Chapter – 77
Alicia was genuinely impressed.
So impressed, in fact, that her real thoughts slipped out of her mouth without her realizing it.
‘How can a man look like that?’
Without even knowing what she had said, Alicia stared at Carlisle’s face, wholly absorbed in admiring his beauty.
Pale golden hair that was nearly silver, a sharp and well-defined nose, lips as red as if stained with wine, porcelain-white skin, and those mysterious violet eyes.
Alicia was instantly captivated by Carlisle’s appearance at a single glance.
Of course, it was nothing more than pure admiration for his looks—but still.
And then she realized.
The young man who had been hiding under a deeply pulled-down hood was none other than that infamous Northern scoundrel…
“So you’re him?”
“Yeah, I’m him.”
“You’re just as handsome as the rumors said.”
“Uh… yeah.”
“……”
When Carlisle turned his gaze toward the window, Alicia raised her voice.
“Hey, are you ignoring me right now?”
“When did I ignore you.”
“I’m talking to you. Why are you turning your head away?”
“Because I don’t have anything to say.”
“You don’t have anything to say?”
“Strangers don’t have to make conversation. We exchanged names, that’s enough.”
“Well… that’s true.”
Alicia frowned.
Carlisle looked out the window as if he had no interest in her whatsoever.
And in truth, Carlisle didn’t have even the slightest bit of interest in Alicia.
How many fallen soldiers are there…?
Seeing officers in black uniforms here and there, each accompanied by soldiers, he could roughly gauge how many Decaron troops had died.
The Black Officers.
That was what they called the officers who delivered news of a soldier’s death to the bereaved families.
For them to walk openly through the streets like this meant the casualties were beyond imagination.
Normally, Black Officers were supposed to move discreetly, staying out of public sight.
Their presence alone symbolized someone’s death… someone’s sacrifice.
“Maranello.”
“Yes, Young Master.”
“Why have the casualties increased so much recently?”
“It’s unfortunate… but what could this old man know?”
“You really don’t know?”
“It has been over ten years since I shut my eyes and ears to military affairs.”
“Hm.”
“If you truly wish to know, you should ask His Grace the Grand Duke directly.”
“……”
As Maranello said, asking Grand Duke Guntram was the most certain way.
Carlisle normally avoided lengthy conversations with Guntram, but this time he had little choice.
“I’m getting hungry. When we arrive, prepare food first.”
“Yes, Young Master.”
“What about Evangelin?”
“She should be studying.”
“Is she studying well?”
“She studies harder than anyone.”
“That’s good.”
Alicia, who had been silently listening, finally opened her mouth.
“Wow, I’m basically invisible here.”
“……?”
“I get that I’m from a hostile family, but isn’t this too much for someone who came as part of a diplomatic delegation?”
“What’s that got to do with me?”
“What…?”
“Diplomatic matters are for the family to handle. Not my business.”
“You’re a Sigmund, aren’t you?”
“I could be. Or not.”
“Is that even an answer?”
Alicia spoke as if dumbfounded.
Someone of Sigmund blood talking about his own family like it had nothing to do with him.
“If you knew me, you’d know I’m the son they threw away.”
“Well… that’s true.”
“So adjust your expectations. Don’t expect some fancy welcome from a scumbag like me.”
“Then what about just person-to-person?”
“Person-to-person?”
“You’re supposed to be a lecher, right? Rumor says you drool over any pretty woman you see.”
“I quit that.”
“…….”
His ridiculous reply left Alicia speechless once again.
Was that really something one could just quit?
With that, their conversation ended, and no further words were exchanged.
Carlisle didn’t speak to Alicia because he had no interest in her to begin with, and Alicia refused to speak further because her pride had been hurt.
“It wasn’t a long journey, but you must be tired.”
“Not at all.”
Thankfully, Maranello—acting as Sigmund’s chief butler—did his best to converse politely with Alicia.
The carriage came to a stop.
“I’m going to see Father first. Make sure the food is ready.”
“Yes, Young Master.”
The moment they arrived at the castle, Carlisle got off the carriage and went straight to meet Grand Duke Guntram.
“What the hell. He’s so annoying.”
Alicia growled, glaring at Carlisle’s back with clear displeasure.
Even if he was the disowned son, leaving without a single greeting upon arrival—where had he learned such manners?
“I’m sure you understand, my lady.”
Maranello gave a troubled smile to console her.
“No wonder they call him a scoundrel.”
“Haha…”
“Was he always this rude—no, this uncivilized?”
“He is simply… indifferent to those around him. If I may clarify in case of misunderstanding—he did not ignore you on purpose.”
“Hmph.”
Despite Maranello’s reassurance, Alicia remained irritated.
So he thinks being handsome is enough? Who does he think he is to ignore people?
Not once in her life had Alicia been treated coldly by a man.
Yes, her noble birth played a part, but she was also a great beauty.
People always tried to win her favor, and even those uninterested in her romantically still treated her kindly.
And Alicia was used to that treatment.
But to be completely ignored by that Northern scoundrel?
What, does he think I’m ugly?
Self-doubt briefly struck her. She glanced at her reflection in the carriage window and even brushed her hair.
The only reason she thought this was because Carlisle was infamous for his womanizing.
For someone rumored to be hornier than a mutt in heat to ignore a beautiful woman right in front of him—it simply didn’t make sense.
No, it’s probably because of last time. He’s keeping distance. Even a scoundrel has basic survival instincts. He almost got beheaded, after all.
Alicia recalled how the Lorne family had framed Carlisle.
Of course, the Lorne family would never officially admit it.
But it was practically an open secret—it had been their doing.
Even the royal family had sent a letter telling them to “tone it down.”
Then I guess it makes sense he’d avoid me. Otherwise, no way a woman-crazy idiot would ignore me.
Having reached her own conclusion, Alicia felt a little better.
“This way, my lady.”
“Thank you, Sir Maranello.”
“I’m just a humble butler now, haha.”
Maranello let out a hearty laugh.
Carlisle headed straight for Grand Duke Guntram’s office after getting out of the carriage.
The Grand Duke handled administrative affairs in his office unless something urgent required his presence elsewhere, so meeting him was usually not difficult.
With a territory as large as Decaron, administrative work was endless.
“Your Grace, Young Master Carlisle requests an audience.”
“Send him in.”
As expected, the Grand Duke was buried in paperwork.
So swamped, in fact, that the stack of parchment documents on his desk made it look like he was drowning in them.
“You finally decided to show your face.”
Guntram didn’t even look up as he continued writing with his quill.
“Well, yes. It just sort of happened.”
“How have you been?”
“Terrible.”
Carlisle frowned as if the very idea of “well” was absurd.
“I’ve been doing terribly.”
“That’s good to hear.”
“……?”
“Because doing well on the battlefield would be abnormal.”
Carlisle nearly snapped.
Hearing that from the very man who had sent him to war made his blood boil.
“So, what wind blew you here today?”
“Maranello told me everything. You agreed to… make deals with me from now on.”
“Yes, I did.”
“Good. I like it.”
“Hm?”
“Forced obedience is stupid. It’s better to gain something from it.”
“……”
“If you hate the idea, I won’t engage. But at least now we can negotiate.”
“Very well. We’ll do it that way.”
Guntram nodded without stopping his quill.
“I have a question.”
“What is it.”
“It’s true, isn’t it? The number of casualties at the front has skyrocketed?”
“It’s true.”
“What’s the reason?”
Carlisle asked.
“Judging by the atmosphere, it feels worse than during a full-scale war.”
“The reason, huh.”
The Grand Duke’s quill came to a halt.
“What do you think it is?”
“I’m asking because I don’t know.”
“The majority of the recent casualties were serving in the Blood-soaked Lands.”
“So… because of the mana stones?”
“Yes.”
“There doesn’t seem to be any issue with the mining operations, though.”
“Production is not lacking.”
“Then did the royal family raise the tax rate?”
The Grand Duke nodded—his first time looking directly at Carlisle since the conversation began.
“Any idea why?”
“Publicly, they claim the demand for mana stones has surged—but who knows the truth.”
“Hm.”
“Thanks to that, the price of mana stones has skyrocketed. Decaron can endure for now, but the other territories are struggling.”
“I see.”
The increase in mana stone prices made sense, so Carlisle nodded.
Right. If the royal family demands more mana stones, the price will inevitably jump.
The royal family’s symbol was clairvoyance.
If a clairvoyant royal house was stockpiling mana stones, the price was guaranteed to soar.
The twelve other noble houses would all try to increase their own reserves, driving the price even higher.
But Carlisle knew too well that this was royal-engineered price manipulation.
The royal family often manipulated mana stone prices like this for enormous profit.
“Doesn’t it feel like retaliation?”
“You think it’s because of Evangelin.”
“Yes. Something like that.”
“At a time when a large-scale barbarian offensive is approaching, the royal family isn’t foolish enough to pressure House Sigmund. I understand why you’d think so, but would they really raise taxes over just one girl?”
“They absolutely would.”
“……”
Guntram fell silent.
Because he, too, knew how petty and spiteful the royal family could be.
“Nothing is confirmed yet. Don’t jump to conclusions.”
“Fine. I get it.”
Carlisle stood up.
“You’re leaving already?”
“I asked what I needed. You look busy.”
“……”
“I’ll go, then.”
Carlisle turned to leave.
“Oh, one more thing.”
He paused, remembering something.
“What is it.”
“Aren’t you angry?”
“Angry?”
“Soldiers are dying because the royal family raised the taxes. Doesn’t it make you angry?”
“Angry, hm…”
Guntram stamped a document, sealed it in a black envelope, and spoke.
“What do you think I’ve been doing this whole time?”
“How would I know.”
“I was writing letters of death notification—to the families of fallen soldiers.”
“……”
“You think all I feel is anger?”
In the Grand Duke’s eyes, countless emotions flickered all at once.
