Chapter 17
Valerie sat with her daughter Eloise tightly tucked at her side, fanning her flushed face repeatedly.
Emma, Countess of Laurent and wife of Dominic, also occupied a seat.
She had always been in poor health and, even yesterday, hadn’t so much as shown her face in the Grand Duke’s bedroom, using exhaustion as an excuse the moment they arrived.
Though Richard, son of the Laurent couple, was not yet legally an adult and thus unqualified to be present, he sat proudly between his parents.
That was because his father Dominic insisted he be let into the office on the grounds that he was the heir to the household.
Fabian leaned against one wall, watching as the relatives all settled into their chairs.
Everyone—except Eloise—looked somehow uneasy.
“It was a mistake to let that brat attend the academy in the first place. I thought he’d never come back…”
Dominic muttered to himself.
His eyes were on his wife, Emma, but she wasn’t listening, so it was practically just him talking to himself.
Ten years ago, when Fabian had been exiled to the academy without being properly acknowledged as part of the Laurent family, there hadn’t been any problems.
But everything changed when he returned after graduation.
The strict grandfather who had once scolded Fabian and cast him out of the capital was gone, replaced by an old man secretly pleased with anything his grandson did.
The other relatives knew it too.
That was why they were all on edge.
They were anxious because no one knew what the new will would contain.
Fabian glanced toward the lawyer.
The family attorney had even brought a constable, who now stood waiting outside the office. Despite that, the lawyer himself seemed far from composed.
Which only heightened everyone’s unease.
Soon, the lawyer pulled out an envelope from his briefcase.
He confirmed that the wax seal was the late Grand Duke’s and that the envelope had never been opened.
Then, he began to read the will aloud.
“I, Frederick Laurent, the 17th Grand Duke of Laurent, declare this to be my final will and testament. All prior documents are hereby rendered void, and the execution of this document shall…”
The lawyer’s clear voice echoed through the office.
The members of the Laurent family stared holes into the paper he held, their faces taut with anxiety.
No one looked bored or confused, even as legal jargon rained down upon them.
Then, the reading reached the part everyone had been waiting for.
“…The position of the 18th Grand Duke shall be passed to Fabian, son of my eldest son, Xavier.”
“What?!”
Dominic leapt to his feet, howling.
And with good reason—his name had been listed as the heir in the previous will.
“This is invalid! Senile ramblings of an old man—”
“Silence. I haven’t finished yet.”
The lawyer cut him off and forced him back into his seat.
Dominic clamped his mouth shut, fuming.
“I’ll continue reading… It shall be passed to Fabian, on the condition that he marries within one year of this will being disclosed. The woman must be of noble birth. If this condition is not met, the position of Grand Duke shall instead go to my second son, Dominic.”
No one had expected that.
Dominic kicked over his chair and glared daggers at Fabian.
His face had turned crimson, veins bulging in his neck.
“You filth! What did you do to Father? With that cursed blood of yours, you dare lay claim to the Grand Duke’s seat and even pursue a noblewoman?”
The lawyer, already expecting this reaction, warned Dominic in a weary tone.
“Count Laurent, if you stand up again, I’ll have to call the constable waiting outside. Please sit quietly if you wish to hear the rest.”
But the warning fell on deaf ears.
Before anyone could react, Dominic threw a punch at Fabian.
Fabian narrowly dodged it.
The massive fist grazed his hair and crashed into the furniture behind him.
Crash! A hole was punched into the antique piece.
“You rat bastard!”
Having struck only the furniture, Dominic turned around, shaking his bloodied fist.
Richard wasn’t even trying to stop his father—instead, he stood a few steps away, laughing aloud.
Eloise had been quietly watching the scene. Now she smiled faintly and spoke.
“I have a great idea. Everything would be solved if you married me, Brother Fabian.”
“W-What are you saying, Eloise?!”
Valerie raised her voice this time.
“I have no intention of marrying you off to that half-blood! You’re cousins, for heaven’s sake!”
“But Mother,” Eloise said sweetly, “Cousin marriages aren’t that uncommon among nobles. Besides, is there any position more suitable for me than Grand Duchess?”
She flashed Fabian a flirtatious smile.
“As the only daughter of a marquis, I’m perfect for the role. And then, the marquisate’s grandson will inherit the Grand Duchy.”
Valerie seemed momentarily speechless. Her rage quickly redirected toward Fabian.
“Nephew, you’d better watch your back. You think I’d just sit quietly and let that happen?”
“Of course, Aunt Valerie. But I doubt it’ll come to that.”
The one who answered wasn’t Fabian, but Richard.
He sat arrogantly with one leg crossed over the other, arm draped lazily over the chairback.
“As long as Fabian doesn’t get married within the year, he loses, right? What self-respecting noblewoman would even consider marrying the child of a witch?”
A sneer twisted his face.
Eloise turned sharply to glare at him.
“Did you just imply I’m not in my right mind, Richard?”
“Hah! So you were serious? Planning to drag not only the Laurent family but also the Konrad bloodline through the mud?”
The Grand Duke’s office quickly descended into chaos, with elegant insults and threats flying across the room.
Fabian rubbed his forehead.
He hadn’t expected his grandfather’s will to cause this much disruption—he hadn’t even heard the whole thing yet.
“Well, I suppose we’ve heard the most important part. Please send me a copy of the will later so I can read the rest at my leisure,”
he told the lawyer and walked out of the office.
“All in just three years…”
Fabian had lived with his grandfather at the Grand Duke’s estate for only three years.
Yet those three years had changed the stubborn old man—enough to write a new will.
He had been planning to claim the position of Grand Duke by force anyway.
“But marriage, huh.”
Fabian let out a low scoff.
The condition to marry a noblewoman…
His lineage was Fabian’s one fatal flaw.
His father had been the Grand Duke’s eldest son, but his mother wasn’t even a common noble. She had no family name—she wasn’t even an ordinary commoner.
She had been what most people called a witch.
Witches who disturbed good people’s hearts with sinister magic were to be immediately executed by law.
In other words, burned at the stake.
Not a single noble would want to marry off their daughter to a man with witch’s blood.
That was precisely why the Grand Duke had added the condition in his will.
He wanted his flawed grandson to strengthen his claim to the title by marrying into a powerful family.
Fabian dragged a hand down his face.
“First, I need to find someone—anyone—to marry.”
For once, an opportunity had come that didn’t require bloodshed.
Of course, marrying his cousin wasn’t even a consideration.
Just thinking of Eloise made him feel uneasy.
She clung to him excessively while subtly looking down on him.
Her mother, Valerie, didn’t even bother to hide her disdain.
If he married Eloise, the mother and daughter would surely gang up and try to control him.
“I won’t be that easy to manipulate, but avoiding trouble from the start is best.”
Lost in thought, Fabian paused and realized he was standing before a portrait of the Grand Duke.
It depicted the Grand Duke in his younger days.
Beside it hung portraits of his brothers—all of whom the Grand Duke had killed to claim his title.
Frederick had blood on his hands to ascend, too.
“So now he wants me to just get married peacefully and pass things on.”
Guessing his grandfather’s obvious intention, Fabian smirked.
“Sorry, Grand Duke. But I have no intention of honoring your wishes.”
He wanted to become Grand Duke—but not to carry on the family legacy.
He wanted to disgrace the Laurent name.
Defile that precious noble bloodline.
Fabian stood before the portrait a moment longer, gave a slight nod, and returned to his study.
Soon, Portus appeared.
“You summoned me?”
“Grandfather wants me to take the Grand Duke’s seat,”
Fabian said bluntly.
Portus gasped.
He had a general idea of what the previous will had said.
After a brief silence, he nodded.
“As it should be. Count Dominic is far too hotheaded and dull—he’s no fit leader.”
“There’s a condition.”
“What is it?”
“I must marry a noblewoman within the year.”
Portus quickly grasped the Grand Duke’s intent.
A faint smile appeared on his lips.
“How amusing. He’s outplayed you.”
