Chapter 08
Sir Russell Crowe, whose hair had turned completely white, was the eldest and most senior member of the Elder Council. He had been a part of the council since even before Daphne was born.
Not only had he overseen the education of her elder brother Gregory, but also of Daphne herself. Back when the siblings’ grandfather held the position of Grand Duke, Russell had worked alongside him as his aide, faithfully serving the House of Steren for a long time.
His talents had once earned him an imperial appointment, educating the Emperor, princes, and princesses at the palace. But after the deaths of the Duke and Duchess of Steren, he gave up his position at the palace and returned to the Grand Duke’s estate.
Even now, when he attended academic conferences, he was held in reverence. In his youth, it was said he had a charisma strong enough to bring nobles to their knees—but these days, he was just another grumpy old man.
Russell had developed a rather wicked habit of teasing Daphne, who always listened to his nagging despite her obvious exasperation. Still, deep down, he felt both sympathy and pride for the young woman who had suddenly lost her family and was now managing vast lands and a noble title.
Russell held a deep affection for both Daphne and Dioana.
Having entered the Steren household as a young man himself, he had seen four heads of the family come and go. In a sense, he hoped Daphne could stabilize the House during this transitional period. And he believed she could do it.
He was the first to realize that Daphne was not just a typical noble lady—that she possessed something special.
When she first expressed her desire to travel and see the world, it was Russell who supported her.
When the Steren siblings lost their parents at age ten, it was Russell who became both father and mother to them.
In every way, Russell genuinely loved and remained loyal to the Steren family, and that loyalty would never change.
The most important thing for him was to fulfill the dying wish of his dear friend and former superior, Gerald Steren: to guide the children and grandchildren of the family until the House of Steren flourished once more. That meant protecting them, and protecting the House itself.
It was for this reason that Russell had returned to the Grand Duchy, despite the Emperor’s protests.
“If even you leave the Imperial Palace, I will have lost my only friend.”
“Please don’t say such things, Your Majesty. I have always been, and always will be, loyal to my lord. What the Empire needs now is not greater prosperity, but peace from within. To quell the turmoil caused by the Grand Duke’s absence, I must assist his successor.”
“You’re quite firm. Are you saying the new Grand Duchess is more important than this ailing old Emperor?”
“How could you say such a thing?”
“I’m only jesting. …Go on. I know very well that Steren needs you. You were only borrowed by the palace from the Steren family. Now, it’s time to return you.”
“You make it sound as if we’ll never see each other again.”
“Once you’re gone, this palace may no longer be peaceful. Though, I suppose it never truly was… Just make sure she doesn’t end up like me—surrounded by sycophants disguising themselves as loyalists, eyes wide open yet blind to what’s right and wrong.”
“Please don’t say that. You are the very sun of the great Manua Empire. All of its glory stems from Your Majesty.”
“And yet, I couldn’t even protect my own child. I just hope Daphne Steren doesn’t end up like me. That’s why I’m letting you go—to help her protect what’s precious. Because that can’t be done alone. I only realized the truth when it was far too late. If only I had listened to you sooner… Eden might still be alive.”
“…Your Majesty.”
“I’ve said too much. Go on now. I’m not feeling well, and I need to lie down. Once the family has stabilized a bit, I hope we can talk again before I pass.”
Of all the palace retainers, it was Russell whom the Emperor trusted and relied on most.
Though he often spoke harsh truths rather than pleasant words, he was the only one in the vast palace whose loyalty was unquestionable.
Three years had passed, and the Emperor’s condition had grown more severe. Even after countless doctors had examined him, not one had been able to diagnose his illness. With no cure in sight, it was clear the Emperor was suffering from something rare and deadly.
The Emperor himself likely understood: he would someday die lying in that very bed.
Now that the House of Steren seemed to be entering a period of stability, and Daphne and Dioana appeared to be adapting well to their new lives, Russell considered paying them a visit.
He decided to accept Daphne’s invitation—she had written asking for his advice—and also saw it as an opportunity to take a long-overdue vacation.
He had also heard the rumors: that they had captured a spy. But that was hardly a rare occurrence.
When Daphne first became Warden of the North, there had been no end to the spies infiltrating the Steren estate. Assassins whose allegiances were unclear, whether from foreign powers or within the Empire—how many of them had there been?
It had gotten so bad that Daphne had sent Dioana to the far south for months, just to keep her safe.
Even now, infiltration was not uncommon.
Just a few months ago, had they not executed someone suspected of being a spy?
Fed up, Daphne had ordered that any assassin found should be executed on the spot, and if anyone was merely suspected of being a spy, they were to be tortured before being brought to her.
This was the cold, unflinching Grand Duchess of the North—but this time, she was acting differently.
“Dio wants to keep Puppy by her side.”
“…What?”
“But Puppy’s a person. And a man, at that. Technically, a slave I happened to know from a while back.”
Russell blinked. What was she even saying?
Apparently, a slave Daphne had rescued during her travels had somehow managed to find his way here.
“And he came looking for me after three years—without even knowing my name or my family! Isn’t that suspicious? He could be working for someone. I was about to kill him, but Dio caught me in the act. So now he’s locked up. But Dio says she really likes him and begged me not to kill him. She wants to keep him around.”
Feeling a surge of irritation, Russell took a deep breath and tried to maintain a benevolent expression, turning inward for self-reflection.
Yes, yes… she’s at that age, full of passion. And in the past, Daphne had quite the liberal view of love. It’s touching she’s even trying to restrain herself now.
But of all people—why did it have to be some no-name drifter?
“…But the way he acts, he seems like a fallen noble from some foreign country. He won’t say anything, but his manners and speech are oddly refined.”
The hesitant, watchful expression on Daphne’s face reminded him of none other than Dioana.
“I’ll see him for myself.”
No amount of words could replace seeing things with one’s own eyes.
If Dioana liked him that much, he was likely very handsome. And Daphne was undeniably weak to good looks. It was possible this was a spy using his looks to manipulate them.
Of course, he might also just be an unlucky, wandering slave who happened to end up here.
But somehow, that seemed unlikely.
Still, the man clearly had a goal, and Russell was determined to discover what it was.
A large man stood quietly inside the cell, gazing nobly out the tiny barred window. His face wasn’t clearly visible.
But as if recognizing Daphne’s voice, the man slowly turned and approached the bars.
When his face, once shrouded in shadow, came into the candlelight, Russell froze on the spot.
“…But the way he acts, he seems like a fallen noble from some foreign country. He won’t say anything, but his manners and speech are oddly refined.”
Daphne’s words echoed in his ears.
A fallen noble? If only that were true…!
For a moment, Russell doubted his own eyes.
Was his eyesight failing with age? Did he need a new pair of glasses? Yes, at his age, that would be reasonable.
…Or had he finally gone senile? Was he seeing things? Had he lost his mind?
No. That can’t be. That person already passed away.
It made no sense. No ghost would be caught and mistaken for a spy.
Yes. It had to be someone else—someone who just looked similar.
…But wasn’t the resemblance far too uncanny?
And even stranger—why would he be here? And be called Puppy, of all things?
For an old man, this was a shock that threatened to knock him flat.
If he stayed in front of that ragged man any longer, he might have a heart attack from the stress.
He needed to return to the office—immediately.
Maybe it was just the poor lighting. Maybe I saw wrong…
