Chapter 87#

Chaise a la ReineChapter 87#

The old woman was too stunned to speak.

A seaman? The Navy? The boy, who had been eavesdropping, tilted his head in confusion. Perhaps it was viewed differently in the West, but in the capital, becoming a seaman was mostly something criminals who had committed minor crimes did to escape the law. The Navy was always short on volunteers, and often turned a blind eye to one’s past when recruiting.

‘Why do you think that way? Is there perhaps some trouble regarding your personal safety?’

‘No, please do not worry. It is nothing of the sort.’

‘Then why go down such a rough path? Do you have any idea what kind of place the Navy is? Rumor has it that half the crew are criminals in hiding. It is a little better than a prison.’

The old woman, clutching her chest, tried to dissuade him in earnest. He smiled awkwardly and shook his head.

‘I have little choice. It is one of the few jobs that does not require a letter of recommendation. And I hear the Navy has a solid non-commissioned officer system. If one performs well, it is even possible to rise to an officer’s rank.’

‘Then why not the Army instead?’

‘You know as well as I do, becoming an officer in the Army requires not only a recommendation from a powerful family, but also the money to purchase a commission. There is no place there for someone like me.’

No matter how she pleaded, it was no use. The man had clearly made up his mind. ‘However…,’ the old lady trailed off and began to sob again.

To her, this young man was the only blood left behind by her precious young lady. He was once of noble birth, destined to stand as an equal to any marquis, and now he had to go to a place infested with criminals in hopes of rising again. That she could do nothing but watch broke her heart.

‘Please, do not cry.’

As the old woman burst into tears, the embarrassed man leaned forward and gently took her hand. However, consoling her was no easy task.

‘My poor young master… our young master…’ M1Cg8i

Madam Bouteille lowered her head and gave in to quiet sobs. The man spoke her name.

‘Madame Bouteille.’

Even the DUke woUld come to know later on, bUt it waS a rare Stroke of fortUne to meet Someone who treated one the Same even after one’S family had fallen into rUin. PerhapS the man UnderStood thiS well himSelf, for the way he treated Madame BoUteille waS nothing like one woUld treat a former acqUaintance of Servant backgroUnd; rather, it waS with the UtmoSt care, aS if She were a reSpected elder of hiS own hoUSehold.

‘I do not want my last memory of you to be such a sorrowful one. Please dry your tears and bless me. I now stand before the only opportunity left to me. I know it will not be easy, but if I do not challenge it now, my life will remain forever as it is.’ X63fIF

After comforting her for some time, he finally spoke the words the Duke still remembered to this day, gentle in tone, but firm in resolve.

‘I would rather be a failure than a bystander. I will not accept my fate passively and do nothing.’

…To be frank, the memory had not left a particularly strong impression on the boy he had been. It had been an unusual and striking event, yes, but only that. A child not even ten years of age could not fully grasp the meaning behind such words. It was much later that he came to understand the weight they carried.

When he turned ten and returned to grow up in the main house of his family estate, he realized that he was not so different from that man after all. He only had a few more things left in his hands.

But despite being on far better terms, none of the people around him made the same effort as the man. What preoccupied them was not the future, but the past. They longed for it with nostalgic affection, but did nothing beyond that.

As he matured and came to know the world, the first thing he learned was disillusionment. Perhaps that was when the dim memory of that day began to take on new meaning. Curious to know what had become of the man, he looked into him and discovered that he was indeed living exactly as he had said he would.

“I would rather be a failure than a bystander. I will not accept my fate passively and do nothing….”

The Duke, recalling the old memory with a sense of longing, drew a platinum pocket watch from his coat. Several years later, when Madame Bouteille passed away, he had purchased the watch from her surviving family for a large sum. He had always intended to return it to the man one day, but the opportunity had not yet come.

“What are you doing sitting in the dark without lighting a lamp? Looking at that watch again?”

The calm reminiscence was broken by a woman’s voice that had approached at some point. Just from the sound of her voice, the Duke knew who had come to see him. She was one of the few people permitted to enter this room, even when he was present.

“When did you arrive?”

“Just now.”

The woman had the graceful stride of a cat despite wearing a robe that was ten paetas long. She casually replied while removing her rain-dampened cloak and laying it over the long bench. The attire revealed beneath the cloak was, as always, flawless and resplendent despite the dreary weather.

How was she able to ascend such narrow stairs in that robe without assistance? The Duke found himself wondering again.

Displeased with the gloomy mood of the room, she first approached a candlestick and lit it. Fetching a fresh candle from the tinderbox beside it, she kindled the flame and carried it to every holder in the room, setting the small, low-ceilinged chamber aglow.

“Where have you been on such a rainy day?”

“Where else?”

“Have you returned from an audience with our noble Grand Duchess?”

“I had the honor of calling upon our noble Grand Duchess and the ever-illustrious heir to the throne, who seems quite incapable of understanding human speech. Ah, truly. I find myself at a loss for words. Every time I see him, I feel it again. When that man ascends as Emperor, our empire’s future will be as bright as the sun.”

She turned her irrepressible frustration into humor, planting a quick kiss on the Duke’s cheek. Though the time between alighting from the carriage and entering the house was brief, her approaching lips still bore a faint trace of rain.

“Why were you summoned this time?”

It had only been a few weeks since she, who had dealt exclusively with Grand Duchess Alienor for years, had been introduced to the Duke of Fernand, a central figure in their plans. The timid young man, who had been unable to bring himself to strike at his cousin despite his mother’s relentless pressure, had undergone a staggering change of heart after a certain incident.

“Why do you think? These days, that walnut-sized head of his harbors but a single, tiresome obsession.”

It was clear Duke Fernand had been shaken by some deeply tragic and shocking personal experience. The fact that he had made a decision he would never have even imagined before proved it well enough.

But a wildcat’s cub could never become a lion. Even if he had resolved to become one, his nature would not change so easily.

“He still intends to bring harm upon Baron Amieux?”

“Most fervently. Ever since he witnessed what our Nightwing is capable of, his desire has only intensified. I daresay he believes our sole purpose is to rid him of his inconveniences.”

She pouted her pink lips as she sat beside him. The Duke of La Mer, who had been perched on the broad windowsill smoking a long-stemmed pipe, shifted over to make room and took a long draw.

“That fool.”

He exhaled a plume of smoke between crimson lips, his brows faintly furrowed.

Though still heir to the throne, his thinking was hopelessly shallow. Even if his alliance with a foreign intelligence organization was driven by ambition for the throne, to go so far as to urge them into carrying out a personal vendetta, only a true imbecile would make such a decision.

Even if it’s not, does that idiot don’t have a brain for trying to force someone to be wary of my weakness?

He was already someone who had to be watched with care, and yet he insisted on handing them the blade that could cut his own throat. Did that fool have no brain at all?

“He was incompetent to begin with. Even if he now carries a dagger in his heart, it does not mean he has suddenly become clever. He has just gone from being a dumb fool to a dangerous one.”

Perhaps caught between a greedy fool and a dangerous one, the woman had been through her share of trouble. She scowled as she stole the pipe from his hands and took a deep draw.

The way her ruby lips formed a perfect circle to draw the smoke was tantalizing. A tiny beauty mark at the corner of her mouth made the sensual motion all the more striking.

Any ordinary man would have been spellbound by the sight, but Duke La Mer had known her long enough to recognize it as no more than habit. He returned her smile with a wry one of his own and took back the pipe.

“Will the excuse you used last time not work again?”

“Ah, the Custodian of the Imperial Scepter? That actually made things worse. The moment I brought it up, he flew into a rage. He said there was no place at his coronation for such a vile creature, and he would rather seize the scepter with his own hands than suffer the humiliation of receiving it from him. Fortunately, the Grand Duchess has a better grasp of reason and is trying to rein him in, for now, at least.”

Madame Schuabel let out a deep sigh and shook her head.

It is so utterly tedious that I was tempted to simply let them have their way. But you are here, are you not? Had I done so, you would not have let the matter rest. Thus, I had no choice but to pay the Grand Duchess a visit and ensure she was properly chastened.”

“How?”

“Duke Fernand’s stubbornness is so extreme that even she seems a little shaken. I suppose guilt makes her want to pin the blame on someone else just to cover herself.”

A cold smirk curled across her face.

It had been the Grand Duchess who made the final decision regarding the death of Louise de Dumont. But the one who had maneuvered the situation so that such a decision became inevitable was none other than Madame Schuabel herself.