown Prince was out of sight.
***
Once life became comfortable again, boredom followed quickly.
I wriggled out from under the blanket and set my feet on the floor — just as Vivian burst through the door.
“My Lady, where are you going?”
“Huh? Oh, um… I wasn’t really going out—”
“If you need anything, you should call me!”
“No, I was just going to the study. Maybe grab a book or something.”
Vivian narrowed her eyes at me.
Why was she suddenly so scary?
After a sigh, she fetched a thick sweater and draped it over my shoulders.
“It’s cold in the hallways.”
“Right, thanks.”
I pulled the sweater tighter and stepped into the corridor, heading toward the Crown Prince’s study.
He had told me I could read whatever I wanted there, so it had become my favorite spot.
Since Vincent rarely used the room himself, it was practically my personal library.
When I opened the door, the place was empty and slightly chilly.
I pressed the button to light the fireplace, then stood before the bookshelves.
“What should I read today…”
Come to think of it, where was Sylvia staying these days?
I should probably visit her sometime.
As I was thinking that and scanning the shelves, the back door opened.
When I turned around, Crown Prince Vincent was walking in.
