A Woman with No Eye for Men (2)

Generally, the eldest son or daughter stays with the family to inherit the title. Second sons or daughters take on roles as aides, enter monasteries or convents, become scholars, or join knight orders—that sort of thing. It's all to prevent unnecessary succession disputes that could arise if they stayed on the estate. But if the eldest is deemed unfit for succession, the family head can designate a different heir.

The Duke of Hohenburg shipped his own eldest son off to be a civil servant. And no one interpreted it as, "Go shine glory on the family as head of the Security Bureau." It was more like, "Not even a crumb of Hohenburg bread is worth wasting on a punk like you"—they'd basically kicked him out. An unwanted child. Given that Godfrey's younger sister had been named as the next duke, it wasn't a wildly off-base reading.

And Cain was planning to quit soon anyway, so he decided there was no need to show respect to a fellow section chief of the same rank. Truth be told, he hadn't shown Godfrey any before either.

"Section Chief Godfrey. Got some free time ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠on your hands?"

"We've finished all our work, and we've already met our quotas. Unlike some people who drag their feet till month-end, barely snag one guy, and call it a day."

The Second Section guys snickered. Arresting bandit knights was the Security Bureau's top priority. Chief Verneis didn't assign quotas per department, but each section still competed over who caught more. It was a matter of pride.

The Security Bureau was practically a club for the empire's top nobles. And nobles loved showing off. A noble who couldn't promote themselves might as well not exist—straight path to obsolescence. The Bureau couldn't flaunt their noble status, but that instinct didn't change. They'd been raised that way in noble houses.

But the Bureau's diverse duties made outright competition impossible. Bandit knight arrests, though? Those had objective numbers you could measure.

"We nabbed six this month alone. Fourth Section only got one, right?"

Lily's face hardened. Cain snorted.

"Proud of catching six starving bandit knights who could barely choke down a loaf every other day?"

"We're smart about it. We don't waste a whole month chasing one idiot like Goetz. Gotta think efficiency per manpower invested."

"That's only a valid argument if the efficiencies are equal."

Cain responded calmly. "Goetz alone is more dangerous than the six knights you caught. And let's be real—the reason you didn't go after him wasn't the performance metrics, was it?"

"What?"

"Weren't you scared? If you're so proud of that manpower efficiency, why didn't you grab him when Chief Verneis even put a bounty on his head?"

"That bounty wasn't that big."

Godfrey was still smirking, his thick jaw gleaming. "We don't blow Bureau budget like crazy chasing him down. And we sure don't beat a knight like a mangy dog with a staff. Oh, right—commoner stock, so you wouldn't get the whole 'honor' thing?"

Cain stopped in his tracks. He couldn't let that slide.

"That kind of guy's a knight?"

"Goetz von Bearinggen is a knight. Built up a solid military record. Never stripped of his title. Born noble, acted the part. And the Bureau isn't some dogcatcher outfit—we don't club 'em with staffs instead of swords?"

"Why? Problem?"

"Big problem."

Godfrey grinned wider. "I don't buy the rumors that mighty Fourth Section Chief Cain won't touch a sword. Truth is, you're too scared to draw one, right?"

Cain told himself not to get riled up—and that's where he slipped. His mouth twitched.

Seeing Cain's reaction, Godfrey pressed on with glee. "Or maybe it's that old mess in the east way back when. Still too terrified to pull steel?"

The Second Section crew burst out laughing, clutching their guts. Cain smiled back, but the veins bulged on the hand gripping his staff.

"The sword for dogs ain't the same as the one for oxen. In that sense, Duke Wilhelm Hohenburg was wise as hell. Parents can't be objective about their kids. He saw right through his eldest son's talents."

Street-brawling thug suited him better than ruling a territory—Godfrey lunged, of course. His men grabbed him, whispering in his ear.

"You're resigning?"

Godfrey stared at Cain, dumbfounded.

"Yeah. I'm out."

"Thought you'd cling till senility set in. Must be a dream honor for a commoner punk like you. Pro tip: outside these walls, don't pull this shit. You'll lose your head quick. Especially if you can't even swing a sword."

Cain politely ignored him. Lily wasn't following, so he tugged her arm. Her face was rock-hard.

"Fourth Section might finally shape up now. How'd a commoner punk snag chief? Must've whacked some noble lady for sponsorship, huh?"

Lily steadied her breathing.

"Hey. What's the holdup?"

Cain's words fell on deaf ears as she turned and walked back. The Second Section guys were still chuckling.

"Section Chief Godfrey of the Second."

"Yeah? What, Agent Lily?"

Lily politely pulled a white handkerchief from her pocket. Before the Second Section agents could react, she tossed it at Godfrey's feet.

"By the Imperial Duel Decree, I challenge you to a duel."

The Second Section agents froze, mouths agape. Lily calmly recited procedure.

"Per Imperial Edict 33, you may hire a proxy fighter, and by mutual agreement, the time, method, procedure, and rules may be set separately. Furthermore..."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Hold up."

Godfrey waved her off. "A duel? You? Against me?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"You insulted our section and the Security Bureau. Calling a commoner 'punk' who sits as chief, and saying he 'whacked a noble lady for the seat'—that's an affront to the superiors who appointed Chief Cain, and a slander on Fourth Section's reputation as a whole. I can't stand by as a member."

Godfrey's face twisted. Lily tried to continue calmly—until Cain whispered from the side.

"Lil... Lily. No."

"It's fine."

Her expression was ironclad. "He's still my chief. I can't just let it—"

"No. It doesn't meet Imperial Edict 33's duel criteria."

"...Pardon?"

Lily was genuinely flustered. Cain itched to scratch his head.

"Damage to royal, family, or personal honor qualifies, but not if you're not the party involved or it's an official body's honor. So that dog-bark about Fourth Section or our superiors? Worth a beating, sure, but not duel-worthy."

Flustered, Lily looked lost. Luckily, Godfrey and his crew were glued to Cain's words—they were clueless too.

"Makes sense you wouldn't know."

Cain sighed. "Nobody picks duels over crap like this."

"Son of a bitch."

Godfrey spat, finally clocking it. Cain grinned.

"Be grateful. Godfrey. A duel with the White Blood Knight Order's prized daughter? Way above your paygrade."

A house that lived by the sword, facing their proudly raised second daughter. Tough to win, and if he so much as nicked a hair on Lily's head? Godfrey's side would be in deep shit. Duels were about the parties' stakes, with obedience to results as principle. But principles and law didn't sway hearts. Masked White Blood knights might "adjust" Hohenburg lands accordingly. If the family outcast picked a fight with a founding hero's knight order to boot? Duke Hohenburg would clutch his neck.

That was Cain's point. Seizing the Second Section's confusion, he pulled Lily away. Godfrey's humiliation was his to bear; he could cover Lily's embarrassment.

Cain picked up her handkerchief. "Let's go. We're late."

"...Yes."

But Duke Hohenburg's judgment was spot-on. Godfrey couldn't rein in his temper.

"Chief's a thickhead, so his ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠agents are too. Told ya—subordinates' smarts cap at their chief's."

The taunt rang loud from behind. Cain and Lily halted.

"That qualifies as duel grounds."

Lily snatched the handkerchief from Cain's hand. Godfrey blanched, realizing his screw-up.

"Section Chief Godfrey of the Second, I challenge you to—"

Ba-ba-bam! Ba-ba-ba-bam!

A trumpet blast tore through the park. Lily yanked her hand back. Nursemaids scooped up kids in a hurry. Picnickers rose. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Coachmen pulled carriages to the roadside; knights dismounted.

Ba-ba-bam! Ba-ba-ba-bam!

Hoofbeats heralded a knight in golden armor emerging from across the park. Imperial Guard.

"Make way with respect! Make way with respect!"

Cain and everyone lined the road. Even the rude Second Section crew. None could stare straight at the sun.

Ba-ba-bam—ba-ba-ba-bam!

All knelt. Those who couldn't knelt by sitting flat. Noisy kids fell silent in awe. But curiosity burned hot. Folks peeked up slyly.

A massive, fierce warhorse. Saddle ornaments showed a simple chalice, brimming over with liquid.

Holy Grail Knight Order. The church's holy knights' emblem.

And that was odd. Why Grail Knights after the Imperial Guard? Holy knights served the church and pope, not the emperor. Especially with the pope and emperor smiling while stabbing each other in the back.

But imagination stopped there. The plain-to-the-point procession passed, followed by knights in eye-searing splendor. Purple base color, though. Reserved for emperor and royals alone.

Even the most curious couldn't lift their heads now. Life trumped ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠curiosity.

So when the procession halted abruptly, everyone's confusion and discomfort stemmed from that.

My knees are killing me.

How long do we bow? Why aren't they moving?

Cain grumbled inwardly too—until someone tapped his shoulder.

A splendid mustachioed Imperial Guard. He signaled Cain to rise. Another raised Lily. The guard pointed at Cain and Lily, then himself.

Follow in silence.

A massive carriage drawn by six prime steeds. Gold standard, dripping jewels. Door emblem: twin-headed eagle, left head dead, right stiff-necked. Crowned, clutching scepter in one talon, sword in the other.

Window open, but curtains drawn. A woman's silhouette behind.

"Guard Captain."

An irritated voice too.

"I told you excessive precedent burdens us."

"By Her Majesty's command."

"Sister's words terrify, mine amuse?"

"...No, ma'am."

A clear laugh. The carriage door opened. The noblewoman herself.

Beauty of twenty, poise of forty, eyes of sixty.

"Enough formality. You two—get in. Now."

A brief tussle. The captain pointed at Cain's briefcase and staff. Cain offered them politely, but.

The noblewoman pinched her brow. "I said now. Just bring 'em."

The captain shoved them aboard. Cain's wedged briefcase slipped; Lily snatched it, clutching like a brooding hen. Ignoring Cain's baffled look.

The woman sighed irritably, slamming the door. Only then did relief wash over her.

"In Father's day, people weren't like this. World slowed down? Or did I speed up?"

Neither Cain nor Lily answered easily. She teased wickedly.

"Or do even my students now find the imperial house laughable? Cain—still going by that? Your thoughts?"

"I am humbled."

"Lost your edge. You're aging too."

She laughed, amused. "Didn't I say 'disciple'? So call me by title now."

"Understood... Professor."

"Now we can talk easy."

She shook her head. "And... Lily, right?"

"Yes, ma'am!"

"That speech never changed post-grad. Cain's bad influence?"

"No, ma'am!"

The slender noblewoman opposite wore navy blue. Fan poked Cain's knee.

"Too harsh on this cute, lovely girl, no? Cain?"

Cain chuckled softly.

Imperial Capital Academy history professor. Prime minister's wife. Emperor's sister.

And the rebel, Anna Kommodus.

* * * *

The procession passed. Crowds dispersed. One Second Section underling asked his chief,

"That noblewoman the Fourth Chief supposedly whacked..."

Godfrey glared murderously. The underling shut up.

Thankfully, Godfrey redirected his hate at the receding procession.