What Remains at the End of Regret - Chapter 32

“What is it, all of a sudden?”

“……”

“What’s there?”

Edmund, gazing up at the dazzling sun that seemed to scorch the earth, stopped walking.

“I’m asking what’s there.”

“No. Nothing.”

The familiar voice, coming from a short distance away, tightened around Vivian’s chest like a noose.

Vivian remained crouched down until the Duke and Sub-Duke, heading into the mansion, had completely disappeared.

The Duke had his riding jacket in his hand, and if she went out now, she would surely run into him. To avoid such a tragedy, Vivian had to stay in the hallway for much longer.

Yes. Until the ball.

She wouldn’t have much reason to visit this place after that.

Vivian, holding her breath and covering her mouth, let the endless time flow by in the sweltering heat.

Lowering his gaze, Edmund slowly walked towards the serene mansion before him.

The small, white nape of the neck, bent low, probably belonged to Vivian Mabelle, that woman. It wasn’t hard to guess why she was in the hallway connected to the room his grandmother used.

The greenhouse. That was the only thing she would have to tell his grandmother. He could commend her for her decisiveness in grasping and organizing what needed to be done as soon as he told her to stay out of sight.

Although her hiding was too clumsy to be considered a successful execution of his orders.

He was the one who didn’t want to see her.

Because there was no need to see her.

Edmund resumed walking.

Into his unwavering, solid mansion.

＊ ＊ ＊

Edmund, having washed away the irritating heat that had enveloped him, leaned back loosely on the sofa. He didn’t prefer physical activity, but the habit that had naturally formed since his cadet days had overcome his preferences.

After releasing his complicated feelings through exercise, only a pleasant freshness remained. In that respect, riding was a good means. As he cut through the wind and picked up speed, the heat eventually disappeared, and a faint sense of liberation rose from the suffocating air.

Edmund put a cigarette in his mouth and picked up the documents placed on the table. As he lit the cigarette, a pungent smoke that burned his throat slowly flowed in. Edmund’s eyes, staring at the first page of the document, slowly read the words.

[Grand Duke Francis’s Residence]

[Smuggling]

[Unconfirmed Transactions]

The meaning of the scattered words was clear.

Treason.

When he confirmed the Lockberg weapons that had entered Fobert’s port, he had a hunch. It didn’t take long to figure out how many people would dare to secretly buy and hide Lockberg’s goods.

The Emperor’s only uncle and the late Emperor’s half-brother.

Grand Duke Francis.

In the succession war between Grand Duke Francis and the late Emperor, his father had sided with Seymour de Verdettier.

As far as he knew, Grand Duke Francis was a greedy man. He had always thought that he was not someone who would easily let go of what he could have had. It was laughable that he had decided to seize his nephew’s position only now, after more than a decade.

All weapons distributed in Argent were from Lockberg. What was allowed to the nobles was clearly limited. As the late Emperor and his father had stipulated, no weapons that could cause national problems could be possessed without the permission of the Imperial Family.

However, the weapons confirmed at the port included military-grade rifles that the company had most recently produced. It was a type that civilians could not possess unless someone had secretly taken them out of the company without his knowledge. Furthermore, the problem was even greater because it was a new model that had not yet been sufficiently supplied to the Argent army.

The documents listing the untracked serial numbers of the firearms were quite extensive at a glance. Among the weapons listed in the contents were quite a few large cannons.

As he turned the pages, Edmund couldn’t help but let out a sneer at the obvious intentions.

“So greedy.”

It was a small place that no one would pay attention to. If the purpose was rebellion, smuggling weapons into Fobert’s port was a wise choice. It wasn’t easy for him to fully grasp it either.

“Master, dinner is ready.”

“I’ll be down soon.”

How could he use this to his advantage?

Edmund rubbed his dry eyes and stubbed out the cigarette he had finished smoking. He carelessly tossed the documents he had been looking at onto the table.

What kind of wave will this become and crash over you?

Edmund straightened his disheveled clothes, fastened his cufflinks, and walked out of the room.

＊ ＊ ＊

“As Felix wishes, this summer’s ball will be perfect.”

Edmund responded appropriately to his grandmother, who was looking at him with satisfaction, and focused on his meal. The most excited by those words was Felix Anait, the person who had started it all. Catherine, giving Felix, who couldn’t hide his excitement and was fidgeting, a silent warning by clearing her throat, added.

“I invited the Grand Duchess.”

“The Grand Duchess?”

Edmund retorted briefly to his relative, who was making a blank face with a frown.

“Katrin von Verberossa.”

“I’m old and don’t know the latest trends, so I asked the Grand Duchess for help. Thankfully, she gladly agreed to help.”

Catherine, watching Edmund’s reaction, asked.

“If you allow it, I would like to invite Katrin to stay here until the ball. Would that be alright?”

“As you wish.”

Catherine, who had been staring at Edmund as he picked up his knife, couldn’t hide her bewilderment at his unwavering answer and narrowed her eyes.

She knew that her grandson wouldn’t loudly object, but she had expected to hear some resistance since she had brought her in so forcefully.

But it was a good thing for her. Edmund couldn’t possibly not know the intention behind inviting the Grand Duchess. She was also somewhat certain that Edmund understood her intentions and was considering them positively.

“Even if times change, status is still important, Edmund. Katrin would definitely make a good wife.”

Edmund straightened his back and looked at his grandmother.

“I’m not saying you should get engaged right away. I just mean don’t close your heart.”

“Yes, Grandmother.”

Catherine, satisfied with Edmund’s answer, continued her meal.

“Oh, that child said she can’t take care of the greenhouse anymore.”

The unexpected topic came up around the time Edmund picked up his napkin to wipe his mouth.

“Vivian Mabelle, I mean. I knew she was getting married this summer, but it seems like she’s going to hurry it up a bit. She said she’s going to be busy preparing for the wedding.”

Her voice, sounding regretful, contained quite a bit of sincerity, even to his ears.

“It’s definitely the best match for her, so I told her to go ahead. Marriage is a very important matter for a woman.”

“Ah, Hayden Harper’s fiancée?”

Felix nodded in agreement, realizing that the fiancée of the owner of Merilo Franc, whom he had met at the port and who was quite handsome, was Vivian Mabelle, whom his grandmother was talking about.

“Well, in this countryside, Harper is quite wealthy. It’s an excellent choice.”

“It’s a shame. If her status were better, I would have liked to have matched you with her.”

As if.

Felix snorted and refocused on cutting the steak that had been served to him. Edmund also didn’t react much and simply focused on his meal.

“What’s with those reactions, you two? It’s obvious that her status wouldn’t work in Litten.”

Catherine, glaring unhappily, coughed a few times, seemingly embarrassed. A low voice suddenly mixed in.

“I have work to take care of, so I’ll get up first.”

“Alright, Edmund. Go ahead.”

Edmund nodded, stood up politely, crumpled the napkin in his hand, and walked away.

As he crossed the red sunset that was fading but still burning and arrived in front of his room, Edmund stopped walking.

Turning his head, the crimson scenery that filled the hallway came into view.

Status.

Yes. That’s the difference between you and me.

I am flawlessly noble, but you are just an insignificant woman in this boringly quiet countryside.

So?

Can’t you overcome it?

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