Chapter 59
Chapter 59
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: penny
Chapter: 59
Chapter Title: Sudden Trip to Brent
-----------------------------------------------------------------
“Suddenly, Brent?”
Raphaelle paused the hand combing through her hair. Pale morning sunlight, much like the color of her locks, filtered through the window.
Seated in that disarmingly serene space, Raphaelle blinked her eyes like a doll.
“Brent...”
It had been ages since Bell had brought any fresh news.
Dever, who had been acting like he was on the verge of doing something drastic, had spent the past month in tediously identical days. He left for the office at dawn and didn't return to the mansion until long after dusk.
No one knew what he did there exactly, but he holed up without seeing anyone, then reappeared each morning as the unflappable duke.
Even Raphaelle, sharp as she was with numbers, couldn't think of any good reason for Dever to suddenly head back to his territory.
A faint shadow of worry crossed her impish features.
“He said he's taking a short break.”
“A break.”
A break and Dever. Could there be a more mismatched pairing of words?
But if not a break, then why?
“He mentioned calling friends to Brent to catch up, even if it's late.”
Come to think of it, Dever had been cooped up in the mansion ever since the greenhouse garden banquet.
“Prince Arthur is also departing for Brent this afternoon.”
“Arthur too?”
Only then did Raphaelle's arched brows, laced with unease, settle back into place.
Knowing Arthur was going came as a relief.
He might not spill every detail of Dever's every move as she wished, but it was better than nothing.
“What, a belated drinking party?”
Raphaelle's lips quirked up in a smirk.
Dever never let people into his Wayne mansion carelessly, but he often summoned folks to his own territory. Sometimes it seemed like he treated Brent like someone else's house, but the territory ran smoothly even in the lord's absence, so that wasn't quite it.
Brent was the empire's second-largest region after Wayne, serving as its breadbasket and industrial hub.
And there was one secret people hushed up.
It was also where the worst addicts gathered.
“I'd better hurry and get ready to head out. Don't you think I should at least see his face before he leaves?”
“Yes, Princess.”
As Bell tapped her fingers together, maids waiting outside the door swiftly entered the room.
“Something neat. Proper.”
The maids were more flustered than ever these days, thanks to the princess's changed tastes. The girl who once sought the flashiest clothes and jewels now hunted for the drabbest ones.
Though her pinching and prodding anything that didn't suit her was hardly subdued.
“To the Cliff family. Oh, we're taking the car today.”
Raphaelle, who usually rode in the golden imperial carriage waiting at the palace front, climbed into the sleek black automobile.
The maids gave her outfit one last adjustment, inwardly marveling at how impeccably put-together she looked, shell and all.
Raphaelle was, without question, the empire's most coveted bride.
The servants bustled about, loading the duke's hunting rifle into his car.
“Out wolf hunting again, sir?”
The butler asked with concern, and Dever replied with a light chuckle.
“They say Nexus wolves are getting fiercer by the day.”
“But can they compare to people?”
Dever said it half in jest.
“You haven't done it much lately...”
“Back then, it wasn't wolves. It was the enemy army.”
The old butler fell silent.
The young duke's face, as he gazed at him briefly, seemed utterly unconcerned with what he'd just said.
“Still, heading to Brent for a hunt in the dead of winter worries this old man.”
“I'm going to Brent precisely for Oliver, who frets that Cliff Duke might die a lonely death.”
Dever replied while inspecting the barrel of his long-unused rifle for rust. The gun fit his hand like an extension of his body.
“If anyone comes looking, send them to Brent. I'll meet them there.”
“Understood.”
The servants gathered to see off their master, departing for a brief respite, lined up in formation to bid him farewell.
“Whoa!”
The driver let out a sharp yelp.
Blocking the car on the long avenue of street trees stretching from the mansion's main gate was a royal vehicle stamped with the Nexus seal.
“Dever!”
And from its back seat emerged Raphaelle, draped in a cape so vibrantly blue it hurt the eyes.
Dever's impassive face didn't intimidate her in the least. Instead, she tilted her head with a friendly smile, as if to lift his spirits.
“Forgive my sudden intrusion. I came all this way just to see you off after hearing you're headed to Brent.”
“I see.”
“How long do you plan to stay in Brent?”
“Haven't decided yet.”
“Would you hate it if I went too?”
Dever gazed steadily at Raphaelle, who came up to his chest. She'd once reminded him so much of Arthur, but seeing her now, they were worlds apart.
Maybe it was the mother.
“For the princess's sake, I must advise against it.”
“For my sake...?”
“No Nexus noble would look kindly on an unmarried princess casually visiting another man's territory.”
Another man. Casually. Other nobles.
He spat out words that grated on her one after another, each chosen to irk.
“Everyone knows the imperial family and Cliffs are thick as thieves.”
“It's merely a lord-vassal bond.”
Dever eyed the royal vehicle blocking his path. He frowned, seemingly from the blazing sun, but a hint of unmistakable emotion flickered through.
He was skilled at hiding his feelings, but now he was deliberately letting them show, as if by accident.
“Especially barging into my mansion like this, blocking the way—it's bound to harm the princess's reputation, given the bad rumors.”
Raphaelle lightly bit the inside of her red lips.
Dever smiled faintly and took a step back.
“The princess prefers climbing high, not crawling in the dirt, as I recall...”
Trailing off, he extended one arm.
“Get in the car.”
He gave her no chance to refuse.
She gripped his arm, forcing a smile, the stiff coat hem mirroring his temperament.
He seated her in the back, gave a crisp bow, and refused to budge, determined to watch the car depart.
“Let's go.”
Raphaelle glared daggers at the arrogant duke's face in the rearview mirror, right up until the car rounded the corner and his silhouette vanished completely. He stayed rooted there the whole time.
“Arrogant duke bastard.”
A pent-up breath escaped her plump lips. Hot with anger, her fury refused to subside.
Only after the car turned the corner and disappeared did Dever slowly roll his stiff neck. The cracking of his bones with each movement spoke of his accumulated fatigue.
“Boring.”
Dever kept his eyes closed in the car all the way to Brent.
His mind replayed the same scene endlessly. Just imagination.
An imagination he hoped would never come true.
“It's been too long, Your Grace.”
Even as the administrator who'd been managing Brent in his stead opened the back door, Dever didn't open his eyes.
“Congratulations on your victory.”
Brent hadn't changed much from Dever's last memory, just like Wayne. This place refused to alter its true face.
“Still the same.”
His tone was ambiguous—was it praise or rebuke?
The administrator wondered if he'd erred somewhere, sweating despite the chill.
With the family head often away at war, it was common in Nexus for an administrator to manage the territory.
Usually someone qualified as a legal proxy, but sometimes even lesser noble houses without wealth took the role. Dever recalled that when his father was alive, a baron's family had managed Brent.
“I've prepared the ledgers. Tax collection lists, land use records, budget management—”
“I'm just here to rest.”
Dever cut the servant short and slung his rifle first.
Administrator Chef racked his brain. What kind of man was Duke Dever? Even in hazy recollection, those piercing eyes that saw through weaknesses stood out vividly.
But the duke he faced after years was a touch different from memory. His lines were bolder, shoulders broader, but the sharp edge to his presence had dulled.
“Guests will arrive for dinner, so prepare a meal and rooms.”
Right—that roguish swagger, like some wastrel.
“Bring anything that can get you drunk.”
With that, the duke seized the reins of the hunting horse the coachman had brought and vanished behind the castle in a flash.
As if to prove Administrator Chef's doubts, Dever started knocking back drinks from early evening and was already dead to the world by the time guests from Wayne arrived.
The ones who loved seeing him like this were Wayne's nobles, always scheming to wring favors from him. Arthur wasn't among the crowd.
“Let's get properly smashed for once!”
“To the victory!”
“Eternal glory to Nexus!”
It was a far cry from the princess's greenhouse garden affair—a total mess. Laughter from the men erupted alongside shattering plates throughout the chaotic banquet hall.
“Dever! Heard this place is a real hoot?!”
“Me too! Me tooo!”
The louts, long past reason, finally crossed the line with their questions.
Dever, slumped face-down on the table, slowly lifted his head. A glint sparked in his cold eyes.
“Who said that? That Brent's such a fun spot.”
Someone mumbled on.
“C'mon, Dever. *Hic*, you know we all know.”
“Let us have some fun.”
The slurring voices pestered him obnoxiously.
Dever flung open the banquet hall windows wide. To let the fierce wind sweep away the lingering booze haze. He slowly swept back his wind-tossed hair, revealing a smooth forehead.
“You want to go to the protected zone?”
His upturned lips bared sharp canines that gleamed.
“Yeah! Take us!”
“The lord himself has to show up at Brent's protected zone!”
Dever beckoned his attendant nearby.
“Fresh clothes.”
But his thoroughly plastered guests couldn't even tell if he was changing or stripping.
“If that's what my guests want, as the party host, I'd better oblige.”