I Stole The Duke - Chapter 77

“Nothing happened while I was gone, I hope?”

Karahan swept aside the curtain at the tent’s entrance and stepped inside.

“No, Master.”

The boy standing in front of the snack basket quickly brushed the crumbs from the corner of his lips.

“Good.”

Karahan took off the Magic Tower robe draped over his shoulders.

Snore… snore…

Inside the tent, three mages were slumped over a table, snoring loudly in deep sleep.

“Let’s go.”

Karahan casually tossed the robe over its rightful owner and grabbed the hem of his apprentice’s robe.

“We’re leaving already? Where to next?”

“We’re going back to the Tower.”

“Huh? Didn’t you say the Tower was stagnant and you hated it?”

The boy furrowed his brows at his master’s unexpected answer.

“I need the authority that comes with being the Tower Master.”

“But you’re the one who stormed out saying you’d never go back…”

“Then you take the position. Be the Tower Master.”

“Haha, Master… I really don’t think that’s a good idea.”

The boy’s cheerful face crumpled like paper.

“Teleport.”

With a flick of his hand and a firm tug on the boy’s robe, Karahan recited the incantation. The two of them vanished.

“Sir Cedric, Sir Roswell. I’m worried about the two knights we sent to apprehend the culprit. Could you go check on them?”

It had already been more than ten minutes since they left.

‘I hope nothing’s gone wrong. I still have the antidote cards, but… if more than thirty minutes pass, it could be dangerous.’

Eliana sat on the sofa inside the tent, but her mind had no moment of rest.

“Yes, my lady.”

Cedric and Sir Roswell were just about to step outside—

Boom!

With a loud bang, red smoke billowed into the air from the center of the clearing where the podium was set up.

“Oh my goodness!”

“What on earth was that noise?”

“Doesn’t it smell like gunpowder?”

“Let’s go take a look.”

The queen of this hunting tournament was undoubtedly Freya Espensen. The sun was blazing hot, and the scoreboard was cruel.

Due to the overwhelming point gap, the noble ladies, having lost interest, had been resting inside the tent. But now, one by one, they stepped outside to see the commotion.

“What… what was that sound?”

Still shaken from Karahan’s presence, Eliana felt her heart sink at the sound of fireworks.

“I’ll go see what’s going on.”

Lucas quickly made his way out of the tent.

“A signal flare was set off from the podium. I believe the tournament has been halted.”

Lucas reported back immediately after spotting the red smoke.

‘Please don’t tell me something’s happened to Sir Ista and Sir Roanes…’

“I can’t sit still. I need to see for myself.”

Unable to shake her growing anxiety, Eliana grabbed her clutch and pushed her way out of the tent.

“Sir Ista! Sir Roanes!”

As she stepped outside, beyond the fading red smoke, she spotted two familiar figures walking slowly toward her.

“What about the one who fired the arrow?”

Eliana asked as soon as she noticed their empty hands.

“We’re sorry, my lady… We lost him.”

“He must have had a teleportation scroll. He disappeared right before our eyes.”

Roanes couldn’t bring himself to meet her gaze and lowered his head.

“We have no excuse, my lady.”

Ista’s heart ached with guilt as he stood there, lying through his teeth. They had just wrapped up and hidden the mole-like man in a carefully packed bundle.

“…As long as you two are safe, that’s all that matters.”

With Karahan’s appearance, the assassin was no longer her top concern. She had retrieved the magical card, and if the assassin appeared again, they could deal with him then.

“My lady, I believe the one who fired the signal flare was His Grace.”

Lucas, narrowing his eyes as he studied the podium, gave his report.

‘Michalis?’

Nothing was going according to expectation. With a heart weighed down by unease, Eliana began to move—one step at a time—toward Michalis.

“Michalis. What happened?”

“I heard there was an assassination attempt.”

Michalis approached quickly, gently placing his hands on both her shoulders.

‘Already?’

He was supposed to be deep in the hunting grounds by now. How had he heard so soon?

“Yes… That’s what happened, but…”

Eliana looked around; her eyes full of suspicion. Her gaze brushed over Ista and Roanes—who immediately dropped their eyes to the ground, unable to meet her stare.

“Are you hurt anywhere?”

Michalis’s voice was as gentle as always, no different from usual.

“No, I’m all right.”

“I won’t let anything like that happen again.”

“…Sorry?”

Eliana blinked at his sudden firmness, but Michalis didn’t answer.

‘Why do I feel so uneasy…?’

It felt like she had bitten into an unripe persimmon—bitterness coating her mouth, difficult to swallow.

About thirty minutes passed.

The hunters who had ventured deep into the woods began returning to the safe zone one by one.

“What’s going on here?”

“Why did you stop the hunting tournament?”

“I was this close to bringing down a huge black bear!”

Grumbling voices filled the air as the returning participants began questioning Michalis.

“You’ll understand once everyone has arrived. Just wait.”

Standing tall beside the podium, Michalis gave them a curt, unapologetic reply.

“Tch… really.”

Those checking the scoreboard nearby clicked their tongues in frustration.

‘Wait… could it be?’

One man glanced at the board, then at Michalis’s face, suspicion flickering across his expression—before he quickly turned away.

‘No, surely not…’

There was tension in the air. But it didn’t seem like Duke Ascher had halted the tournament out of spite for failing to capture a single beast.

One hour after the signal flare went off—

Most of the participants had returned, and the emperor approached the podium atop a glossy cream-colored horse.

“What is the meaning of this disruption, Duke?”

The murmuring crowd immediately fell silent at the sound of the emperor’s voice.

“I offer my sincerest apologies to Your Majesty for unilaterally halting such a meaningful event due to an unfortunate incident.”

In full view of the entire gathering, Michalis dropped to one knee, bowing with the salute of a loyal subject.

“An unfortunate incident, you say?”

The emperor’s displeasure eased slightly in response to Michalis’s respectful demeanor.

“There was an assassination attempt on my wife.”

“…What?”

The emperor inhaled sharply, clearly stunned by what he had just heard.

“A-and what became of the culprit?”

An assassination attempt on a high-ranking noble, right within the royal hunting grounds—this wasn’t just a scandal. It was a disgrace to the imperial family, whose responsibility it was to ensure safety.

“Regrettably, we were unable to apprehend the culprit on-site. However, we did recover solid evidence.”

Michalis raised both hands, revealing the poisoned arrow he had received earlier from Sir Roswell.

“Therefore, in light of this grave offense that threatens both my wife’s life and the dignity of the Imperial Household, I formally request Your Majesty grant me investigative authority.”

Gasp!

The words investigative authority hit the crowd like a bucket of cold water. The air instantly grew tense and cold.

“Very well. I trust you, Duke. This matter is in your hands.”

The emperor granted permission without hesitation. His faith in Duke Ascher was evident.

“I am deeply honored by the grace of the sun, Your Majesty.”

“Rise, Duke Ascher. Compose yourself.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Michalis stood up confidently, having secured exactly what he wanted.

“……”

The crowd, holding its collective breath through this dramatic exchange, swallowed hard. From this moment on, everything would unfold according to Duke Ascher’s judgment—one way or another, blood would be spilled.

‘Who in their right mind would target the duchess…? One noble house is as good as gone.’

It was well known across the Empire just how much Duke Ascher adored his wife. Whoever was foolish enough to target her had signed their own death warrant.

“Son-in-law… Don’t tell me… is this the attack you mentioned before?”

The ever-perceptive Marquess Rancelloti, his face pale, glanced toward Joel, standing beside him.

“I believe it is.”

“……”

‘The House of Espensen is finished.’

Marquess Rancelloti felt a chill race down his spine. Duke Ascher was far more terrifying than he had imagined.

‘Someone’s going to die…’

Watching the exchange from a distance, Count Espensen slowly shook his head.

“This hunting tournament seems to have ended here. Karl, Victor—start preparing to return.”

“Yes, Father.”

“What about Freya?”

“She hasn’t stepped out of the tent once.”

“…Very well. I think she’s done enough reflecting.”

At that moment, Count Espensen still had no idea what his daughter had done.

“Let’s go.”

Michalis, striding forward, reached for Eliana’s hand—her face had gone pale.

‘So this is what it was.’

The vague unease, the bitter taste of tension—this was the cause.

‘Michalis and the emperor… they’re about to bring down House Espensen.’

Her legs stiff with fear, Eliana moved awkwardly, pulled along by Michalis’s hand.

“…Did it really have to go this far?”

Time was running out. It felt as though Michalis might destroy the Espensen family with or without real proof.

“If keeping my wife safe means staying silent about an assassination attempt… then yes, I will do far worse.”

Michalis’s voice was like the low growl of a predator, poised just before the kill. Eliana could feel the pain in her wrist from how tightly he was holding her hand.

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