Sentence Negotiation (3)
“……”
“And there’s one more reason why I absolutely must interrogate them myself.”
“…What’s that?”
“Because the Lady Elenoa they kidnapped is my successor.”
“Suc…cessor? Ah!”
Dianne, the queen regent, realized what being Anies’s successor meant and stared at Elenoa in shock.
The other nobles reacted the same way, understanding that it signified Elenoa would become the next archbishop of the Vesta Temple—or perhaps even the next saintess.
“N-No way…”
“Lady Elenoa as the next saintess…?”
“How are all these unbelievable facts coming out one after another so suddenly…”
It was too sudden, too abrupt, an utterly implausible revelation—but since it came straight from the current saintess, Anies herself, no one could dismiss it as a lie or find grounds to argue back.
From the center of the chaotic council chamber, Anies gazed at the equally rattled Dianne amid the nobles and continued.
“At the very least, I believe you have no objections to us taking those two for interrogation now.”
“Urgh…”
They were the masterminds behind plotting to kidnap the next saintess—a crime of high treason.
Dianne, unable to find any more counterarguments, clenched her fists in frustration but could say nothing further.
“Then, the interrogation of these two criminals will be handled by the temple. Arden.”
“Yes.”
“Take them away.”
“Understood.”
At Anies’s command, Arden instructed one of his fellow holy knights, who dragged away the staggering Ashton and the unconscious Bark as they left the chamber.
“We thank Your Majesty for your generous concession.”
“……”
Dianne said nothing as she watched Anies bow her head politely in thanks.
Her face twisted like she’d bitten into a bug, unable to mask her displeasure, before she finally spoke.
“With both agenda items concluded, this court session is adjourned.”
Ignoring the nobles’ greetings, Dianne stormed out of the chamber without hiding her foul mood. Once she was gone, the atmosphere inside exploded into uproar.
The chaos stemmed from two sources: outrage over the embezzlement charges hanging over the entire Armitas ducal family being cleanly erased by Eunhyeon’s platinum coins; and shock at the archbishop of the Vesta Temple’s sudden intervention and her designation of Elenoa as the next saintess.
Beyond that, numerous nobles who had committed their own misdeeds feared imminent investigations would expose them, forcing them to cough up fines. A whirlwind of emotions churned the chamber into disarray.
“Can you stand?”
“Don’t treat me like an old man already. I’m still perfectly healthy.”
“About Ashton…”
“It’s done. I… have to let it go now. Will you be handling the interrogation at the temple?”
“Yes.”
“I see… Understood.”
Abros wore a complicated expression but accepted the inevitability with simple clarity.
If anything, he was barely holding onto his sanity at the thought that his own careless judgment had nearly ruined Elenoa’s life too.
“We’ll escort you straight back to the mansion.”
“Already acting like a son-in-law?”
“…That wasn’t my intention.”
Eunhyeon gave a wry smile as he met Abros’s piercing gaze.
“Right now, it’s the top priority for you, for Alex, and for Elenoa to reassure the duchess as soon as possible.”
“I appreciate the consideration.”
Abros nodded and slowly walked toward Elenoa with Alex.
In the noisy chamber, many nobles stole glances, gauging Abros’s actions.
“Father…”
Abros gazed calmly at Elenoa as she approached.
“The holy sword… It was a decision you made after careful thought, right?”
“Of course. I’ll explain everything once we’re home. You’ll understand—”
“That’s enough. It’s fine.”
Abros pulled Elenoa into a tight embrace and patted her back.
“You came back safe. I’m so glad you’re back unharmed. In the end, my foolish judgment nearly destroyed your life too. I’m sorry. Truly sorry.”
“Ah…”
Crushed in her father’s strong, warm arms, Elenoa felt tears well up unbidden.
A soft sigh escaped her as relief washed over her—all was truly resolved at last, her tension unraveling into quiet sobs. Soon, she hugged Abros back tightly and began to weep openly.
“Thank you. For bringing my daughter back.”
“I’ll take the thanks. But more importantly…”
Eunhyeon narrowed his eyes at Alex, who smiled in relief, and asked,
“We have a lot to talk about. I’ll visit the mansion soon.”
“Of course. We’ll welcome you grandly. Should I start calling you brother-in-law now?”
“Just call me by name, you punk. It’s giving me chills.”
Eunhyeon grimaced in response to Alex’s teasing.
“You’re back?”
“Hyeon! You’re home?!”
Illyana and Erin greeted Eunhyeon in unison as he entered the house.
They’d apparently been having dinner; he eyed the food on the table and asked tentatively,
“…Who made this?”
“Together.”
“Together?”
“Hehe, Illyana wanted to learn cooking, so I taught her!”
Erin beamed with joy at being able to teach and help someone she saw as on a whole other level.
Having lost her mother young and shouldered all the housework amid her father’s abuse, Erin took great pride in her cooking skills—honed through grit in that harsh environment—now proving useful to Illyana.
“Hmm…”
“G-Go on, try it.”
Eunhyeon chuckled at Illyana’s slightly tense offer of the stew she’d made. He grabbed a plate, spoon, and fork, sat down, ladled some stew into his bowl, tasted the broth, then chewed on the chunks, savoring it.
“Not bad.”
“…Really?”
“Yeah. It’s good. Seasoning’s not overpowering, and for a beginner, it’s pretty decent.”
“Hehe.”
Illyana nodded happily at his words.
After joining them late for dinner and finishing the dishes, Eunhyeon entered the bedroom and pulled the reclining Illyana into a tight hug, burying his face in her neck.
“Snnniff.”
“What’s this all of a sudden? Something happen?”
“Just… you smell good.”
Perplexed but amused by Eunhyeon’s tight embrace and sniffing, Illyana giggled and hugged him back.
“What did you talk about with the duke behind my back?”
“Hm? Oh, right.”
Caught off guard by the sudden question, Illyana recalled one conversation and spoke up.
“Nothing much. The duke just asked a favor.”
“A favor?”
“If Elenoa ever confessed to you, could you at least accept her?”
“…You knew? About Elenoa’s feelings?”
“I figured it out from how you call her ‘Elenoa’ instead of ‘Lady Elenoa.’ So it really happened, huh?”
Even though she’d half-expected it, Illyana’s face soured at her prediction coming true.
“I’ve known for a while. The way she looks at you is special. But she hadn’t fully realized her own feelings yet. I thought someday she might come to terms with it and confess. The duke probably thought the same, which is why he asked me ahead of time.”
“When did this happen?”
“Right after you restored the holy sword and collapsed. I laid you down and came out to the living room, and there they were—the duke, the vice duke, and Riod—having tea at the table. That’s when he asked.”
“…Are you okay with it? Another woman between us?”
“Now you ask? If I’d said no, were you planning to cut ties with Elenoa?”
“…No. I would’ve convinced you. Elenoa’s… my responsibility too.”
“That’s why I let it go. You bundle of responsibility. And my words played a part in your decision, right? That I’d forgive you if you came back safe, even with another woman in tow.”
“…Yeah.”
In truth, when torn between embracing or rejecting Elenoa, Eunhyeon had recalled Illyana’s words and compromised by accepting her.
Illyana chuckled wryly and pulled his upper body close.
“I don’t dislike Elenoa. Plus, her feelings for you aren’t about using you for gain—she just wants to repay your help and support you. I knew her affection was genuine. Even if she comes between us, I figured we could make it work somehow.”
“You… are an amazing woman.”
If another man came between him and Illyana, could Eunhyeon bear it?
He wasn’t sure. Even if Illyana desperately tried to convince him, he doubted he could accept it.
It was hypocritical trash-talk—fine for him to do, but not her—but that made Illyana’s mindset all the more extraordinary. She’d prepared her heart beforehand and accepted Abros’s request before he’d even acted.
“Lady Verdandi didn’t object?”
“She understood the situation.”
“Then I can’t complain either.”
At Illyana’s question about Verdandi’s stance, she gave a wry smile.
“Wedding’s turned into three of us, against my will.”
“That really was unexpected.”
Illyana giggled at his response.
“Oh, Illyana. There’s something I want to check.”
“Check? What?”
“Actually…”
Eunhyeon confessed to sleeping with Elenoa and how she’d gained the ability to perceive Verdandi afterward.
Her brow twitched at them having already been intimate, but the part about recognizing the goddess overshadowed it.
“So? You think sleeping with you is what let Elenoa perceive your goddess?”
“Just a hypothesis.”
“Hmm…”
Illyana pondered deeply, then sat up in bed and shed her negligee.
“Let’s test it right now, then.”
“How’s your body feeling?”
“No different from usual. I wasn’t tortured or anything—just worn out from fatigue.”
“Good to hear.”
Eunhyeon nodded and turned to Abros and Alex with a serious expression.
“Let’s get to the main point.”
“Mm.”
“First, about offering the holy sword to Queen Dianne.”
“Elenoa already told us. Quite the vicious ploy.”
“To think they’d come up with something like that…”
Eunhyeon had offered Durandal to Dianne for one simple reason: the sword’s nature.
As a sword with its own will, it chose its wielder itself.
Even if the ducal family presented it to the royal house, that didn’t mean Durandal would acknowledge Prince Demian as its master—a separate matter entirely.
To the royals stuck with a holy sword they couldn’t use, it would become nothing more than an ornate wall decoration, a flashy but utterly ordinary blade turned useless burden.
“Didn’t you consider the worst case, where the holy sword acknowledges Demian as its master?”
“That’s the absurd part. Even I’ve heard the rumors about that prince’s character, and I’m practically an outsider. Besides, if he were a capable heir who could properly lead the kingdom, you wouldn’t oppose him so fiercely or push the second prince, Evan, as the crown prince hopeful.”
Eunhyeon shrugged dismissively, as if it were needless worry.
“……”
“Picture this: They offer Durandal, Demian fails to gain its acknowledgment right in front of everyone, then Evan steps up, gets chosen as its true master, and they’re forced to hand it over.”
Just as Eunhyeon predicted, Demian wouldn’t earn the sword’s recognition.
Even if offered, once it proved unusable, it’d end up a discarded eyesore—obvious as day.
“But do you really think the queen would hand the sword back to the ducal family or Evan?”
Alex voiced the obvious counter, seeking Eunhyeon’s take.
“That’s up to you two to handle. I said it already—I don’t care who becomes its master, as long as it’s the one Durandal itself chooses. I have no complaints. Personally… I’m very curious about Prince Evan’s future moves.”
“Ha.”
Abros saw through Eunhyeon’s intent and let out a hollow laugh.
In essence, this was a test.
Deliberately handing the holy sword to the royal faction, waiting to see who would seize it and earn its approval.
It could be Evan, or Alex—the ducal heir right in front of him—or some entirely unexpected third party.
“I’d love to see my imagined scenario play out soon: Queen Dianne and her royalist nobles getting royally screwed.”
Alex couldn’t help but snort in disbelief at the satisfying mental image.