The Havertz Name Carries No Good Memories
To Charlotte Havertz, the name Havertz was one that should never have been allowed to evoke anything pleasant.
Not the family itself, nor any single member of it. No one had ever truly pleased her.
Her father, Douglas Havertz, and her brother Isaac Havertz, too.
It was merely a matter of preference, perhaps. At its core, there had never been any genuine blood tie. After her mother, who had tried to bridge that gap, passed away, she had sealed her heart shut and never opened it again.
The life of a noblewoman filled with luxury and privilege had never been for her. Before her magic awakened, she had endured her father’s near-abusive treatment almost every day.
And in the end, when her power finally stirred to life, it had been her own father who had driven her to the unthinkable—something no words could fully describe.
*The Duke of Havertz…*
Biologically her father, yet she could not bring herself to call him that.
The mere memory still twisted her stomach and burned behind her eyes.
Charlotte bit her lower lip, her gaze chilled by a killing intent so absolute it could have frozen blood.
The night still burned in her memory. Bound by magical chains, treated like livestock, locked away while he watched her with eyes devoid of even a flicker of affection.
She could not forget that face.
Right now, at this very moment, she could have faced him. She was skilled enough to fight him if she wished.
But that was all in the past. The Duke of Havertz… was dead.
“Huu…”
Charlotte let out a long, shaky sigh and swept her bangs aside with a rough hand.
She had heard the heartbeat stop. She had torn his body apart into dozens of pieces. The accumulated hatred still remained, but it no longer mattered.
Thinking about it now only brought heat to her head—nothing but meaningless thoughts.
She clicked her tongue and walked down the corridor until she stood before the steward’s office of the ducal residence.
The brutal magic duel that had ended in the Duke of Havertz’s death… that night still lingered in her thoughts.
The man who would inherit the title behind that door was, of course, Isaac Havertz.
*…Brother.*
Her cheeks, still flushed with a faint red, betrayed her earlier composure.
Charlotte placed her hand against her chest, her expression soft and innocent like a girl in love.
She had doubted it before, but now she knew. She could not deny it.
Everything Isaac had done for these five years—everything he had sacrificed to protect her.
Until that moment, to her he had been nothing more than a terrifying superior, nothing but the duke’s son.
*…That was not true.*
The truth had been hidden in plain sight. The kind looks she had glimpsed in private moments. The punishments he had endured. The way he had pretended to lust after his own sister.
Reconsidering everything, she realized he had been playing a personal role to establish his position as successor. To eliminate the duke’s subordinates.
Had he ever truly touched her? Of course not. The moment they entered his chambers he had abandoned her without a single act.
Even the way he had looked after her needs and made sure she could be alone whenever she wished—it had all been a silent form of care.
Bit by bit, over the last few months, she had begun to feel her own heart softening toward him.
And the moment she was imprisoned, he had killed her father.
“Ah…”
Charlotte stood before the door of the steward’s office, her mind far away, lost in memories of the past.
Her face was flushed crimson, her eyes shining with a wild, almost reverent awe as she thought of that night.
The man who had torn open the iron bars, pulled her up into his arms, covered in blood.
*Brother… brother… brother…*
It had been so overwhelming with emotion that she could scarcely breathe.
In the depths of despair, where she had abandoned all hope for her terrible future, Isaac had been the only one who had pulled her back from the brink.
Now, simply remembering it made her entire lower body tremble with unbearable heat. Her body, soaked in the ache of love for him, was already blazing with passion.
Her hand rested on her cheek, her breathing growing heavier.
*Boom!*
The steward’s office door burst open.
The elderly man who stepped out was the steward of the Havertz family, Hummel, but he did not seem to notice her presence at first.
He froze, then quickly composed himself.
“Himmel.”
“…Lady Charlotte.”
Charlotte looked up at the old man with eyes that were now utterly cold and emotionless. The childish softness she had shown earlier had vanished long ago.
The old steward of the Havertz household, Himmel, smoothed his expression and bowed deeply.
He had once served under the Duke of Havertz, yet because of his neutral stance, Charlotte had spared him.
He was now the only remaining vassal in the entire ducal residence—and in the entire duchy.
The sudden whirlwind of that night still haunted him.
He had cooperated with the duke, or sworn true loyalty.
Whatever the case, he had been deeply connected to the man who had now been slaughtered.
No one like that remained in the residence.
Himmel swallowed hard and recalled the memory.
The twenty-six-year-old who had killed an 8th-circle archmage and seized his seat was Isaac Havertz, but those who knew the full truth would name another as the true mastermind.
The moment the golden opportunity of the duke’s death had appeared, the emperor himself had marched his army into the duchy.
…And the Blood Witch had wiped that imperial army away with nothing but a gesture.
Her grand title stood in stark contrast to her true identity: the young magic user named Charlotte Havertz.
“Anything to say?”
“…No.”
Himmel’s tail drooped at once.
He was no ordinary old man. He had survived every battlefield and reached the position of second-in-command.
Yet he could not stand before the girl who had raised a mountain of blood with a single wave of her hand.
*Warning. If you come any closer, I will crush that entire insignificant army along with you.*
The pressure she had exuded from high above, the aura of absolute power…
“Regarding the paperwork for the ducal duties I mentioned, I have already prepared everything. The succession ceremony will proceed without the slightest disturbance.”
Every single person in the residence understood at that moment.
The master of this land would change hands.
A brother who, at twenty, had slain the strongest mage in the empire and stolen his position.
A younger sister who had terrified even the supreme emperor himself.
Living disasters, calamities, disasters incarnate—these two siblings were no different from disasters.
How could anyone dare oppose them?
The fact that the Havertz siblings would soon stand at the center of power was not limited to the duchy.
Himmel lowered his waist even deeper than before, his loyalty unmistakable.
“I offer my deepest respects, *Lord Master*.”
“Hmm…?”
Offering a title that sounded almost endearing was an act of profound respect, on par with the old man’s years of service.
*Lord Master*—not Lady. The title reserved for the wife of a duke.
Himmel had known instantly what emotions she held for Isaac, her brother, the next duke.
“If you prefer the title of Duchess more, I shall change it immediately.”
“…Hehe.”
Himmel’s voice had been grave, yet Charlotte let out a small, soft laugh.
She smiled gently, her expression far softer than it had been moments earlier.
“Himmel, you…”
“…?”
“You are pleasing. Continue like this.”
“…Thank you, Lord Master!”
“Mmm.”
Charlotte hummed a little tune, her mood visibly lightened, and stepped into the inner office. The sound of her heels clicking on the floor faded, followed by the soft click of the door closing.
“Huu…”
Himmel wiped the cold sweat from his brow and thought to himself.
Incestuous relationships between nobles were not uncommon in this empire. Even in the capital, such unions within the first generation were not rare.
As a vassal, it was nothing more than a fortunate circumstance.
He had no intention of harboring any feelings for her, nor had he ever entertained such a thought.
Himmel was a man faithful to every duty.
“Now I must pay my respects to the Duke as well… If the Lady has come, that means the duke has come to pay his respects as well.”
Himmel folded his handkerchief neatly and tucked it away, then turned toward the corridor.