An Unwanted Guest
Brilliant sunlight streamed through the vast stained-glass windows, spilling across the corridor in vivid shafts of color.
Herman strode along the long carpeted hall, acknowledging the bows and greetings of nobles and servants who passed him, his steps steady and silent toward his destination.
“You have arrived, Your Grace.”
“His Majesty?”
“He is within. However…”
The chamberlain who had come to greet him wore a faintly awkward expression. Herman’s gaze drifted naturally toward the door as he spoke.
“There is a prior guest, I see.”
“…The Duke of Kratz is currently in private audience.”
“Private audience?”
A scoff slipped unbidden from Herman’s lips.
He had meant to deliver his business quickly and leave. Instead, he was about to meet the one man he least wished to see.
“If you would wait a moment in the adjoining reception room, I shall inform you the instant the audience concludes.”
Knowing full well how disastrously poor the relations between the two houses were, the chamberlain offered the alternative with careful tact.
Yet Herman’s own temper was hardly one to accept such consideration.
“I shall wait here.”
“But—”
“Simply inform His Majesty that I have arrived.”
He’ll take the hint and come out on his own. Herman’s mouth twisted into a crooked smile as he stepped back.
Click—
The firmly shut door opened again before he had waited even a few minutes.
“Duke.”
A middle-aged man who had finished his business crossed the threshold of the study.
The Duke of Kratz—current head of the Aristocratic Faction and the man who stood in direct opposition to Bertis—was the person Herman despised most in the entire kingdom.
For starters.
“Forgive me for keeping you waiting.”
The sheer brazenness of that face as he approached was already enough to sour Herman’s mood.
“Had I known there was a prior guest, I would have come later.”
At those words the Duke of Kratz’s mouth twitched. Herman’s habitual refusal to use honorifics never failed to grate on him.
Arrogant whelp.
That a green boy barely out of childhood should swagger about simply because their titles were equal—it was enough to make his eyes ache with irritation.
“It was only a trifling matter in any case. Still, I had not expected you to seek an audience with His Majesty so early.”
“Is that so.”
Herman lowered his gaze a fraction. Beneath long lashes, his blue eyes flashed sharply for an instant.
“I rather thought it more natural that I should be the one meeting His Majesty at this hour.”
A trifling matter, yet he requests a private audience first thing in the morning? Herman barely restrained the urge to snort aloud.
An obvious lie.
After studying the duke in silence, Herman moved first. Yet the moment they brushed past each other, the Duke of Kratz’s lips parted.
“I hear you have been having quite the ordeal of late over the counterfeit banknotes.”
Herman, about to enter the study, turned back. The duke stood at ease with his hands clasped behind him and continued.
“Among Kratz’s vassals are those who operate major trading companies. They too, I am told, have been suffering headaches over the counterfeits of late.”
“What exactly are you trying to say?”
Herman disliked this roundabout manner of speaking; his brows drew together.
“I mean to say that this affair is a problem for us all.”
“You are demanding joint investigative authority.”
“Not a demand—a rightful request.”
The Duke of Kratz’s mouth curved into a loose smile.
“It is merely advice, offered because I know how dangerous it is to monopolize the right of investigation.”
Herman’s eyes narrowed to thin slits.
Having delivered his final remark, the Duke of Kratz turned away without a shred of lingering attachment.
Herman, who had not taken his gaze from him until the last, clicked his tongue.
“Plotting something troublesome, are we.”
As if he were anything more than a nuisance.
“So you’ve come.”
King Robert rubbed a weary face. Facing that slippery serpent first thing in the morning had drained him dry.
“I was pleased there was no morning council for once—yet heaven must have known I would end up this exhausted.”
“He spoke of joint investigation, then.”
Herman, who was of an age with the king, dropped formal speech only in private. Robert looked thoroughly startled by the certainty in his tone.
“How did you know?”
“I just ran into him.”
“Truly—enemies meet not on a narrow bridge but right here.”
“He even gave me a warning.”
Robert let out a short, incredulous laugh. The man had been just as shameless earlier while pressing his own claims.
“He lays his demands out with remarkable transparency. Was there anything else?”
“Anything else? Nothing of note. Simply hand over the investigative authority—that was the whole of it. Said he was sorry for making me wait over such a trifling matter.”
“Trifling, my foot!”
Had it truly been so minor, the duke would have left a message with the chamberlain rather than keep the king occupied for a full hour.
“Do you have any idea how exhausting it was listening to that nonsense for an entire hour? And I could not simply throw out a duke, either.”
“If he is bold enough to say it to both our faces, he will strain every nerve to seize that authority.”
“Of course. If they wish to settle the matter among themselves, holding the investigative rights themselves would be the most convenient course.”
Herman nodded in agreement instead of answering.
“Do not worry. I have no intention of reversing the decision.”
The moment investigative authority passed to the Duke of Kratz, they would not merely turn a blind eye to the counterfeits—they would seize complete control of the market.
“But what brings you here so early?”
“The matter of the will.”
“Ah. Yes, that does need settling. The vassals’ opposition has been fierce.”
“Opposition of that sort—”
Herman’s expression hardened for a fleeting instant.
“—will fall silent the moment she becomes Duchess.”
“Well, once she is Duchess…”
Wait.
“What—what did you just say? Duchess?”
“Why?”
Herman asked back as though wondering what the problem was. Yet the straight set of his shoulders radiated the quiet confidence of a man who had at last secured the other party’s consent.
Robert composed his startled thoughts and confirmed once more.
“The young lady—no, the lady—has decided? To remarry you?”
Herman cleared his throat and nodded. The corners of his mouth twitched with a subtle blend of pride and joy.
“She has made a wise choice.”
Considering what lay ahead, it was the right one.
“Then you came today for that as well.”
“More or less.”
In truth, they could remarry as things stood. Mutual consent alone was enough to make them husband and wife with a single document.
Yet this remarriage required a more certain witness.
“I shall have the papers prepared at once. Will you hold another ceremony?”
“I would like to, but—”
Knowing Riena’s temperament, she would likely refuse, saying they had already held one and that was enough.
She was not one who enjoyed fuss.
“I suppose I shall have to discuss it with her.”
“Speak of it at your leisure. Should you decide to hold a ceremony, I shall place the Grand Banquet Hall at your disposal.”
At that, Herman looked faintly surprised.
The Grand Banquet Hall was ordinarily reserved for royal weddings.
To marry there was a dream not only for the young ladies of society but for nearly every noblewoman.
Yet for one person alone—
“Then I shall be refused on the spot.”
Riena, who disliked anything burdensome, would refuse without hesitation.
Robert silently agreed, lips parting.
“Her tastes truly are difficult to pin down.”
A touch eccentric, yet quick-witted.
She enjoyed things pleasing to the eye, yet was never one for outright extravagance. If one had to compare, her temperament was rather similar to Herman’s own.
“Then let us decide the extras later and settle what lies immediately before us.”
The will needed sorting at once, and the counterfeit matter required another look as well.
“…By the by.”
Robert glanced at him sideways.
“Are you all right?”
Herman raised one brow. Robert swallowed and spoke carefully.
“The funeral only just ended, did it not.”
“…”
“You yourself have hardly had time to gather your heart.”
“Well.”
Herman began slowly.
“Is there anything left to gather?”
The late duke had suffered from a chronic illness. And that illness had worsened sharply after his divorce from Riena. He had simply never shown it.
By the time the stubborn man finally broke after enduring alone, little time remained to him.
Moreover, there had been nothing that could be called familial affection. Without Riena, each had simply done his own work; neither had taken particular interest in the other.
Like any other noble house, the late duke and Herman had been less father and son than “head of house and heir.”
“The inheritance matter must be finished quickly. That old serpent’s spawn is opening his mouth without knowing a thing.”
“…”
“Before they start scheming again and make everything troublesome.”
It needed to be dealt with.