The dining hall, which should have been loud with the chatter of knights, was unusually silent. The moment Lukas stepped inside, he immediately understood why something felt off.
Adrienne, seated alone at the far end of the long dining table, rose to her feet the moment she saw him. Lukas’s expression turned cold as his sharp eyes shifted to Jeord, who had followed him in.
“There are many eyes in the castle. It’s possible the Crown Prince still has spies lurking.”
“And what? I’m supposed to dine with someone I have no feelings for just to put on a show for a spy?”
“She is now Your Grace’s wife.”
“Hmph. In name only.”
“Shall I cancel the meal, then?”
At Jeord’s shameless question, tossed out behind Lukas’s sarcastic remark, Lukas shot him a look of pure disbelief.
“I’ve assigned an additional servant to assist with your meals together. If the two of you are going to dine together regularly, this is something you’ll need to get used to.”
“I greet the Grand Duke.”
No sooner had Jeord finished speaking than Yuria stepped into the dining hall and bowed her head to Lukas as he took his seat.
“Spies, huh…”
Whether they belonged to Agmund or Tehevia, a spy was still a spy. Lukas let out a quiet laugh and turned his icy gaze toward the woman seated across from him.
Tehevia, unlike other kingdoms, was wealthy. And with that wealth, they had ceaselessly hired mercenaries from the eastern kingdoms of the continent. His father had once believed the war would end swiftly. He had been wrong. The war had dragged on—tedious and bloody.
Ten years.
For ten years, Lukas had fought almost daily in order to claim Tehevia. So many knights had died. The war, fueled by their blood and sacrifice, had finally ended after that long decade.
Only then—after all that bloodshed—did Adrienne’s father, Dephil Claudius, declare defeat.
After his loss, Dephil surrendered the gold mines and offered up countless slaves and regional specialties to the empire. Only after that did the Emperor Xerses accept Tehevia’s annexation.
Ah, yes. Among the things Dephil handed over… was her.
That mute girl now sitting demurely across from him, pretending to be shy.
Adrienne Claudius.
Skin pale as death, platinum-blonde hair that was almost silver—she was royalty to her bones.
Had Tehevia not lost the war, she likely would’ve been married off to a man of better standing than himself.
Or maybe not. Maybe she, too, was just another piece on a chessboard, moved without her say.
Even so, Lukas couldn’t let his guard down. He hadn’t been told the true reason why his father had chosen her as his match.
And with Dephil now stripped of his royal title and reduced to a duke under the Rodian Empire, how could anyone trust him? For all that he had lost, he still possessed considerable wealth and influence.
Who knew what schemes he might be cooking up for the future?
A gesture of peace? After ten years of war? Peace, my ass.
“I don’t like talking during meals. So leave.”
“But I…”
“Are you contradicting me right now?”
“N-No, of course not. I’ll take my leave then, Your Grace.”
Startled by the chill in his voice, Yuria glanced briefly at Adrienne before hurriedly scurrying out of the dining hall.
Only the occasional rustling of a maid coming and going broke the silence. Lukas had expected a rowdy dinner filled with drink and meaningless banter, like when he dined with his knights. But here, the silence was suffocating. He couldn’t even tell if the meat was going down his throat or getting stuck in his nose.
And the way the woman across from him picked at her food, clearly watching his every move—it grated on his nerves.
Slam!
Lukas slammed his utensils down and frowned in irritation.
Ding, ding, ding.
He rang the bell with sharp, impatient movements. A maid quickly rushed into the room.
“Yes, Your Grace?”
“Go fetch that girl. She’ll serve at the table.”
“…Pardon?”
The maid blinked, seemingly confused.
“Yuria. The Grand Duchess’s maid.”
“Understood.”
Once the maid finally realized what he meant, she turned and scurried out of the hall.
Lukas wiped his mouth with a napkin—more roughly than necessary—then stood up abruptly.
“Your Grace, are you finished already?”
“You should know by now—I hate discomfort.”
“Still, there are things one must endure…”
“Enough. Don’t arrange meals like this again.”
He threw the napkin aside and stormed past Jeord, his brow deeply furrowed.
[I shouldn’t have tried to do this, Yuria.]
“What do you mean, Your Grace? That’s not true at all.”
Yuria shook her head at Adrienne’s gloomy face.
“If anyone did something unnecessary, it was me. Not Your Grace. So please, don’t say such things.”
“See? Even the butler says the same thing I do.”
Yuria signed with a smile, translating Jeord’s words. Adrienne looked from Yuria to Jeord.
“His Grace is naturally cold and stern. So please don’t let today trouble you too much, Your Grace.”
[I understand. Thank you, Jeord.]
“Was that a thank-you, Your Grace?”
[Yes. That’s right.]
Adrienne nodded to show that Jeord had understood her correctly.
“I see. But there’s no need to thank me. I’m only doing my duty.”
[Still, I appreciate it.]
“As his servant, I simply hope the Grand Duke finds a place where he can rest.”
For the first time, the sharpness in Jeord’s eyes softened, revealing genuine concern. Adrienne quietly studied those brown eyes.
[Do you trust me?]
“She asked if you trust her.”
“No. I trust no one but His Grace. I merely worry for his well-being.”
[Thank you for being honest with me, Jeord.]
“She thanks you for your honesty.”
“You’re very welcome, Your Grace.”
At Yuria’s translation, Jeord’s lips curled into a faint, polite smile.
____________𔒝 ࿆ ꫂ ၴႅၴ __________
The Rantschka Fortress was constantly under threat of attack by barbarian tribes. The lord, Lukas, conducted daily inspections of the territory, and knights took turns patrolling the perimeter, day and night.
According to Jeord, the barbarians still believed that Lukas was trespassing on their ancestral lands.
In truth, Rantschka had been part of the Rodian Empire even before the Age of Dragons. When that era ended, the empire splintered into five kingdoms. Rantschka became the northern fortress of one of them—Frantz.
But over time, as the region remained isolated from the other territories, people stopped coming. Eventually, it was abandoned.
And so, the barbarians crossed the Lake Strait and claimed the empty fortress as their own.
But despite their claims, Rantschka remained, by law, Rodian territory.
With Tehevia’s fall marking the empire’s final unification, Emperor Xerses was eager to reclaim the fortress from barbarian hands.
And for that mission, he chose his third son—Lukas.
[Yuria, I think someone’s been injured.]
Adrienne stood by the corridor window, watching the torches being lit outside the castle, concern clouding her eyes.
“I’ve heard from the other maids—it happens often. The barbarians frequently raid the farmland.”
[I should go down there.]
Tap, tap.
“What are you going to do once you’re there?”
[I want to see if there’s anything I can help with…]
“There are already healers. And Tessa is with them.”
[Even so, I want to go.]
“Oh, for goodness’ sake…”
Grumbling under her breath, Yuria turned and followed Adrienne down the stairs.
Honestly, Yuria didn’t think all of Adrienne’s effort would suddenly make the Grand Duke like her. Still, she was at least glad he wasn’t in the fortress at the moment—he’d gone out earlier that afternoon to inspect the northwestern sector with the elite knights.
“Please go slowly! You’ll fall!”
Her warning, of course, couldn’t be heard, but that didn’t stop Yuria from yelling as she chased after Adrienne.
“Your Grace? What brings you here?”
Jeord, who had been crossing the hall, spotted Adrienne and looked startled.
“She wants to help tend to the wounded…”
“Your concern is appreciated, but the healers and Tessa are more than capable, Your Grace.”
[From upstairs, I saw that some of the injured looked like women and children.]
“She says she saw women and children among the wounded.”
Jeord frowned slightly at Yuria’s interpretation.
“Yes, sometimes the farmers’ families—women and children—get caught in the crossfire.”
[If you teach me the basics, I can help. It’s easier for women to treat other women.]
“She’d like to help treat the women, if that’s alright.”
“In that case, please follow me, Your Grace.”
At Yuria’s translation, Jeord gave Adrienne a small nod and gestured toward a room down the corridor.
