OFR 06

6. I Will Use the Ducal House as a Shield

“I know that Saluga has been facing minor problems lately. Not only are ships stranded at Ferro Island, but the Imperial Palace also seems to be nitpicking about every little thing. Seeing that, the nobles have begun testing the waters too. Father’s death was a huge blow.”

At Edna’s words, Katrina’s face grew somber. But she soon lifted her head and spoke firmly.

“Even so, that doesn’t mean you have to enter a marriage you don’t want. Neither Saluga nor Huitager has fallen that far yet.”

“Not yet, perhaps. But we can’t guarantee it’ll stay that way. Huitager has lost the great shelter that was my father. Without him, everyone will start looking down on us. Saluga needs a new shield. But Rodrik and Marian have no interest in Saluga. Even if they begin preparing now, both of them will take time.”

Katrina’s eyes narrowed.

“And you? Are you saying you’re ready, Edna? That you can lead Saluga and Huitager yourself?”

Edna shook her head.

“No, of course not. I only wish to buy us some time. I’m saying we must divert the Empire’s attention—buy enough time to prepare. And in the meantime, Duke Ian Lombardi will serve as Saluga’s temporary shield.”

“He’s barely keeping his own head above water,” Katrina said pessimistically.

“For now, yes. But with a bit of help from Huitager, things could change. He’s far more capable and prepared than either Marian or Rodrik. What he lacks, we can provide. He’s the Emperor’s illegitimate son, which means he has a claim to the throne. Why else would the Empress and the Crown Prince be so desperate and restless, despite the Emperor’s coldness toward him?”

“If you make one wrong move, it could be seen as treason. The reason Duke Ian has so few allies is because the Crown Prince and Empress still hold terrifying power. People fear even standing near him, lest they be branded guilty by association.”

“Investment is always risky, Mother. What did Saluga begin with? Pawnshops, cleaning, and fertilizer businesses—things everyone else shunned as filthy and dangerous. Yet those made Saluga what it is today. From where I stand, the Crown Prince is a hundred times more dangerous than Duke Ian. Behind that handsome, kind face of Rubens Tuberin lies a tyrant willing to do anything for power and gold. If we keep hiding and do nothing, we’ll all die by his hand eventually.”

It was a bold claim, but not a wrong one. Katrina pressed her fingers to her temples; it was still morning, and she was already exhausted.

“All right. What do you need me to do?”

At last, Katrina gave in, spreading her hands in resignation.

“First, I’ll need a few chests of gold coins.”

Edna arrived at the Lombardi ducal estate close to dawn. She stepped out of her carriage before the grand iron gates and immediately frowned.

This was an unannounced visit. She had wanted to see the Lombardi household in its natural state—to get an honest read of its condition. If she had announced her visit, they would’ve cleaned and dressed the place up, hiding the rot beneath.

“…But this is far worse than I expected.”

Standing before the gates, Edna crossed her arms. For a ducal estate, the sight was shameful. The once black and elegant gates were corroded, half-collapsed, and streaked with red rust. The metal ornaments had cracked or fallen off entirely, and the lower edges had corroded away into jagged ruin.

When Edna lightly tapped one side with her boot, a chunk of rusted iron broke off and clattered to the ground. The gate might as well not have existed. Even worse, there wasn’t a single guard in sight.

“No wonder he keeps getting hurt…”

She clicked her tongue. No matter how skilled a swordsman he was, how could he sleep at night when assassins came and went as they pleased? He must have been tormented constantly, unable to rest properly.

“My lady, please return to the carriage,” said Thomas, her escort, as he pushed the gate open. It wasn’t even locked; it creaked backward with a groan.

The wide road leading up to the mansion was overgrown with weeds. The trees that had once lined the path were either dead or wildly overgrown. The lawns were smothered in tall grass, and what had once been a large pond was now a muddy pit with dry reeds floating atop it.

Thomas scowled. It wasn’t his place to judge, but how dare a man living in such ruin propose to his lady? Could this Duke have targeted Lady Edna for her family’s wealth? That pretty face of his must have been his only asset.

He glanced back at the carriage—inside, several small chests glimmered with gold.

When Thomas had gone to deliver a morning report to the Countess, Katrina had summoned him into her chamber immediately.

“Take these, and accompany Edna to the Lombardi estate.”

Thomas had followed her pointing finger to the gold-filled chests, and when his eyes returned to her, she smiled slightly.

“From today, you will serve as Edna’s personal escort.”

“And what of you, my lady?” he asked, surprised.

It might sound arrogant, but there was no better escort in Saluga than him. Edna was precious, yes—but surely not more so than the acting head of the family.

“I’ll simply hire more guards. I appreciate your concern, but don’t overstep your bounds,” Katrina replied coolly, then pointed at the chests.

“There must be no accidents. Guard both the gold and Edna with your life. Huitager cannot afford another tragedy.”

“Cannot afford another tragedy.”

That phrase had echoed in Thomas’s ears ever since. No one in Saluga truly believed the late Count Huitager’s death was an accident. They simply kept quiet, afraid that speaking out might be seen as rebellion.

I’ll avenge him someday.

Thomas clenched his jaw and glanced toward Edna. She was inspecting the estate with a grave expression. The place was pitiful—unworthy of a duke, let alone a prince.

“There’s nothing worth saving here,” she muttered. “It’d be easier to start over entirely.”

As she climbed back into the carriage, Thomas shut the door behind her. They passed through the dilapidated gate and rolled up to the mansion’s front entrance without encountering a single guard. When the carriage finally stopped and the horses snorted, someone burst out of the front doors in a panic.

“Ah! You’ve come—without notice, I—well! Welcome, my lady! Hahaha, forgive the mess. Had we known you were coming, we’d have… well, I’m Henry Bern, second son of Count Bern.”

He laughed awkwardly, sweating nervously. If he’d known Edna was coming, he would have at least brewed proper tea or had the garden tidied.

“A pleasure, Sir Henry.”

Edna’s clear voice cut through his flustered babbling. She gestured to the carriage.

“Help Thomas carry those chests inside.”

Henry stumbled forward uncertainly. The mansion was every bit as shabby as he feared, and now he felt painfully self-conscious. When he stretched out his arms, Thomas dropped a chest onto them without mercy.

“Ugh!”

Henry barely managed to stifle a groan, biting his lip as his knees buckled. He shot Thomas a glare, only to find Edna watching him.

“It’s nothing, my lady,” he said quickly. “Allow me to escort you to His Grace’s office.”

Even as he spoke, he cast a sidelong look at Thomas—who was carrying three chests with ease. Henry was a bureaucrat, not a knight, but still, it stung his pride. What a poor impression to make on a potential future duchess.

“Has His Grace had breakfast yet?” Edna asked, glancing at a dusty wall clock.

“He prefers light meals in the morning. He’s already eaten and is in his office now.”

Edna nodded curtly and pressed forward. A few servants were bustling about, trying to tidy the mansion. Despite the disrepair, the effort was admirable—at least the place was clean. Then suddenly, Edna stopped and looked out a nearby window.

Thomas followed her gaze. The rumble of carriage wheels was approaching fast—toward the Lombardi estate.

Henry blinked in confusion at their sudden pause.

“Was anyone else expected today?” Edna asked.

“No, my lady. His schedule today only includes paperwork and personal training.”

No lands, no wealth, no allies—Edna’s frown deepened at the thought.

“Then what’s that?”

“What do you mean?” Henry looked out but saw nothing at first—until Edna pointed down the road toward the gate. A luxurious carriage was approaching.

“Oh dear… that’s from the Empress’s Palace.”

Edna’s face hardened.

“The Empress’s Palace?”

“Yes.”

The chest in Henry’s arms felt heavier by the second, but he bowed politely, waiting for her response.

“What business could they have here?”

She didn’t voice the rest—It’s not as if they’re on friendly terms.

Henry sighed. “Indeed, my lady. What business indeed.”

Then Edna turned sharply and pointed at a nearby door.

“Sir Henry, what room is that?”