INWY~26

Chapter 26

“Thank you for inviting me.”

“Not at all. It is our honor to host His Grace the Grand Duke at our table.”

The lips, curved in a smooth arc, parted slightly. 

The wine slipped down his throat with practiced ease.

Mayor Lester of Florian and his wife, Bruwen, could not seem to stop stealing glances at the Grand Duke. 

They had only ever heard rumors, and now here he was in the flesh. 

His golden hair and eyes gleamed like sunlight itself, yet an unmistakable chill lingered around him. 

Even while he carried himself with perfect manners—polite, refined, the image of a gentleman—there was an overwhelming sense of majesty about him.

Faced with royalty, it was only natural for their bodies to stiffen. 

The mayor cleared his throat, trying to smooth over the cracks in his voice as he attempted some light conversation to ease the tension.

“I heard you arrived in Florian just yesterday afternoon. Did Your Grace happen to see the sea?”

“Yes. It was quite beautiful.”

Dante gave an easy smile and nodded.

“Ah, I am so glad to hear that the sea has pleased you. In truth, in all of Vermarc, only Florian and Sermar have a view of the ocean, which makes it all the more special!”

The mayor beamed with pride as Dante praised his hometown.

“This is actually my first time here,” Dante replied smoothly. “Unlike Sermar, it feels more quiet, more serene. I rather like that.”

“Indeed, indeed! You see, Florian is not a harbor for merchant ships or navy vessels. That keeps the place peaceful. Most of our people make their living from fishing or crafting.”

“I see.”

Dante feigned polite interest, then suddenly lifted the corner of his mouth. 

A place untouched by bustling trade or naval presence. 

A community sustaining itself through small exchanges and handicrafts.

That was precisely why he had chosen to build a resort here, to turn Florian into a haven of leisure. 

He had meant to raise the subject later. 

But now that the mayor himself had presented the opportunity…

Dante snorted quietly at the fortuitous turn and spoke.

“I understand my manager already briefed you, but let me repeat it myself. The resort should be completed by next month.”

“Ah, yes! I’ve heard, of course. The site is so vast—majestic even from afar. I’m truly looking forward to its opening.”

“I’ve also been told… that a few members of your citizens’ council oppose the project.”

As the mayor had earlier tried to lighten the atmosphere, Dante now returned the favor—with a sharper edge. 

Slicing into his steak, eyes glinting, he fixed Lester with an unblinking stare.

So he knew.

The mayor faltered, his gaze flitting nervously, before he admitted with a nod, “…Yes, that is true.”

“The construction only began after unanimous approval from the citizens’ council. Why the change of mind now?”

They had waited for agreement from all before breaking ground, just to avoid dissent.

Even if a few objections wouldn’t have mattered, it had been cleaner to push forward with no opposition. 

And now, after the fact, this? Infuriating.

Dante’s brow arched when Lester’s silence dragged on. 

The mayor exchanged a quick glance with Bruwen, then finally stammered, “…There was, ah, the election. The council elects its chair every three years.”

“You mean the chairman has changed.”

“Yes. The new chairman is a Mr. Miles, whose family has run an olive farm here for three generations.”

Three generations. 

Dante’s lips curved faintly in realization.

“So. He must be attached to this land. His opposition stems from that. Once the resort opens, outsiders will flood in from the capital and other cities. His quiet hometown will vanish.”

“Yes, exactly.”

At his words, Lester and Bruwen nodded quickly.

“And… I suppose Chairman Miles has been rallying the other council members?”

“…I am very sorry. I’ve met with them several times but…”

Ha. 

Dante let out a dry laugh, his expression twisting in irritation. 

Their resistance would hardly affect the business itself. 

Still, this was dangerous in the long run.

In a small, tightly knit town, if the council leader opposed something, the rest could hardly ignore it.

Dante tapped his fingers idly against the table, his lips curving with faint distaste. 

He let his gaze drift lazily over the nervous mayor and his wife.

“For now, let’s wait and see.”

The mayor lifted his head sharply.

“Wait—You mean, just leave it be?”

“Yes. There’s still a month until completion. Hopefully the matter dies down before then.”

“Ah, yes. I am so ashamed. I’ll do my best to persuade them within the month. Your Grace, if you could only—”

Dante silenced him with a sip of wine and a brief nod.

The farther one was from the capital, the tighter the community bonds. 

Florian was no exception. 

For them, it was about birthplace, family history, and peaceful lives passed down through generations. 

Insignificant things. 

But things that mattered to them.

The mayor and his wife were no different. They, too, cared for their community, yet lacked the strength to push back against it. In truth, with such gentle dispositions, they likely never pressed the issue hard. 

And had they tried, they would only have bred resentment. 

No, it was better to wait for the right moment.

The conversation shifted then to mundane, harmless topics—places worth visiting in Florian, anecdotes about the townsfolk, and the occasional question about the resort. Dante remained mostly a listener, nodding politely when needed.

At last, he glanced down at his wristwatch. The dinner had begun at seven. 

Now the hour hand pointed toward ten. 

Time to bring it to a close.

“Ah! I nearly forgot. I should have introduced my daughter to Your Grace. May I call her in now?”

Mayor Lester, having loosened up after much wine, laughed brightly.

Dante offered a gentle smile, setting down his glass and rising.

“Another time. It’s too late for a young lady’s introduction.”

“Ah, yes! Ha ha, I enjoyed myself so much I didn’t even notice the hour.”

The mayor laughed heartily, rising with his wife to see him out. 

At the door, Dante’s white car waited, his driver stepping forward to greet him.

“Dinner was enjoyable. I shall host you both in turn soon.”

At those words, Lester and Bruwen’s faces lit up in delight. They bowed low.

“Thank you, Your Grace! Safe travels.”

Dante inclined his head and slipped into the backseat. 

The mayor and his wife remained bent until the car drove off.

“The mayor and his wife seemed overjoyed to meet Your Grace,” the driver remarked softly, glancing at the rearview mirror.

“As well they should.”

Dante gave a perfunctory reply, turning his head toward the window.

He could not say the evening had yielded nothing, but it had hardly been satisfying. 

A waste of time, more or less.

Tsk. 

He clicked his tongue. 

The driver, catching the sound through the mirror, wisely focused on the road.

Such a fuss, over a seaside town with nothing to boast but the sea.

Dante’s eyes narrowed. 

Across the dimly lit beachfront, he caught sight of a shuttered café.

Closed at this hour. 

His gaze flicked to his watch, his brows tightening in irritation.

He had almost forgotten during dinner, but the thought returned now—and with it, her.

Riena Bronte had learned of her own funeral, yet hadn’t batted an eye. 

Fragile as she looked, there was a streak of steel in her. 

A streak she herself seemed unaware of.

She had trembled before him in fear, yet confessed to deceiving him. 

She had shamelessly begged him to overlook it. 

She had, with clear eyes, denied a crime she did not commit.

“Ha.”

Dante chuckled suddenly, making the driver flinch and nearly drop the wheel.

She hadn’t changed one bit. 

Not that it kept his anger at bay.

He stroked his chin with the hand resting on the window frame, his golden eyes lingering on the now-distant café.

So, what next?

The crisp sea breeze carried the faint trace of wine. 

Dante’s furrowed brow relaxed, smoothed into calm.

There was no need to rush. 

Time was on his side. 

But she had dared to defy him, and that debt would have to be paid.

The white car sped along the coastal road and soon pulled into the glowing resort, bright against the night sea like a lighthouse in the dark.