Chapter – 07
During the time his older brother had held the title of Duke, Aiden had lived a life completely detached from power, politics, and such matters. There was no need to interfere, as Bradley had wisely guided the family.
But now, the situation had changed. As the head of the ducal house, Aiden could no longer ignore politics.
Through the investigations he had conducted over the past few days, Aiden discovered that Bradley had built a considerably antagonistic relationship with the current royal family. For a moment, he felt a pang of surprise.
But that feeling changed within days.
“Surprise? No, Bradley was right all along.”
In truth, the king Aiden had met did not possess the character suited to govern such a vast country. He was arrogant yet cowardly, obsessed with appearances while inwardly greedy and unscrupulous. Just a few hours of conversation had revealed all of these flaws—a remarkably sloppy man.
“Who knows what nonsense he’ll spout today to test me.”
He swallowed a sigh as he stepped through the door opened by the chamberlain. Not even the most tedious lectures of the old professor had stirred as much reluctance in him.
Three hours later, Aiden emerged from the audience chamber, his expression as blank as when he had entered.
The irritation swelling in his chest caused a slight tremor at the corner of his eye, though it was so subtle that neither the king nor anyone around could have noticed.
After politely refusing the chamberlain’s escort, Aiden strolled down the corridor, his hand sliding into the pocket of his deep green frock coat. He pulled out a pocket watch, noting that it was around six o’clock.
“The sun must be setting soon. I should move quickly.”
His destination was a café that had recently opened.
Although he had meant to go sooner, the deluge of duties that came with inheriting the title had prevented him from visiting until now. The building housing the café was likely one of the places his brother had visited on the day of his death.
Thinking of his destination, his steps quickened. He reached the exit and stretched his long legs forward—but then a voice from behind abruptly stopped him.
“Duke Hill.”
Startled by the unfamiliar address, Aiden slowly turned around.
A man stood there who bore a striking resemblance to the king he had just met. He had several attendants in tow, standing with his hands clasped behind his back, exuding a strong air of authority.
“…Your Highness, Crown Prince.”
Aiden knelt, bowing his head. A voice immediately fell from above.
“I was wondering when you’d come to pay your respects. Looks like I came to you first.”
“My apologies.”
“…Is that all you have to say?”
Of course, there was more Aiden could say.
Because he had suddenly inherited the title after his brother’s death, he had not held any public ceremonies regarding it.
It was customary for the king or crown prince to visit and pay respects at such an occasion, so Aiden’s failure to personally greet the crown prince up until now was not an issue.
Moreover, saying he had “come first” was misleading. To claim credit for a chance encounter—what kind of logic was that?
Aiden found it absurd.
Yet this was not the time to show any emotion. Not yet.
He lifted his gaze to meet the cold crimson eyes looking down at him.
“I should have visited sooner, but as you know, there was trouble in the family, and I was preoccupied. Please let me know a convenient time, and I will formally come to pay my respects.”
“So you’re different from your brother, huh? Seems you’re less stiff. I see. I’ll send someone over soon.”
The crown prince, Harold Martin Walter, turned on his heel, satisfied.
Aiden’s jaw clenched at the prince’s casual criticism of his late brother. Step by step, he kept his gaze fixed on Harold’s flowing golden hair as he walked away.
“Well, how have you been, Aiden? I couldn’t make it to Bradley’s funeral, you know. It was an important day…”
Mumbling awkwardly, one of the prince’s attendants, a middle-aged man, stayed behind to help Aiden rise. Still, his eyes followed the retreating crown prince and his entourage intently.
Aiden regarded the man’s behavior with mild curiosity and refused his apologies.
“It’s all right, Sir Porter. Your explanation in the letter was enough for me to understand the circumstances.”
“Oh, well, then I suppose you should call me Director now instead of Sir. A police bureau has been established to handle security, and I’ve been put in charge.”
Aiden could not immediately respond to this news.
It was certainly an achievement to lead a new institution… but the Porter family had a long military history.
This man before him, now approaching his late forties, would have been promoted to Brigadier General. Not a director of an ad hoc office.
He pushed the thought aside and quickly offered his congratulations.
“Congratulations. You’ve earned the trust of your superiors.”
Sir Porter gave a wry smile as if understanding the brief pause, then continued.
“Well, whether this is a good thing or a bad thing, I can’t tell. Even before officially taking the post, troublesome issues have cropped up. Aiden, do you happen to know Baron Sutton…?”
Aiden felt a bad premonition. Porter was rattling off unsolicited details, clearly intending to rely on Aiden’s help to resolve the awkwardness of his first post.
He had no time to assist anyone at the moment.
“Sir Porter, I’m sure your skills will see you through. I must take my leave now. Please give my regards to your wife.”
“Oh, I see. You’re busy. Go ahead.”
Aiden’s firm words left Porter with nothing more to say. He bowed politely and muttered under his breath as he watched Aiden’s departing figure.
“Always so blunt.”
It was an ordinary afternoon. Octavia, manning the café counter like any other day, leaned in to whisper to Brielle.
“‘Phantom Thief Rolling Pin’… don’t you think it’s a commoner boy?”
“Yeah.”
Octavia’s green eyes flickered slightly at the curt reply, and a displeased hum escaped her nose.
“Why isn’t Brielle Taylor picking apart the details this time? Something’s suspicious…”
Despite the jab, Brielle did not respond. Instead, he lifted his expressionless face and gestured toward the door.
“The suspicious one is you. Why does that prince come to our shop every single day?”
Thanks to the glass panel taking up a third of the door, there was no missing him. The twelfth prince of Berkshire Kingdom loitering outside, day after day—the same person who had treated Brielle like a rat on the café’s opening day.
Surprisingly, he had never missed a single visit since the café opened. The reason was obvious.
“Uh-huh. That’s because I come here every day.”
“Still suspicious. Why let him follow you? He’s supposed to be too pure-minded for you, right?”
Brielle’s precise observation left Octavia rolling her eyes before reluctantly getting up.
“I refused him too… but seeing his face makes my heart waver. Ugh. Anyway, I’ll tell him to go today.”
After a moment, Brielle moved toward the door and slightly cracked it open. Then the conversation between the two outside reached her ears.
“Your Highness. You should return now. I’m concerned that your health is at risk from waiting for me every day.”
“Oh, Miss Wood. Does that mean I’ve stirred a tiny ripple in your heart?”
…Could a ripple even form in the heart? Brielle tilted her head, intrigued by his unusual phrasing.
“Your Highness… I’ve told you many times, you are far too great a person for me.”
“You are the one who is too great. Haven’t I said it many times? You are my vast universe, my shining sun, the only goddess of my life. Can this really be my feeling alone?”
Hearing the prince’s fervent words, Brielle’s lips protruded in irritation. She suppressed the urge to intervene and returned to her counter.
Yet the twelfth prince’s intense words refused to leave her mind.
‘She said he’s a universe and a sun… there’s a sun in the universe, so shouldn’t only one term be used?’
The term ‘goddess’ also bothered her. As a prince of the Berkshire Kingdom, where the national religion was strong, to call her a goddess would have angered the royal parents if they had heard.
‘Do they always speak in such exaggerated classical literary metaphors in society?’
Brielle, misunderstanding this unknown world, was about to face yet another misunderstanding in a few hours.
