~CHAPTER 99~
Count Ascard, Master of the Mage Tower, and Duke Wentworth had begun a serious conversation.
Maybe if I get closer, I could hear something.
Since it was quiet outside the building, I moved near the open window and heard faint voices.
As I tried to move to a closer window to listen better, a sudden sting spread along the inside of my wrist.
When I lifted my sleeve, the magic stone bracelet was vibrating intensely and glowing.
What’s going on? Did someone use magic?
I quickly hid the bracelet back under my sleeve and looked toward the terrace.
But a strange sense of déjà vu washed over me.
They were still talking, their lips moving, but unlike before, no sound reached my ears.
The silence was too complete to feel natural.
I looked down at my wrist again.
It must be related to this.
Most likely, Count Ascard had cast a soundproof spell so that his conversation with Duke Wentworth wouldn’t be overheard.
Since I couldn’t hear them anymore, there was no point in staying.
Besides, if I lingered, I might run into Count Ascard again, which made me uneasy.
“Sir Derek, let’s head back.”
“A wise choice, my lady.”
Derek quickly replied and escorted me out of the banquet hall.
As I descended the stairs, I couldn’t help but glance toward the terrace.
The moment I did, I regretted it.
Count Ascard was looking straight down at me.
It didn’t feel like a good sign.
Pretending not to notice, I hurried down the stairs, crossed the lawn, and climbed into the waiting carriage.
***
Count Ascard, Master of the Mage Tower, watched from the second-floor terrace connected to the banquet hall as Amelia disappeared in her carriage.
Duke Wentworth looked at him anxiously.
“Why did you come all the way here?”
Count Ascard answered calmly, meeting his uneasy gaze.
“It’s not as though I’m unwelcome. I am, after all, an advisor to the Academy. I may not have come recently, but I used to attend the graduation ceremonies often enough—to see if there were any talented candidates for the Tower.”
“Still, your attention seems to be elsewhere.”
“When I first brought her in, you said she was illegitimate. Yet for a bastard, you’ve raised your daughter rather well.”
“…”
Duke Wentworth said nothing.
To him, Amelia Wentworth was still an ignorant and emotional child.
He had used her looks to get her engaged to Prince Vincent, hoping she’d seduce him—but that plan hadn’t borne any fruit.
And yet, first the Emperor, and now the Master of the Mage Tower, both praised Amelia as a well-raised daughter.
Are they only judging her by her appearance?
Duke Wentworth shook his head.
“She might be pretty like her mother, but beauty alone is useless if she can’t win over the Crown Prince.”
“Hmm. Then we can assume two things.”
“What do you mean?”
“Either Prince Vincent has poor eyesight, or Amelia Wentworth shares his intentions.”
“Impossible. She’s not clever enough for that.”
Duke Wentworth had once wondered if Amelia might be deceiving him.
But after two visits from Aiden and their recent conversation, she seemed calmer but fundamentally the same.
“Is that so.”
Count Ascard tilted his head slightly, and Duke Wentworth turned to face him.
When Duke Phillips Wentworth spoke next, Count Ascard’s expression changed entirely.
The playful smile vanished, replaced by a sharp seriousness.
“I didn’t expect you to bring that up first, Phillips.”
The change in address was clear.
This was no longer a discussion between a count and a duke—it was between the Master of the Mage Tower and his subordinate, Phillips.
Seeing the cold gleam in Ascard’s gray eyes, Duke Wentworth instinctively looked away.
“What do you mean? I did my best.”
“Ha. You’re funny, Phillips. When has ‘doing our best’ ever mattered to us? What matters are results. Instead of strengthening your political standing, you’ve weakened it. You’re now bound hand and foot. Why should I continue doing business with you?”
“It’s only three years. In three years, I can—”
“Three years? You really think you can last that long?”
Count Layton Ascard’s mocking tone silenced Duke Wentworth.
Unable to respond, he only opened and closed his mouth soundlessly.
Ascard continued.
“The slave market has been wiped out, which means it’ll be difficult to obtain materials for the Tower. If things stay this way for three years, should I entrust the distribution of my artifacts to someone else instead?”
“That’s—!”
The Wentworth Duchy had always been wealthy, but Phillips’ generation had accumulated unprecedented riches.
That was because the Wentworth Trading Company held exclusive rights to distribute the Tower’s magical artifacts.
In return, the Mage Tower used the duke’s influence to sway imperial politics and, until recently, planned to use the slave market to supply experimental subjects more easily.
Now that everything had fallen apart, Ascard’s disappointment was understandable.
But beyond money and politics, Duke Wentworth had another reason he couldn’t cut ties with the Mage Tower.
“Please… don’t stop sending me the medicine.”
Duke Wentworth had been lame since childhood, unable to use one leg properly.
It was a deep source of shame for a man so proud.
He’d lived an isolated youth until his father introduced him to the Master of the Mage Tower.
The medicine Ascard provided allowed him to walk without pain for a day or two.
With that, he regained his confidence, rebuilt his social standing, and climbed back into politics.
It had been decades since then.
He could no longer imagine himself limping again.
“If you want the medicine to keep coming, then work for it, Duke Wentworth. Find something useful you can do.”
“But how, in this situation…?”
“What’s the biggest obstacle right now?”
“Prince Vincent, of course. That brat has been interfering with everything I try to do.”
“The Crown Prince, hm.”
Count Ascard tapped a finger under his chin, thinking for a moment before speaking.
“Was he always like that?”
“Well…”
Duke Wentworth trailed off, frowning.
Had the Crown Prince always been this way?
No.
He wasn’t obedient, but he used to be pliable—immature enough to be manipulated.
That was why the duke had placed Amelia at his side, to win him over.
But now the prince was shrewd, unyielding, and working tirelessly to block his every move.
“He does seem… different somehow.”
“When did that start?”
Duke Wentworth thought carefully.
He wasn’t always near the Crown Prince, but his spies had reported something.
“I’m not sure exactly when, but my informant was dismissed right after the Crown Prince fell from his horse and fainted. He suddenly fired her without any reason.”
“Did he find out she was your spy?”
“I don’t think so. It wasn’t just her. Every servant of questionable background was replaced. He might have suspected something, but I doubt he confirmed it.”
Even as he said it, Duke Wentworth couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that something was deeply off.
Thank you very much 🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺