Breaking the Engagement (Part 1)
For Amber Hyde, the past few days had been a living nightmare. In truth, it was far worse than that.
I should have gone to see him right then and there.
She should have moved the moment she learned the truth—when she discovered that the mere verbal warning her father had nudged a junior prosecutor to recommend to the Imperial Guard had somehow snowballed into an outright disciplinary dismissal, and that Dame Celine’s sly poisoning of her mind against Eric had been a calculated scheme all along.
Yet back then, Amber hadn't lifted a finger, convinced that Eric was hopelessly isolated within the Order.
Even the circle of friends she routinely associated with had urged her to keep her distance. Most of them were the daughters of legal officials and mid-level bureaucrats. While Amber desperately yearned for elegant ties with high-ranking noble ladies, such aspirations were utterly out of reach, leaving her to settle for acquaintances who matched her own social standing.
“Your fiancé is finished. Do you have any idea what a disciplinary dismissal from the Imperial Guard actually means? It doesn't just mean he’s out of a job; it’s a permanent social stigma. The real retaliation won’t even start until after he steps down.”
“Forty billion? Haah... Amber, you don’t seriously think Eric can hold onto that kind of money, do you? Hate to break it to you, but he’ll be lucky to keep a quarter of it. Honestly, it wouldn't surprise me if they strip him of every last coin and exile him to some godforsaken border margraviate.”
“The imperial family and the grand dukes—all their personal escorts hail from the Imperial Guard. When that entire network starts tightening the screws, how could your fiancé possibly endure it? He’s... just a commoner, after all.”
Having grown up under elite bureaucrats, they certainly sounded astute when dissecting worldly affairs. Cut ties with Eric to keep yourself safe; run after him for the money and you and your family will take the fall; break the engagement now while your reputation is intact so you can find another man—
At the time, their warnings had sounded utterly convincing.
Her chest ached whenever she thought of the forty billion liras sitting in Eric’s hands, but her cold, aloof fiancé had never shown the slightest inclination to share his fortune anyway.
Right. They’re right. Eric is finished.
Even if things didn't degenerate to the point where he was stripped of all his wealth and driven into the dirt, she had been certain he would never enjoy a life of ease. In the Empire—and above all, in the Imperial Capital—turning the Imperial Guard into an enemy was just that dangerous.
Yet what had happened since?
As time wore on, Eric showed no signs of being socially ruined. On the contrary, whispers and evidence surfaced from every direction indicating that his standing wasn't precarious at all.
“I hear Commander Wainwright personally sent letters under his own name to the prominent noble houses. Told them that if anyone wanted to recruit Eric, he wouldn't object. It seems that while he dismissed him over a transgression, he has no intention of destroying him.”
“Word is he even leaned on the Capital Garrison Commander to increase patrols in the 18th District. Apparently Eric's running some kind of relief clinic down there with the proceeds from his Kodana sale. Could it be tied to that?”
“Then why the hell did he kick him out in the first place? Is the Commander an idiot?”
“Well... hard to argue against that. Still, don't say it so loudly.”
Those were the rumors Amber had overheard when she reluctantly attended a salon a few days prior. To think the Commander of the Imperial Guard was quietly looking out for Eric. Shielding a knight he had cast out with his own two hands was hardly the work of a rational mind. It was the equivalent of viciously running a man through with a blade and then tossing him a low-grade potion.
Yet whatever his eccentricities, Wainwright’s word carried immense weight.
He was one of only three Sword Masters on the continent, boasting the highest prestige and noble status among them. Not only was he an extraordinary warrior in his own right, but he also wielded formidable political influence as the head of an influential countdom with vast rock salt mines. Though rumors mocked him as blunt and foolish, that did not diminish his standing at the absolute pinnacle of power.
If he was going to act like this, why did he even push him out in the first place...?
If it were up to her, she would have marched straight to the Imperial Guard headquarters to demand answers from the Commander, but that was an utter impossibility. Rufus Wainwright was not someone an unemployed, merely pretty young woman could demand an audience with.
Failing that, she wished she could confront Celine—the root cause of this entire debacle—yet that too was impossible. After thoroughly ruining everything, Celine had fled the capital under the pretense of defending her family estate.
Amber could hardly chase her all the way to the Rankart Viscountcy, which was reportedly being trampled by lizardman hordes. In the end, all Amber could do was pound her chest in silent, suffocating anguish.
It felt as though the entire world had conspired to torment her.
As Amber felt Eric—with whom she was already estranged—slipping completely beyond her reach, she sank into despair. She could not comprehend why tears kept welling up when they had never shared a tender romance, why the indifferent face he had always shown her kept haunting her mind now of all times, or where those forty billion liras were being spent.
What finally shook her from her self-absorbed daze was her father returning home, an excited gleam in his eye, to deliver a piece of welcome news.
“Is that true, Father...?”
“Yes. There is still a chance, Amber.”
With her composure restored thanks to her father, Amber immediately set about preparing for her reunion with Eric.
To shed any image of greed, she deliberately purchased plain, unadorned clothing and chose not to wear cosmetics or perfume, hoping to evoke his sympathy. She believed this was the only way to soften his guarded heart, even by a fraction.
Above all, she resolved never to bring up his wealth in his presence. After all, if she succeeded in mending their relationship and seeing their marriage through, she would be entitled to share in that colossal fortune anyway.
Soon enough, the day of action arrived. Eric had finally moved into the 3rd District.
After exchanging a resolute glance with her father, Amber stepped out of the house with grim determination. She vowed that no matter what Eric said, she would maintain a contrite, repentant demeanor throughout. Though entirely baseless, she had an uncanny premonition that everything was going to work out.
“Um, Master Eric? You have guests.”
The maid I hired today called out to me in an awkward voice. I hadn't even finished unpacking my crates yet.
Managing such a massive estate all by myself would have been thoroughly miserable, so I had hired someone—a girl named Amelia, barely twenty years old.
She wasn't a total stranger; she had run odd jobs for the administrative division back in the Imperial Guard. Since I wasn't used to managing domestic staff yet, bringing in an unfamiliar face had felt awkward.
“Guests? I only just moved in.”
“He introduced himself as a Senior Prosecutor.”
Prosecutors showing up the second I moved in. Obviously, he wasn't here on official business, which made his identity crystal clear: Gregory Hyde, Amber's father. And in all likelihood, Amber had tagged along.
To think the very first guests in my new house are those two.
It was irritating, but there was no reason to turn them away. Conveniently enough, I had a few choice words for them as well.
“Understood. Show them to the parlor.”
A moment later, I sat across from the Hyde father and daughter.
The man was an otherwise personable middle-aged gentleman in his late forties with a slight stoop in his posture. Beside him sat a blonde, blue-eyed beauty, clutching her father's hand tightly while directing a sorrowful, imploring gaze at me.
One glance was enough to tell they were father and daughter; their facial features bore an unmistakable resemblance.
To an outsider, they might have looked like a warm, loving family, but in my eyes, they were nothing more than backstabbing leeches.
“Is this your servant? Forgive me, but would you mind having her step outside for a moment?” Gregory said.
“Ah, yes, sir.”
Amelia hurried to excuse herself, but I raised a hand to stop her.
“No need. Stay right where you are. If your legs get tired, pull up a chair.”
“Pardon? Ah, yes, sir.”
I hadn't kept Amelia in the room on a whim. I was following the advice of that retired lawyer: Always keep a witness on hand. If Amber tried to manufacture a scene and claim I had laid hands on her, it would devolve into a filthy mudslinging contest. Not that I would ever touch the girl right in front of her own father, but prudence never hurt.
“Eric. I hardly think our upcoming discussion is suitable for a servant's ears...?” Gregory began.
“My apologies, but please try to understand my position. Given your track record, I find it rather difficult to trust either of you.”
“Either of us? Did you just refer to us as ‘either of you’?”
Yes, you heard me right, I thought, staring right back at the pair of them without blinking.
Amber’s father opened and closed his mouth like a landed fish, completely lost for words.
That brought to mind the lawyer’s second piece of advice: Never give them an opening to make excuses. If you indulge their long-winded rationalizations, you inevitably end up arguing over who was in the right and who was in the wrong. Especially when dealing with legal minds, prolonging the conversation was the worst thing one could do.
Before her father could recover, Amber stepped in.
“...Eric? What are you saying? Regardless of what happened, he is still my father.”
“Miss Amber, my apologies. But you must consider that my career as a knight was abruptly terminated by the disciplinary recommendation the Senior Prosecutor here submitted. Now I'm reduced to handing out bread to street urchins just to scrape together a living. Do you truly expect me to be in high spirits?”
“That was... of course, that was my fault. But Eric, please don't exaggerate. From what I’ve heard, you are on perfectly good terms with Commander Wainwright...”
“That is true. But that was only possible because I fell to my knees and begged the Commander for mercy. It was only after I swore that I would spend the rest of my days doing charity work after leaving the Order that he took pity on me. To be perfectly honest, my knees still ache from that day.”
“That wasn't something you had to apologize for! The Imperial Guard was being petty to begin with—”
“None of this would have happened if Senior Prosecutor Hyde hadn’t blown the matter out of proportion in the first place,” I cut in. “I was branded with the disgrace of tearing through a civilian village under the pretext of hunting deserters. Faced with that kind of public stain, the Order had no choice but to purge me.”
“......”
The Amber I knew would have dropped her mask and bristled with indignation by now. Seeing her maintain that forlorn, tearful expression made me realize just how desperate she truly was. Naturally, whether her eyes welled with tears or not, I had no intention of wavering.
Instead, the lawyer’s final piece of advice echoed in my mind.
“There are far too many fools in this world who offer to pay compensation just to settle a broken engagement quietly. But that is the worst possible course of action.”
If you truly want a clean, swift severance, his advice had been to turn the tables and demand compensation from them instead. Not an absurd, impossible fortune, but an impeccably calculated, realistic figure.
I decided to follow that counsel to the letter.
“I will not ask you to restore my ruined honor. Just pay me a modest settlement fee, and I will step aside cleanly.”
“A... settlement fee...?”
In an instant, the faces of both father and daughter drained of all color. Smoothly, I slid a piece of parchment bearing the precalculated compensation amount across the table, right under their noses.