I Stole The Duke - Chapter 137

“Let’s end the operation meeting here. You may return to the Mage Tower now.”

“Your Grace… May I ask a personal favor?”

Just as Michalis rose from the sofa, Iadis hesitantly called out, holding him back.

“A favor?”

“Please allow me to attend the banquet in my original form.”

“……”

Michalis blinked, staring curiously at his aide’s completely out-of-the-blue request.

“As you know, I turn twenty-seven next year. If I don’t find someone to date before then, my father will force me into an arranged marriage with someone I’ve never even met.”

“……”

For a moment, Michalis was speechless.

This clueless idiot! How dare he say that in front of me—who actually married the woman my father chose…

“What’s so bad about an arranged marriage?”

“I hate it. How can I entrust my entire life to someone picked entirely by my father?”

Unlike Michalis—who’d once thrown a tantrum over his own arranged marriage and now conveniently forgot it—Iadis had always leaned toward the Southern belief in free will. At least a matchmaking meeting allowed for conversation; being married off like a business deal was something he deeply resented.

An arranged marriage isn’t so bad. Actually, it’s great…

Michalis’s inner contradictions remained conveniently buried.

“I see.”

Regardless, the Viscount of Concerto seemed quite determined to marry off his plain-faced son as soon as possible.

“Since becoming your aide, I haven’t had time for anything outside of work. The only banquet I’ve attended was the Crown Prince’s birthday. I even got dumped by my girlfriend because I couldn’t make time to see her…”

Iadis let out all the frustration he’d bottled up over the years. If Michalis had even a shred of conscience, he ought to feel at least some responsibility for his aide becoming a workaholic bachelor.

Was it really because he didn’t have time…?

Michalis had his doubts. Only the woman who dumped Iadis knew the truth.

“Alright. Go ahead.”

“Thank you, Your Grace!”

So, his liege did have a conscience after all.

“Imperial Dispel Magic.”

Michalis pulled a spell card from the inner pocket of his coat and recited the words. Luckily, he always kept one on hand just in case.

“Sir Iadis, how’s life at the Mage Tower treating you?”

He eyed the now untransformed Iadis, who looked far too well-rested—his once-permanent dark circles had completely vanished.

“It’s been good, Your Grace! Since it’s a special assignment you entrusted to me, I’ve been giving it my best.”

The magical terminology had been a bit difficult at first, but once Iadis pointed out inefficiencies and suggested improvements, the underlings took care of everything else. In short, Tower life was… easy.

“No one’s grown suspicious of your identity?”

“None at all.”

If anything, the mages were stressed to the bone by their meticulous and overly efficient “Master.”

“That’s a relief…”

This guy really isn’t cut out to be a knight.

As much as Iadis refused to admit it, Michalis saw it plainly: his aide was far more talented in administrative work than with a sword.

“I’ll head down first. Join the banquet hall once you’re ready.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

After escorting Michalis to the door, Iadis took off his mage’s robe, revealing a finely tailored formal suit underneath. The green-haired master’s wardrobe was ridiculously well-stocked—almost like it had been waiting for this day.

Feels like it’s been ages since I’ve looked like myself.

Iadis hummed softly in front of the mirror, genuinely excited at the thought of enjoying the night with no duties, no cover identity—maybe even meeting someone special.

Meanwhile, on the terrace, one couple’s kiss had turned the cool night air into something smoldering.

“……”

Joel’s hand, which had gently cradled Riela’s cheek, slipped to her back. As he pulled her closer, their bodies met completely. The jacket he’d draped over her shoulders slid halfway off.

“Joel! That’s enough… Let’s stop here.”

The soft kiss at her neck startled Riela, and she pushed him away. If she didn’t stop this now, the intimate mood might carry them too far.

“As you wish.”

Joel ended the kiss with one last soft peck on her shoulder.

“I think we’ve rested enough… Shouldn’t we go back now?”

Trying to avoid the awkwardness, Riela quickly stood up from the bench.

“Still, I really don’t want to let you go.”

Joel rose as well and wrapped his arms around her tightly.

“Huh?”

“Once this engagement party ends… how long do we have to be apart again?”

“That’s…”

There was no set date for the wedding yet—only that it would be sometime next year. They’d barely met after three long months apart, and now there was no telling how many more times they could see each other before the big day.

“Six months? Or… maybe a year?”

Even if they rushed preparations and married in the spring, it would still be six months at best. And for the two of them, that kind of separation was nothing short of torture.

“I don’t want to say goodbye either…”

“Then let’s live together.”

“What?”

Just like the first day they met, Joel’s free-spirited nature struck Riela like a sudden thunderclap.

“We can live here at the Count’s estate, or if it’s too uncomfortable, I’ll get us our own house.”

“I… that’s….”

Riela couldn’t bring herself to respond. As much as they were engaged, cohabiting before marriage was something her father would never approve of.

“If it’s what you want, I’ll go ask for the Marquess’s permission myself.”

“…I want it.”

“Then shall we head back to the hall?”

As Joel gently took her hand and guided her off the terrace, their figures briefly reflected in a crystalline ice sculpture nearby.

That must be the Sea God statue… How absurdly wealthy is the Terius family?

Shainels, watching from inside the hall, was stunned by the grand ice sculpture that adorned the space. Despite the heat of the crowded room, it hadn’t melted even slightly. Clearly, it had been carved from rare Southern ice and preserved with a powerful enchantment.

“Your Highness, the man speaking with Count Terius is reportedly the Naval Commander of the Eastern Empire. Perhaps this would be a good opportunity to introduce yourself?”

This engagement celebration was far too extravagant—not only were the Empire’s most powerful figures in attendance, but even foreign dignitaries had come from abroad.

“Naval Commander, huh? That could be worthwhile.”

Shainels didn’t care for the overwhelming splendor of the event, but as a future ruler, he couldn’t deny its political value.

As he crossed the hall with the Marquess of Rancelloti, something—or rather, someone—stepped into their path.

“Where have you two been? Half the guests haven’t even greeted you yet.”

The Marquess gave a light scolding to the bride and groom, who had been conspicuously absent.

“I was feeling a bit drained, so I took a break. Father.”

“I have something to ask, Marquess.”

“I’m with His Highness right now. Later.”

“There’s no need for an escort. I’d like to speak with the Count.”

To everyone’s surprise, Shainels himself declined the Marquess’s company. Truthfully, he was more interested in speaking with Count Terius than with the Eastern Naval Commander—and the Marquess would only be a hindrance.

“Your thoughtfulness honors me, Your Highness.”

With a respectful bow, the Marquess stepped away.

“Riela, why don’t you catch up with your friends from Wespa for a while?”

Joel, with a glance toward a nearby group, subtly encouraged Riela to create some distance.

“We can greet them later, can’t we?”

“What I’m about to say might embarrass you.”

“…Oh. Alright then.”

Joel whispered to her. If this was a battlefield, the first thing to do was evacuate his woman to the rear.

Once Riela stepped away, Joel turned to face the Marquess with a solemn expression.

“Now that the engagement ceremony is complete… feel free to call me Father, or Father-in-law.”

“Let’s settle the title first, shall we?”

The Marquess immediately corrected what bothered him most.

“Yes, Father.”

“Good. Now, what is it you want to say?”

“Father! I own twelve merchant ships!”

Before the Marquess could brace himself, Joel suddenly declared it—loudly, in the middle of the grand ballroom.

“Why… are you shouting that right now?”

People had been expecting something meaningful. Instead, the groom started loudly boasting about his wealth. The Marquess was dumbfounded.

…Twelve ships?

And that wasn’t even an exaggeration. It was far beyond what the Marquess had assumed.

“Did you hear that? He said twelve ships. Twelve!”

“My goodness. The rumors were true—he really is the number one bachelor.”

Where there’s money talk, attention follows. The noisy banquet quieted at once, and guests leaned in to listen.

“I believe I have more than enough means to make Riela happy.”

No one could argue with that. Joel wasn’t just any knight—he was the owner of twelve trading vessels. While most knights earned a meager salary, Joel was earning sixty times that in passive income—just by breathing. And that didn’t even include his future inheritance.

“So, what’s your point?”

The crowd was watching. The Marquess’s mouth went dry.

“Starting today, I want to live with Riela!”

Joel had just asked the most traditional, conservative nobleman in the Empire for permission to move in with his daughter before marriage.

“You… you… im—!”

This was the kind of request you whispered in private—after the ceremony. And Joel had just blurted it out in front of hundreds.

The Marquess barely held back a scream. His face turned red as he bit back words that would ruin his image.

What kind of deranged bandit says something like that?!

He grabbed the back of his neck. How dare this man—how dare he touch his precious daughter before the wedding?

“From this moment on, I swear she will never shed a single tear because of me!”

Joel fired his final volley straight at the unyielding wall of tradition.

“I, Joel Terius, as a knight who honors his word, pledge this: I will love Riela and only Riela for the rest of my life. Please, entrust her to me.”

“Kyaaa~!”

“Now that’s a Southern man!”

Clap! Clap! Clap!

Cheers, applause, and admiration erupted across the hall.

Support