Chapter 22
A brief, hellish silence fell.
I had expected the atmosphere to turn sour. After all, I had just openly declared that I wanted to pit them against each other—it was only natural they’d be offended. In the worst case, both could refuse.
It wasn’t impossible to proceed without them, but the difficulty would increase considerably.
If things went really badly and both Richard and Rudolf turned into enemies, my life would be like a candle in the wind.
So ideally, at least one of them would agree. If both agreed, even better.
“I’d like to hear exactly what this ‘job’ is first.”
Rudolf was the one who spoke.
I started to answer, then paused, glancing around the room. That was all it took for Rudolf to smile gently, as if reading my thoughts.
“I’ve already cast a soundproofing spell. You don’t have to worry.”
Not “I’ll cast one for you,” but “I already have.” Just like Richard, Rudolf was the sort who never neglected his precautions, even if the method was different. These two were strangely similar in some ways.
Still, if Rudolf’s magic was in place, I could speak freely. I nodded, then finally voiced my objective.
“I want to bring down House Azenbach.”
Right after saying that—and before I moved on to the next part—I checked their expressions in that short pause. Not only Richard, but Rudolf also looked rather surprised.
“I’m not talking about completely erasing them. I just want the current duke’s family dead, have part of the duchy’s core territory confiscated, along with certain rights and other assets of the house.
Those confiscated assets will become the crown’s property, of course. And in such cases, the crown usually rewards those who contributed to the success, so the two of you can discuss among yourselves and split whatever you want. I’m not interested in the duchy’s wealth.”
I stopped here to catch my breath.
Putting aside the question of success, it was an offer tempting enough to make one think. The conflict between the imperial family and House Azenbach had deep historical roots.
Back in the final stage of Esperusa’s unification war, the King of the Northeast, Azenbach, had surrendered to the empire in exchange for autonomy over his own lands.
Both sides had been satisfied with this pragmatic deal, which avoided war.
But as time passed and the empire stabilized, a subtle tension began to grow between the imperial family and Azenbach.
The imperial court saw the autonomous Azenbach territory as a thorn in the side of a unified empire, while House Azenbach chafed under the crown’s demands for noble loyalty.
In the original story, the fall of House Azenbach was nothing more than a tragic backdrop for the male lead. But in reality, it was the result of a messy tangle of politics and history.
Rudolf and Richard might be rivals, but they both ultimately sought the throne.
For men like them, my suggestion—to destroy a house that threatened imperial power and even pocket part of its wealth—would be irresistibly appealing.
So appealing, in fact, that they might suspect I had ulterior motives. But my claim of having no interest in the duchy’s assets was completely true.
“All I want is for the duke’s illegitimate son, Tristan Azenbach, to become the next Duke of Azenbach.”
For Tristan to escape that hellish life and find happiness—that was my only goal.
After saying everything, I observed their reactions.
The first response was—
“Are you insane?”
Richard stared at me in disbelief.
“Are you sick? Did you swallow some poison at the birthday celebration? If that’s the case, I know a good doctor.”
…I had heard of drugs that made people stupid, but still. Richard was muttering as he scanned my complexion.
I couldn’t tell whether to be offended at being treated like an idiot or grateful that he seemed genuinely concerned.
“I’ve never heard that the Duke of Azenbach has an illegitimate son.”
At least Rudolf seemed to be taking me seriously. When I turned to him, he spoke in a gentle tone.
“Not Anton, the second son, but an illegitimate child… It won’t be easy to make such a person duke. The nobles loyal to the house will strongly oppose it. So your plan is to weaken Azenbach and its supporters, to lessen the resistance to your choice of successor?”
“Exactly!”
Rudolf had grasped my intent perfectly. I nodded brightly.
Maybe he was the one I could actually reason with, more than Richard. His reaction had to mean he was leaning toward agreement, right?
“But Lucillia, toppling a ducal house is no small feat. Personally, I think the scale of the job is far too large for your goal.”
“…Pardon?”
I blinked.
My goal was to make Tristan duke. How could the scale of the plan be too big for that?
There was no other way to do it. Surely he wasn’t suggesting convincing the duke to acknowledge Tristan? That would never happen in a million years.
“If what you want is to become the Duchess of Azenbach, Lucillia, you don’t need to marry an illegitimate son. When I become emperor, I could arrange a match with Ludwig Azenbach. Or perhaps Anton? He’d be easier to control.”
My mouth fell open, but no sound came out.
Ha… So when something’s just too ridiculous, your mind just goes blank.
So Rudolf thought… my goal was to become duchess?
“What kind of bullshit is that?”
Richard’s tone was sharp enough to make me turn toward him—and I almost screamed.
He had picked up the butter knife in front of him and was pointing it at Rudolf. A faint red aura of sword energy shimmered along its tip.
“Ludwig is twenty. Ten years older than Lucillia. You’re seriously suggesting marrying her to that old man? Have you lost your mind?”
While I appreciated Richard’s stance on marriage, there was a bigger issue—
“Brother, I’m twelve this year.”
“So what! Are you saying you want to marry Ludwig?!”
“What an awful thing to say!”
I shrieked. I’d rather sell my soul to the devil than marry some domestic abuser five years my senior.
I turned to glare at Rudolf—no, practically shouted at him.
“You think I’m orchestrating all this just so I can get married?! Are you actually stupid?!”
Rudolf looked genuinely flustered.
“Pffft!”
Richard burst into laughter. Maybe calling him stupid had been too much… but seriously, what he said was way too absurd. I was just defending myself.
“But Lucillia,” Rudolf said, still looking baffled.
“Everyone acts in their own self-interest. Yet you say you have no interest in the duchy’s wealth. You met the duke for the first time at the celebration—there’s no way you have a personal grudge…”
He trailed off.
“That day, you asked the duke where his youngest son was.”
I stiffened.
This was the first time we’d spoken since that day. Rudolf still didn’t know why I had asked such a bizarre question.
“You knew about the duke’s illegitimate child?”
“Yeah, tell us about that kid!”
Richard swung the butter knife away from Rudolf and pointed it at me instead. I flinched, and he sheepishly set it down.
“I’ve never heard of the duke having an illegitimate son. Is it true? How old? Is it a boy?”
“He’s a boy. His name’s Tristan, and he’s fifteen.”
I answered Richard’s rapid-fire questions one by one, then added my prepared explanation.
“He works as a servant in the duchy… and he’s abused. On the night of the celebration, I saw Ludwig hitting him.”
Both of their expressions changed at my words.
Richard looked openly incredulous, while Rudolf smiled in a way that reminded me of a benevolent mother—which was clearly fake.
I had expected Richard to understand when I explained it like this, but thinking about it, it did sound ridiculous to say I wanted to destroy an entire ducal house for one boy.
I needed a more targeted approach. So I decided to persuade them one at a time.
“Brother,” I said, reaching out to place my hand over Richard’s where it rested on the table. He flinched.
The motion reminded me of the first time I had touched his hand.
Yes… That day, Richard had killed a man right in front of me. How could I forget the vivid image of the head rolling to my feet?
If I hadn’t calmed him that day, how many of my servants would have survived? I recalled soothing him back then and tried to smile just the same way now.
“I want to save Tristan… the way you saved me.”
His red eyes wavered violently.
“What?”
“I saw him being beaten with my own eyes. I also heard from a reliable source that Ludwig hits him regularly. And everyone else in the duchy just looks the other way.”
I met his gaze and said firmly,
“We can’t just leave him like that.”
Richard frowned.
“So what if we do? He’s nothing to you.”
He wasn’t “nothing.” Tristan was the protagonist of a story I loved. Even if his circumstances had changed from what I remembered, my affection and desire to root for him hadn’t.
Of course, I couldn’t tell Richard that. And I didn’t want to.
“You’re the same, aren’t you?”
In fact, I was already smiling when he said that.
“When you first met me in the forest, you thought I was a maid from another palace, right? That’s someone who had nothing to do with you. So why did you come all the way to Opal Palace to find me?”
Richard couldn’t answer.
And I realized something again—
Just as Tristan was the hero in the original story, Richard was the villain. But just as Tristan was similar yet different from the original, so was Richard.
“You just couldn’t leave me there, could you? You came to save me.”
Sure, it had been an extremely self-centered rescue, and it had completely shattered my plan to live according to the original plot.
But the sentiment—that anger on my behalf, that desire to help me—had left a deep impression on me.
“I want to save him, just like you saved me.”
