MCQN 12

Chapter 12

The Duke of Clarke snatched the necklace from the Marchioness Nayette’s daughter’s hand.

Their hands brushed for just a moment, and a deeper blush spread across the young lady’s cheeks.

‘Thank goodness. Looks like he recognized the necklace!’

Even the headmistress couldn’t defy the Duke’s command.

Thankfully, she stopped in her tracks, and the Duke of Clarke closed the distance between them.

He alternated glances between the necklace and me before finally dropping his gaze.

“You are… who?”

└[Didn’t Rose dye her hair red recently? He might’ve mistaken her for his daughter LOL]
└[Omg, genius take!]

‘…What?’

That… wasn’t part of the plan.

“Where did you say you were from?”
“From Zelton…”
“No, I mean how old are you again?”
“I’m five—no, wait, I mean…”
“Five years old, huh. Considering when she disappeared… the age lines up. And that necklace?”
“I just borrowed it for a bit, um…”
“Do you have any memories? About your mother, I mean.”
“No, but… that’s not the point!”

We were in the annex near the garden, reserved for visitors. A young man who seemed to be the Duke’s aide had sat me down and was firing off questions.

And just beyond the wall…

“Are we sure she didn’t approach the Duke with impure intentions?”
“Of course not! How could you say that!”

It sounded like the headmistress was under interrogation.

‘He must not have known he had a son if he’s mistaking me for a blood relative.’

A misunderstanding on top of another, spawning even more confusion.

“I told you, that necklace isn’t mine…”
“Yes. It belonged to your mother, didn’t it?”

No matter what I said, this man wouldn’t let me explain and interpreted everything as he pleased.

The Duke of Clarke sat across from me, examining the necklace with a complicated expression. It made sense that the head of the family should verify it himself in case it was a fake.

“Alright, take a deep breath and slowly try to recall your memories.”

└[Is this hypnosis therapy or what]

If this kept up, I might actually start believing I was the Duke’s daughter.

“I… I know where your son is!”

“Yes, you’re the Duke’s daughter… Wait, what?”

The aide finally shut up, and the Duke, who had been focused on the necklace, turned his attention to me.

“Did he tell you to say that?”

“Who?”

“The man who came with you.”

The guards standing behind the Duke adjusted their grips on their swords, ready to burst into the next room and deal with the headmistress.

‘Our headmistress might be petty, but she’s not a criminal!’

It was understandable that they wouldn’t trust a five-year-old who suddenly appeared claiming she knew the whereabouts of the Duke’s son. But the headmistress had nothing to do with this.

“The owner of that necklace… I was told she passed away.”

The Duke’s expression turned cold.

Having spent years reading Count Torto’s moods, my body instinctively reacted to an adult’s shifting expression.

I felt a hiccup coming, but I had to say what needed to be said.

“She had a son… A boy with the same red hair and gray eyes as you.”

“Your Grace…”

Even the aide, who had been piling up misunderstandings, seemed to finally grasp what I meant and looked toward the Duke.

“The headmistress doesn’t know anything. A friend asked me to come in their place.”

“A friend?”

“Your son.”

The Duke fell into thought, then turned back to me.

“You said you were from where again?”

“Zelton…”

“And your parents?”

“Uh… I don’t have any…”

“Really? So an orphan is claiming to be friends with my son.”

└[What’s with the Duke’s vibe? Creepy.]
└[Disqualified from being the father-in-law]
└[Come on, sir, not cool.]

Just moments ago, he’d seemed interested only because I might be his daughter. But now, the Duke of Clarke looked utterly indifferent.

Like he was staring at a worthless street urchin.

I had never met him as a commoner in my previous life, so I hadn’t expected this attitude.

With just the information I had, I could no longer judge what kind of person the Duke really was.

“Yes. This is definitely my necklace. A gift I gave to someone precious. So… she died, and supposedly left behind a son who looks like me?”

“Yes. That’s right.”

“And how am I supposed to believe you? You could have stolen this necklace from somewhere. And now that I look closely, that red hair isn’t even yours, is it? Looks like a poor imitation of mine.”

I guess the uneven dye job was noticeable up close.

He completely saw me as a scammer.

“…I didn’t come here expecting anything from you.”

Although I couldn’t say that avoiding Count Torto was part of the goal…

Judging by the atmosphere, if I asked for anything now, I’d be labeled a con artist.

At this point, even if I didn’t get anything in return, I wanted to at least fulfill the goal of finding a safe home for Leon.

“I was told the owner of that necklace was attacked. She hid her son before it happened.”

When I revealed that his lover had been murdered, his expression turned from indifferent to furious.

“If you’re lying to me… I won’t forgive you.”

“It’s true, please believe me. Your son wants to find the people who did this and make them pay.”

“So… where is he, then?”

He still didn’t seem to fully believe me, but it looked like he was willing to play along.

I let out a quiet sigh of relief.

“Before I tell you…”

As I didn’t get straight to the point, the Duke shot me another suspicious look.

But there was something I had to confirm first.

“I can only tell you if I know I can trust you. Will you protect him?”

The Duke hadn’t known he had a son. The only person he cared about was his lover.

Given how quickly his attitude shifted, I wasn’t sure how he’d treat Leon.

“Ha… Hahaha!”

The Duke threw his head back in laughter, then looked at me with sharp eyes.

“You’re quite the little provocateur, aren’t you? How cheeky.”

His gaze was definitely more intrigued than before—but whether that was a good thing or not, I couldn’t tell.

“If what you’re saying is true… then I swear I’ll rip apart every last person involved in her death and give that child the safest world possible.”

└[Sir, could you please mind your language around a kid?]
└[Yeah, this guy’s unhinged. He’s done.]
└[How are you gonna crash your son’s stock value like that, seriously — —]

Even the comment fairies weren’t happy with the Duke of Clarke.

‘Still… this is the best choice for Leon.’

I knew from before the regression that the Duke had kept his lover’s necklace for a long time.

A Duke bent on avenging his lover.
And a boy who wants justice for his mother.

With the same goal, the two were bound to meet.

“I have high expectations for you.”

The Emperor of Debeloa lounged lazily in his chair.

Before him stood the true main character of today’s knighting ceremony: Duke Myers Valent.

“I had to listen to days of whining from the old geezers just to elevate you to Duke. We almost had another war in the palace.”

“Did you now.”

“Yeah. Because of that attitude of yours.”

The Emperor gave a dry laugh at Valent’s detached demeanor.

Before the war had even ended, one of the few Duke houses in the Debeloa Empire had been destroyed for conspiring with a foreign nation.

While the rest of the nobility trembled in fear, desperate not to be next, the Emperor had filled the vacant seat with his loyal right-hand man—the commander of the imperial knights, a man who never cared about noble society.

There was major pushback. But the Emperor needed a high-ranking noble to strengthen the imperial faction.

“I have expectations, sure, but I’m also worried. People tremble just at the sight of you.”

A war hero—and the shadow of war.

To have achieved so much in battle also meant he had blood on his hands and bodies trampled under his feet.

Every time people saw the new Duke, they would remember both the Empire’s victory—and the long, painful war.

“So I’ve been thinking… how do I make you act more like a proper Duke?”

Anyone else might have been flattered, but Duke Valent only stood silently, listening.

He was good at standing tall through anything—but when it came to reading the room, he was worse than a child.

The Emperor knew he had to spoon-feed him like this.

“First of all, you—try softening that grim expression a bit.”