Chapter 98
Chapter 98
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 98
Chapter Title: Handshake Power Struggle
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After nobles exchanged their hypocritical greetings, there was always one sacred ritual that followed: the handshake.
It was a very peaceful and mild act that showed they weren't carrying weapons and had no intent to attack, but in reality, it was like a starting pistol signaling the beginning of a battle of wills.
So, we plastered fake smiles on our faces, stared into each other's eyes, removed our gloves, grasped each other's hands, and shook them lightly.
And as expected, this senile old man started by pouring strength into his grip right from the outset, trying to assert dominance.
"......"
Whoa, his grip is ridiculously strong, as always.
By this world's standards, I'm on the weaker side, but admitting that would hurt my pride too much.
I mentally convinced myself that this old geezer was just freakishly strong and opened my mouth.
"It's good to see you're still in good health."
I suppressed the scream threatening to escape from the pain in my hand, pretended to be perfectly calm, and subtly suggested he ease up a bit.
"Haha! You, on the other hand, need to train more. What's the use of a man being this feeble?"
With the Former Duke of Devonshire's cheerful laugh, the pressure in his grip instantly released, leaving a red mark on my hand and a throbbing pain surging through it.
"I've been trying my best, but it's not easy. I envy and admire those with such robust physiques."
I flexed my hand repeatedly inside my glove and wrinkled my nose slightly as I graciously accepted the old man's teasing.
Anyone could see I'd lost.
Better to admit it cleanly and move on rather than make excuses and look ugly.
Besides, without mana, I'd never win this kind of battle no matter what.
Even if I exercised like a gym fanatic all day, I'd never beat a knight with mana—that was the law of this world.
"Heh heh heh~"
I wondered if crushing a mana-less weakling like soft tofu felt good, but the old man looked thrilled, his mouth curling up happily.
For someone over seventy, he had a childish side.
Or maybe he was just starting to lose his marbles.
"So, what brings the Duke of Cavendish to the pre-banquet? I never expected to see you here."
"My great-grandchild was worried, you see. There are so many degenerate youngsters these days—if they get influenced by weirdos like you, it'd be a disaster, wouldn't it?"
"Ho~ Your love for your grandchildren is something else. So the others here for the same reason?"
"They're our children, after all. We worry even more about them."
Sigh, right after the light greetings ended, the infuriating circumlocutions came pouring out.
On the surface, it was adults fretting over their kids and grandkids, but the real meaning was closer to 'We came because trash like you is bothering us.'
Just say it straight—everyone knows what you mean, but you drag it out and give me a headache.
"Still, teens are at that age where they experiment and make mistakes, right? Even I was like that. Those experiences build character, so no need to worry too much."
"Heh heh heh, you could see it that way."
So I fired back lightly with 'Let the kids be free.'
"By the way, Sir William, could we clarify how you address us? We're all Cavendish here, so 'Duke of Cavendish' gets confusing."
"Ah, what should I call you?"
"We all have titles, so use those."
"Hm~ Understood."
After my light jab, they went for establishing authority.
If they had titles to flaunt, it made sense, so I nodded agreeably.
The problem was, aside from knowing the central old man was a count, I had no idea what titles the two standing like decorations on either side held.
Normally, you should remember nobles with titles, but honestly, how do you keep track of them all?
Even excluding people with multiple titles, there were hundreds of barons and viscounts.
Sure, barons and viscounts held important positions, but who memorizes every mayor or county administrator in the country?
No, remembering all barons and viscounts is like memorizing every city council head or deputy mayor.
Only spies or intelligence agents could do that.
"So, what are the titles of the two beside you?"
"......"
I couldn't pretend to know what I didn't, so I asked innocently. The three awkwardly lifted their mouth corners while their eyelids twitched.
They probably never met anyone who didn't know the titles of direct Devonshire Duke family members—not some rural baron or viscount.
"I'm Viscount Torington."
"And I'm Baron Bolton."
Conveniently, the oldest was the count, the youngest the baron—easy to remember.
Maybe because it's a ducal family, but they really dote on their kids, scraping up every title to hand them out.
We just piled everything on the eldest brother.
I understood it was their parents' will not to allow even tiny succession disputes, but it was still enviable.
"Wow~ All nobles, how impressive. I feel embarrassed with just one knighthood."
"Well, ours are just inherited, no matter how grand. Isn't something you earn yourself more rewarding, even if humbler?"
I openly showed envy, and Baron Bolton puffed up a bit, boasting about his lofty title.
An easy, simple inheritance—he had reason to brag.
"True. When His Majesty handed me the sword himself, my heart pounded so hard I wanted to bury my bones in the Imperial Palace."
I got my knighthood straight from the Emperor—what do you have?
"...As servants of His Majesty, that's only proper."
"Ahem...!"
Baron Bolton seemed a bit offended and tried to downplay it, but it was so absurd I nearly burst out laughing.
These guys who slinked off proclaiming neutrality when His Majesty ascended? Talking about 'proper duty'?
Does this fool think our family got the 'meritorious house' title through street scams?
"As expected of a storied knightly house—your loyalty to His Majesty is so profound, it's hard to match."
"Ahem...!"
I laced my praise with sarcasm, and the count looked uncomfortable, shooting Baron Bolton a glance.
Maybe because they knew they fell out of favor with His Majesty due to the neutrality declaration, they felt the shame.
"......"
A brief silence wedged between us.
Realizing too late that pressing with titles wasn't working, their eyes darted quickly.
Wow, they catch on fast—for idiots.
"Where's your younger sister? I heard she came with you. I'd like to at least exchange greetings..."
I leisurely waited for their next topic, and out came Hayes from the count's lips—off somewhere flirting with her boyfriend in the banquet hall.
On the surface, just asking after her, but it felt like prodding at family ties.
'Why are you apart from your family?'—simple words perfect for implying discord.
"Who knows? She's so free-spirited, probably having fun somewhere."
I answered vaguely on purpose.
I needed to show some vulnerability to seem pitiful.
"At that age, they're more interested in friends than family."
"Exactly. It's natural, but she's been distant lately, and it feels lonely since we doted on her as a kid."
I never doted on her.
Even this winter, she called me 'hey' instead of 'bro'. What doting?
'Oppa' was barely won helping her snag a husband candidate.
"......"
Remembering Hayes's antics suddenly made me angry.
"Not much time left now—treat her well for the remaining days. Siblings fighting just burdens the parents."
"Haha..."
My expression stiffened from the rising irritation, and Baron Bolton slyly framed it like we had bad sibling relations.
I even found her a husband candidate—what more? Do childcare too?
Are you kidding?
Sudden bursts of anger toward Hayes welled up.
Is provoking brothers what little sisters do best?
"How's business these days?"
Trembling thinking of Hayes, the emboldened trio pressed with a new topic.
The Atelier came up faster than expected.
No vulnerabilities there, so I welcomed it.
"Going well."
"Even so, there must be some hardships."
Hardships...
Not really.
Wait, one thing.
Lately, after using more mannequins in ads to poke at the count, Caterina's been glaring at me venomously more often.
I knew why, but I ignored it since I couldn't treat staff like gravure models. Time for a talk soon.
Sigh... Why are my employees so prickly toward their boss?
Blame my hiring for personality over looks.
"Well... No job without headaches. We push through the struggles."
"Heh heh~ Confidence looks good on you."
I made a tired face thinking of my sharp-tongued staff, and the count brightened.
Ah, does he think his schemes caused my headaches?
Just annoying, nothing major...
"Still, moderation is key. Overdoing it could backfire."
"Thanks for the advice."
I continued the gloomy act, lowering my eyes slightly, and flowers practically bloomed on his face.
Wonder what he'd think knowing his plots all reached His Majesty.
"By the way, where's your partner?"
The question I'd wondered when would finally dropped.
In these banquets, partner jabs are the deadliest—I'd aligned with Princess Elizabeth and hid her to provoke this.
But with momentum, they bit hard.
"Stepped out for a moment."
I paused slightly as if troubled, then answered dryly with a stiff expression.
Their eyes sparkled, mouths twitching like eager pups sensing a bite.
"How long since arrival and already gone?"
"Seems she's faint-hearted, not used to these events."
"Wasn't seen from the start—make sense."
"Heh heh heh~ No partner at all, maybe?"
"Who knows..."
"Or is that maid beside you the partner?"
"Haha, Grandfather, even you can't think anyone brings a maid as partner?"
"Exactly? No reason to pick a maid—no way you lack options."
"Would a meritorious house stoop that low?"
I'd actually considered Emily, so it stung a bit.
Didn't expect such vicious digging.
Would've been disastrous if Emily really was.
"Well... All my fault."
I wrapped it up neatly as my incompetence.
No need for excuses—I could refute in minutes.
See if you say that crap soon...
"Still, bringing a harlot-like woman as partner is too vulgar to overlook."
"What...?"
I stared at Viscount Torington, furrowing my brow, wondering if I'd misheard.
"Did I say something wrong?"
"You son of a..."
What did this bastard just say?