Episode 2 – The Only Duke in the Kingdom (Who Also Happens to Be Illegitimate)
After successfully completing a secret mission for the King of Morios, Duke Enoch Osmond finally returned to the
royal palace after more than two months away.
The atmosphere in the palace was tense.
Groups of nobles whispered to each other, pretending not to look at Enoch when he passed, only to sneak glances at
his back.
“Long time no see, Duke Osmond. Where have you been traveling this time?”
Unlike most nobles who only dared to look from afar, Marquis Clen and a few others actually came up to greet him.
“I toured the western continent for a bit.”
“Oh, I envy you. Two whole months of leisure travel.”
Normally, Enoch wouldn’t have bothered with small talk, but he needed to gauge how his recent actions had affected
the kingdom.
“By the way, Duke—have you heard the news?” Marquis Clen leaned in, lowering his voice.
“What news?”
“Grand Duke Gairan of the Cornell region was murdered by an unknown assailant five days ago.”
“Oh? Is that so?”
Enoch raised his brows like he was surprised—but of course, he wasn’t.
He was the one who’d killed the Grand Duke, under royal orders.
“And to make things worse, Philip Brandon, the Duke of Brandon, has been killed in battle.”
“What did you just say? Who died?”
Unlike Gairan’s death, this one really caught him off guard. He hadn’t seen it coming.
Apparently satisfied with Enoch’s reaction, Clen’s face brightened.
“The Morrison tribes crossed the border again. The King sent Duke Brandon to lead the charge, but… unfortunately,
he didn’t make it back.”
“When?” Enoch’s voice dropped low, heavy with something close to grief and anger.
“Fell in battle about fifteen days ago. The funeral was ten days ago. I heard you two were close since childhood?”
“Yes.”
His answer was flat, but his face was tight with emotion. Clen didn’t notice and kept running his mouth.
“With Grand Duke Gairan and Duke Brandon gone, you’re now the only duke in the entire kingdom.”
“Please take good care of us, Duke Osmond.”
They all smiled ingratiatingly, pressing invitations at him hunting parties balls, but but before they could finish, Enoch
walked off without a word.
When he was gone, their smiles turned to scowls.
“An illegitimate son acting like he’s better than us…”
“If the old duke and his heir hadn’t died on the same day, he’d never have gotten that title.”
“No wonder there are rumors he killed them both.”
“Shh! The palace has ears. Watch what you say.”
Marquis Clen warned them sharply, reminding them that no matter his origins, Enoch was now the kingdom’s only
duke, and not someone to offend.
Enoch requested a private audience with the King.
The young King of Morios greeted him with an exaggerated, almost playful welcome.
“My loyal Duke Osmond! The only friend I truly trust. Come in!”
“Your Majesty, the shining sun of Morios.”
“Skip the formalities, Enoch! You pulled out a rotten tooth for me; now name your reward.”
Enoch stood expressionless, looking as sharp and composed as ever red hair like fire, unreadable green eyes, and a
lean body shaped by years of training.
The king chuckled.
“So my uncle planned his rebellion for nothing and ended by your hand. Foolish man.”
“Then, Enoch, name what you want. Anything.”
“Allow me to leave for Brandon territory immediately.”
“What?” The king frowned, clearly not expecting that.
“I thought you’d ask for new lands, or for me to deal with the old duchess, or even marry my sister to strengthen
your claim, but this?”
“Philip… was my only friend.”
For a moment, the king’s teasing eased.
“What happened?”
“The Morrison tribes were stronger than expected. They won the final battle, but… an arrow got him at the end.”
The king sighed, leaning back.
“That’s really all you want? You risk your life over and over, and you don’t even want anything for yourself?”
“When you’re born illegitimate, you spend your whole life proving your bloodline’s not a lie.”
The king cursed the old duchess for still treating him like a bastard, but Enoch just smiled faintly.
Finally, the king shoved a document toward him.
“What’s this?”
“An official decree granting you the Cornell region, formerly Gairan’s domain.”
Enoch looked stunned.
“It’s far from your current lands, but I know you can handle both. Besides, the place is still crawling with rebels from
the old Cornell Kingdom. I trust you to bring them under full control.”
Enoch stayed silent, realizing this wasn’t a spur-of-the-moment decision.
The king’s eyes gleamed playfully again.
“Enoch, still no interest in my sister? She’ll be sixteen soon, the perfect age.”
“…The princess is still a child.”
“She’ll be of age in two years. And… could it be you’re refusing because of Irene Brandon?”
Enoch’s eyes flicked up sharply.
The king smirked.
“Think about it who would be the most useful ally to you as the new lord of Cornell? The former duke’s widow, Irene
Brandon, daughter of the fallen Cornell royal family.”
Enoch left the palace and rode for a full day to the Brandon estate, the King’s words still gnawing at him—and making
him sick with disgust.
“What does he expect me to do with my best friend’s widow, just ten days after the funeral?”
The King had just smiled slyly.
“They say strong denial means strong feelings. Ten years you’ve been holding it in, right? Marry her, and the people
of Cornell will accept you faster.”
By the time Enoch reached the Brandon estate, his expression was tight.
A servant rushed to announce him to the lady of the house, and Enoch let his face smooth back to its usual unreadable calm.
While waiting, he noticed a woman standing midway up the grand staircase, her back to him.
She wasn’t tall like Irene her brown hair fell down her back, her small frame perfectly straight and graceful as she
stared up at a painting.
He followed her gaze. Philip’s portrait—laughing, handsome.
‘No way…’
It reminded him of a girl he’d once known poised and elegant in exactly the same way.
“…Nora?”
The woman turned, brown eyes wide with surprise. She didn’t seem to recognize him only curious.
“Enoch? Is it really you?”
The familiar, beautiful voice came from above—he looked up to see Irene, glowing even in black mourning clothes,
eyes brimming with tears.
“Yes, it’s me, Irene. Sorry I’m late.”
“Do you know how scared I was?”
She rushed down the stairs and straight into his arms, sobbing.
Over her head, Enoch caught sight of Nora quietly trying to slip away upstairs. Irene noticed too, and her voice
turned sharp.
“Nora, what are you doing here?”
“I heard you weren’t eating, so I was worried…”
“How could I eat when the man I loved is gone?”
Her tone was edged with irritation. Enoch looked down at her.
“When’s the last time you had a proper meal?”
“A week ago… maybe ten days?”
He sighed and squeezed her hand.
“I haven’t eaten since I heard the news either. Let’s eat together and then I’ll pay my respects to Philip.”
Irene nodded tearfully and leaned into him again, but even as he held her, Enoch’s eyes followed Nora.
She met his gaze briefly, gave a polite little nod, and quickly left.
She still looked at him like he was a stranger and for some reason, that made his brow furrow.
