The Knighting Ceremony (1)
The duke remained silent for a long moment before answering me, his face twisting into something rotten and sour. “...Judgment is yours to make.”
Judgment is free. In other words, he wouldn’t bother himself with it, so I should do whatever the hell I wanted. It was unexpected. The Belger Winfred I knew would have forced a knight from the ducal house into Kyle’s escort no matter what.
He must be quite pleased about obtaining the Holy Blood.
I didn’t bother replying. In the suffocating silence, I kept shoving food into my mouth without pause, desperate to finish the meal as quickly as possible. The duke did the same. Whether my argument had soured his mood, he didn’t utter a single word the entire time.
Soon after, the duke finished eating and rose first. Since it was only breakfast, the number of dishes had been modest and the meal didn’t drag on. I left the rest of my food untouched and stood as well, following his lead.
“…”
The duke turned a darkened gaze on me the moment I rose. When I stared back at him in confusion, he continued in a weary tone.
“Yesterday evening, an official letter arrived from House Ustia. They sent a formal reply regarding the engagement cancellation you wanted so badly.”
I had been about to head upstairs, but I froze mid-step and turned around. “A reply, sir?”
“Yes. It bore the count’s personal seal.”
“What did it say?”
“Their daughter suffered a tremendous wound to her heart, apparently. They added that she does not wish for the engagement to be broken.”
The absurd news made my eyes widen. The daughter, of course, meant Isabelle. Which meant she was still refusing to accept the end of our engagement.
Fuck.
Irritation surged up my throat until the back of my neck burned. The duke’s calm voice reached me through the haze.
“They also demanded compensation.”
That much I had expected. When one side unilaterally shatters a marriage arrangement between noble houses, demanding a hefty sum under the pretext of damaged honor was standard procedure.
But what came next was pure farce.
“They specifically mentioned the Holy Blood as the compensation.”
I no longer had the presence of mind to hide my emotions; raw disbelief flooded my face. The Holy Blood? It was compensation in name only. In truth, it was nothing more than a roundabout refusal of the engagement cancellation.
“You know as well as I do, Kyle. If House Ustia maintains their position until the end…”
“...It will go to an imperial trial. I’m aware.”
“Correct. There’s no need to worry. It will amount to nothing more than stalling for time.”
The outcome would not change. The duke spoke with absolute certainty.
Yes, the outcome wouldn’t change. Demanding the Holy Blood as compensation was ridiculous. The trial would naturally conclude with an appropriate payment to House Ustia and formal recognition of the broken engagement.
But there was another problem.
I’m screwed.
An imperial trial was a proceeding for nobles, complete with endless formalities, pointless rituals, and tedious procedures. In other words, the time required to hold even one such trial was obscenely long.
For someone in my position—someone who needed to leave this mansion as soon as possible—this was a bolt from the blue.
“…”
Should I just offer them the Holy Blood and be done with it?
But unless the duke had lost his mind, he would never accept such an outrageous condition when the simpler path of an imperial trial lay open. To provoke the Winfred ducal house—one of the empire’s three guardian families—with such blatant insolence… There was no doubt about it. The entire Ustia family, Isabelle included, had gone mad.
As I swallowed my fury in silence, the duke continued in a gentler tone.
“There were additional conditions listed.”
“Such as?”
“Lady Isabelle. They state that if you succeed in persuading her alone, they will accept the dissolution of the engagement in exchange for a modest compensation.”
The duke’s eyes glittered with interest, as though he were curious to see how I would respond.
There was no choice. I answered without hesitation. “I will persuade her myself.”
“Do as you please.”
Having said his piece, the duke turned away without a backward glance. Moments later, two servants emerged and carefully opened the doors of the now-silent dining hall.
The duke headed to his study with the old butler who had been waiting outside. I returned to my room, dropping onto the couch at a crooked angle.
“It’s still fine. There’s plenty of time.”
All I had to do was persuade Isabelle. It wouldn’t be that difficult. I simply needed to create a situation where she had no choice but to accept the broken engagement.
“I’ll think about that later…”
What mattered right now was the knighting ceremony that would be held soon. The objective was to recruit Diana as Kyle’s personal knight. Since I had already obtained the duke’s permission, every necessary preparation was essentially complete.
After sorting my thoughts, I turned my head. Something irritating caught my eye in the shifted view.
An antique tan case of elegant design. Inside it rested a silver ring—the other half of the engagement ring Kyle Winfred had given to Isabelle.
I narrowed my eyes and let out a short sigh. Then, in a firm voice, I muttered, “...Just as well.”
I needed to go out anyway. Might as well start by selling off this damned, irritating ring.
****
Knock, knock—
A maid rapped carefully on the door twice. Her name was Erika, the dedicated maid assigned to attend Isabelle personally.
“My lady, it’s me.”
Erika had worked in the mansion since the day Isabelle was born. Her mother had served here before her, and in the distant future, Erika’s own children would likely do the same. Erika cherished Isabelle.
The only daughter of one of the empire’s most prominent count families, blessed with impeccable manners, striking beauty, and a character that could serve as a model for all nobles—Erika, whose family had served House Ustia for generations, could not have hated her young mistress even if she tried.
That same young lady had begun behaving strangely on a bright, sunny day after returning from a visit to the Winfred ducal mansion for the engagement ceremony.
For reasons Erika didn’t understand, the young lady’s face upon her return had been filled with indescribable sorrow. Nor had that been the only change.
The ring she received from Kyle Winfred—the illegitimate son of House Winfred, a man she had once loathed—she had begun to treasure it. She never removed it from her finger, not even for a moment. Sometimes she would gaze at it with a wistful expression; other times she would smile so warmly it seemed her face might melt.
To cherish so deeply a ring given by a man she had despised… Erika could not comprehend it.
Then, a few days ago, the young lady had suddenly gone out in the evening and returned in a wretched state. She had spent the entire night locked in her room, swallowing her sobs.
That was when it began.
The smile that had never left the young lady’s face disappeared, replaced by a deep, abiding darkness. From then on, she could hardly sleep at night. The slightest sound made her flinch. She would stare vacantly into empty space and mutter to herself as though her soul had left her body.
And now—
“My lady, are you inside?”
Erika continued knocking, determined to deliver the news about Kyle Winfred that her mistress had emphasized so strongly.
“...Come in.”
When she opened the door, she saw her lady seated at the table by the window. Erika glanced sideways at the table. It was still laden with the lavish meal she had prepared hours earlier. Untouched. Exactly as she had left it.
It’s the same again…
Ever since the day House Winfred officially requested the cancellation of the engagement, her lady had begun skipping meals whenever possible.
“My lady, about the upcoming knighting ceremony.”
Her lady remained lost in thought, staring out the window. Her expression was strangely forlorn as she gently stroked the ring on her finger.
Erika pressed on. “They say… Kyle Winfred will also be attending this ceremony.”
Clatter!
The young lady, who had seemed barely interested, shot up from her chair.
“Kyle… what? Who?!”
“Kyle Winfred, my lady. Your fiancé.”
“Kyle is coming to the knighting ceremony?!”
Isabelle’s eyes widened dramatically. It was the most alive Erika had seen her in days.
“Are you certain?”
“Of course! I heard it directly from the head maid herself. You know her son is one of the officials in charge of the ceremony.”
A whirlwind of emotions swept across the young lady’s face. She looked, in cruder terms, like someone who had lost a few screws.
Erika watched anxiously, unsure what to do.
“Kyle… the knighting ceremony…”
Isabelle paced in tight circles, biting her thumb. When the flustered Erika took a step back, Isabelle stopped abruptly and declared in a grave voice, “I must go see the head maid.”
“Pardon? For what reason?”
Isabelle paused at the question. After a moment of silence, she spoke.
“The knighting ceremony. I wish to attend and watch as well.”
Though she tried to sound indifferent, the corners of her mouth curved upward—ever so slightly, yet unmistakably.