CHAPTER 07
“I greet the light and sun of the Empire.”
“It’s been a while, Duke Obel. You’ve grown quite gaunt since I last saw you.”
Meanwhile, after a brief wait, Dante was finally granted an audience with the Emperor.
“You must’ve met with Duke Brimstone as well. I imagine he was just as shocked by your appearance.”
Brimstone of the Earth.
One of the Five Great Dukes who had formed contracts with the Divine Beasts of the land.
Before delving into the main topic, the Emperor brought up another matter.
“There’s been a lot of talk regarding the western border. I was deep in conversation with Duke Brimstone about it—sorry to have kept you waiting.”
“The west… You mean Pellig?” Dante’s expression turned curious.
He was reminded of the conversation he had just yesterday with Linaria.
“Father, there’s something I must tell you.”
“Go ahead.”
“Well… our forces are currently struggling in the West, aren’t they?”
Did his daughter already know this would happen?
She had pinpointed exactly how to sway the Emperor, who had taken a negative stance toward Obel.
“Yes. As you’ve probably heard, those barbarians keep provoking us. It’s a pity for Duke Brimstone’s son, who was dispatched to handle it.”
“Your Majesty,” Dante said firmly, deciding to trust his daughter’s words.
“I have a brilliant strategy to solve this problem.”
“Oh?” The Emperor’s eyes gleamed.
The Empire had faced numerous conflicts, large and small, while expanding its territory.
The western region was one of those trouble spots.
Invasions from foreign tribes were frequent, and though they were always repelled, it cost more than it gained.
Now Dante, once a famed general in his youth, claimed to have a solution.
The Emperor leaned in with interest.
Cough, cough.
Dante began to cough harshly. His pale complexion made him look pitiful.
The Emperor suppressed his impatience.
“Withdraw.”
“…What?”
After all that waiting, this was the answer he received?
“Do you realize what you’re saying? Hand over the western lands to the barbarians?”
He expected a strategy to crush the enemy in one strike. But instead, Dante said to retreat?
Maybe lying sick for so long had dulled his senses.
“Instead, withdraw to the north.”
“What’s in the north?”
“There’s a gorge. It’s an ideal spot for an ambush.”
“You don’t mean…”
The Emperor’s eyes narrowed.
“They’ve never truly defeated us before. If we retreat without resistance, they’ll surely chase us.”
A strategy to lure the enemy into a trap.
It was risky, but the Emperor couldn’t dismiss it outright.
“If it works, the demoralized barbarians won’t dare attack again.”
Assuming there truly was such a gorge…
“I’ve already confirmed its location.”
“Really?”
“Yes. The land was only recently annexed, so those of us in the capital wouldn’t know its geography well. I had it scouted to ensure a proper plan.”
“…”
After hearing Linaria’s insight, Dante had immediately sent men to survey the terrain.
“If Your Majesty still has doubts, I can contact Duke Brimstone’s son, who was appointed commander, and have him scout it personally.”
Dante was confident—too confident for the Emperor to ignore.
The Emperor’s resolve wavered.
All that remained was the official approval to proceed with the plan.
“Come to think of it, wasn’t the original reason I summoned you to discuss your daughter’s engagement?”
The Emperor finally recalled the main topic.
Thus, in a now-favorable atmosphere for Dante, the real discussion began.
As Dante’s audience dragged on, Linaria returned to the mansion first.
‘I wonder if Father is handling it well.’
She had passed valuable information to her father, hoping it would help.
Since she had openly challenged the pride of the Imperial family, backlash was inevitable.
Linaria couldn’t just sit and watch her father suffer because of her.
‘The real issue was whether Father would trust such an unbelievable claim.’
She had a plausible explanation prepared just in case.
But Dante never asked, so she eventually spoke first.
“Father, you must be curious where the information came from. If I may explain—”
“No need, Liri. I trust that you wouldn’t have told me if you weren’t sure.”
“…?”
“That’s more than enough. I’ll take care of the rest, so don’t worry.”
Her excuses became unnecessary.
Her father’s kind voice echoed in her mind.
‘I’ll ask him how it went once he returns.’
With that thought, she reached for the bell cord to change out of her torn dress.
But Anna didn’t come.
“Anna?”
She tugged the cord again, but there was no response.
This had never happened before.
Concerned, Linaria stepped out and asked a passing maid.
“Where’s Anna?”
“You mean the maid that’s always with you? How should I know?”
The mansion staff all favored Meril.
She alone communicated with the bedridden Duke, so naturally, she held the most influence.
And though Meril pretended to care for Linaria, she subtly isolated her.
The maid tried to brush her off with a vague answer.
But—
“Speak. Now.”
Instead of calmly accepting it as usual, Linaria gripped the maid’s arm tightly, her tone cold and commanding.
“U-uh…”
Frightened by this unfamiliar side of Linaria, the maid confessed what she had seen and heard.
Upon hearing it, Linaria’s face turned grim as she rushed away.
‘I’ve been far too naive.’
In this mansion, Anna was her only ally.
She had entered the household independently of Meril’s influence, staying solely to serve Linaria.
‘If I change, of course they’ll target those around me. I should’ve anticipated this.’
Linaria threw open Meril’s door.
Inside, Anna stood, her skirt hiked up to her calves.
“Lady Meril.”
“Oh my, you’ve returned earlier than expected, Young Lady.”
Meril smiled, a switch in her hand—stained with the blood she’d just drawn from Anna.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“This maid stepped out of line. I was correcting her behavior.”
“And what exactly did she do that justified you beating my maid without permission?”
“She gave you foolish ideas.”
“…”
“Celebrating your birthday, of all things? Outrageous. That day is your mother’s death anniversary.”
Meril raised the switch again.
Linaria stepped in front of her.
“Stop it, Madam.”
“You understand, don’t you? Celebrating the birthday of the girl who killed her mother in childbirth is an insult to the Duke.”
That was a lie.
“The Duke avoids you because you’re a bad child.”
“…Because I’m bad, Father doesn’t like me?”
“Yes. If you were good, he’d have recovered and come to see you.”
“….”
“He never misses your mother’s death anniversary. Why would he ignore you otherwise? It’s because you’re bad.”
“I’ll… become a good girl…”
Linaria had never been allowed into her father’s room.
All his messages came through Meril.
So if Meril fabricated something, Linaria had no choice but to believe it.
“You’re too soft-hearted for your own good, Young Lady.”
As Linaria refused to move, Meril sighed.
“By the way, you’ve just returned from the palace, haven’t you? How did the engagement talk go with the Crown Prince? Are we proceeding?”
“We’ve decided to call it off.”
“Useless half-wit.”
Meril’s voice was cold. Linaria turned pale.
“People call you that behind your back. Who would ever say otherwise? The Duke, who barely shows his face because of illness?”
“…”
“No. Only me—Meril—understands you.”
Meril was irritated that her carefully laid plans had been disturbed.
Someone—maybe the Duke or that maid—must have filled Linaria with foolish hopes.
She had to nip it in the bud if she wanted to continue manipulating Linaria.
“Go through with the engagement. That’s the only way you’ll stand tall against those who insult you.”
If she said it like a mother’s advice, Linaria would fall for it like always.
“Are you finished?” Linaria asked coldly.
Yes, just like that…
“I was waiting for you to finish because I have something to say.”
“…What is it?”
Something felt off.
Linaria wasn’t nodding obediently like she should have. She wasn’t acting like the girl Meril knew.
“I want you to leave this house.”
“What are you saying?”
“It’s simple. You’re fired.”
“You can’t fire me! I practically raised you like a mother and was your mother’s closest friend! This is outrageous!”
“As you said, you raised me like a mother.”
“That’s right! I don’t know who told you what, but—”
“But you’re not my real mother. So yes, ‘fired’ is the correct term.”
“…”
“Please leave this place. Now.”
