Chapter 22

After that, he found himself struggling to recall the sequence of events. In an instant, the life of the pack was extinguished, and he sprinted frantically toward Elena. His footsteps weighed like lead, and each stride seemed agonizingly slow.

Upon reaching the rocky terrain, the scene unfolding before him provoked Kennard’s loss of composure. He forcefully yanked the assailant away from Elena’s shoulder, hurling it skyward, while the others subdued it by biting at its muzzle.

The temptation to end their existence here and now tugged at him, yet he resisted.

Amidst the turmoil, maintaining composure became a daunting task as he sought to decipher their motives. However, upon discovering Elena lying unconscious, gripped by a severe fever and pain, he relinquished the remnants of his dwindling reason.

He dismantled them, tearing limbs from bodies in a relentless fury.

“Your Majesty!”

Serin’s urgent cry interrupted Kennard’s contemplation.

“I only left Elena alone for a moment to pursue a deer,” Kennard said.

“Why did you take her into the woods?” 

“It was an impulse.”

The truth remained locked within him, an unspeakable secret, even to someone as trusted as Serin. Kennard’s feelings toward Elena were far from warm, a sentiment he wouldn’t admit even to himself.

He couldn’t disclose the horrifying reality: that Elena had been pursued by the White Foxes, left disfigured, and had recently been the prime target of their assault.

Maintaining a façade, regardless of the closeness they shared, became paramount. Revealing his true sentiments was out of the question.

Yet, the undeniable truth lingered – Kennard had used Elena as bait, resulting in significant harm to her. The repercussions weighed heavily on him, leaving him apprehensive about repeating such a callous scheme.

“You wouldn’t even take me on a hunt, and you took Elena with you? On impulse? Your Majesty, I’ve resisted the urge to ask you several times, but—”

Knock. Before Serin could conclude his sentence, an insistent knock reverberated through the door to his office.

“Come in.” Kennard sighed, annoyed by the intrusion into his coveted solitude.

The door creaked open, revealing his butler, Lassino, who entered with an air of formality.

“Your Highness.”

Lassino’s gaze widened as he took in the disarray within the office. His eyes met Kennard’s, and he promptly closed his mouth, bowing respectfully.

“What’s going on?” asked Kennard.

“We have a visitor,” Lassino announced.

“Visitor?”

“Visitor?”

Simultaneously, Kennard and Serin echoed the inquiry, their curiosity piqued by the unexpected interruption.

Terra Demorte lay at a considerable distance from Kennard’s ancestral home of Montefiano. While Montefiano basked in the full bloom of spring, boasting its four distinct seasons, Terra Demorte, with its perennial snow-covered landscapes, clung to the grip of winter for nearly half the year.

Due to the harsh and inhospitable conditions prevailing in Terra Demorte, only a handful of Kennard’s servants accompanied him on this journey. The main estate and the capital had seen no visitors during Kennard’s stay in this remote region.

Yet, an unexpected guest?

“Who is it?”

“Miss Hazel Blade, young lady of the Duke of Blade.”

“What?”

Kennard and Serin exchanged incredulous glances.

Duke Blade, Kennard’s brother and the Emperor of the Baruchella Empire, was in the midst of orchestrating a marriage with a noblewoman from that region. The revelation that a noble representative had ventured all the way to Terra Demorte without any prior communication left him genuinely surprised.

“Did you do this?” Kennard glared, and Serin waved a hand and shook his head. “No. I would not do such a thing unless I were planning to die at your hands.” Kennard resisted the urge to tell him to reconsider his usual behavior.

“Then why is she here all of a sudden?”

“Perhaps the Emperor sent her?”

Lassino, who had been standing in the doorway until then, quietly expressed his opinion.

“Perhaps, as Sir Serin said, His Majesty didn’t attend the birthday banquet, so he sent her himself.” If there was anything Serin didn’t know, Lassino was right. There was no way the Duke of Blade would voluntarily send his daughter to a place like this.

“She came alone?”

“Miss Hazel arrived with only her attendants. They’ve brought a considerable amount of luggage, suggesting she plans to stay for an extended period.”

The elderly butler maintained an unwavering composure in front of Kennard, regardless of the circumstances. Even now, he calmly elucidated the situation with an unruffled expression and tone.

“So, where is she?”

“She’s in the reception room.”

As if Kennard’s mind wasn’t already tangled with enough complexities, additional headache-inducing matters were unfolding.

“This is insane,” Kennard muttered a curse under his breath, running his hands through his dry hair.

* * *

As Kennard descended the stairs leading to the first-floor lobby, he came to a halt midway. Upon reaching the curved section of the staircase, the lobby unfolded before him in its entirety.

Typically adorned with floral arrangements and framed pictures showcasing Terra Demorte’s scenic beauty, the lobby floor was carpeted with luxurious thickness. Given the sparse entourage of creatures and knights, the lobby seldom saw much foot traffic.

However, on this occasion, an unexpected sight awaited Kennard. Numerous belongings and unfamiliar faces crowded one side of the lobby.

“What’s all that?” Kennard furrowed his brow and questioned, prompting Lassino, who had been trailing behind, to quickly approach.

“They are attendants who came with Miss Hazel.”

“This is ridiculous.”

Kennard felt a strong inclination to turn around and retreat to his office. He harbored a distinct aversion to bothersome tasks, be it perusing and responding to letters or delving into the tax records collected from the territory.

Finding joy in training with the knights or embarking on solitary hunting expeditions, Kennard reveled in activities that brought him a sense of fulfillment. Even the nerve-wracking battles of war, despite their intensity, made him feel undeniably alive. Beyond these pursuits, he harbored a profound aversion to becoming entangled in affairs or interpersonal connections.

“You’re not thinking of kicking her out, are you?” Serin, trailing behind like Lassino, swiftly approached and whispered in Kennard’s ear.

Kennard turned to scrutinize Serin, his brow furrowed. Reluctantly acknowledging that Serin knew him best, he grumbled, “Don’t get ahead of yourself. I haven’t said anything yet.”

“Just by looking at your back, it’s obvious you’re thinking, ‘Should I just kick her out because it’s a hassle?'” Serin remarked, seemingly oblivious to his recent predicament under Kennard’s grasp.

As Kennard shot him a glare, Serin casually shrugged his shoulders, a mischievous smile playing on his lips.

“Even if it happens rarely, kicking out someone sent by Her Majesty will lead to big trouble, even for the Grand Duke.”

“I want to kick her out even more,” Kennard grumbled. Despite this, he found himself descending the stairs involuntarily.

“But I don’t quite understand,” Serin began.

“What?”

Serin whispered, drawing closer, “His Majesty is cautious about the Grand Duke. If you marry the daughter of Duke Blade, it might strengthen His Majesty’s position even more.”

“Do I look like I understand?”

Kennard couldn’t fathom what his brother was plotting, attempting to entangle him with Duke Blade. Duke Blade, a distant relative of the aristocracy, had been a modest lord just a few years ago. His recent prominence stemmed from leading a formidable force of elite soldiers, which played a pivotal role in expanding the Baruchella Empire’s territory through invasions of neighboring small countries. Due to these accomplishments, he swiftly ascended to the title of Duke.

The once-overlooked lower-ranking noble from the provinces was now emerging as a rising power in the empire.

Lassino heralded Kennard’s arrival upon entering the reception room. “Your Majesty, the Grand Duke Kennard Den Devel.”

As Kennard crossed the threshold, the women gathered around the tea table near the fireplace redirected their attention. With a slight lift of their dresses, they elegantly bowed their heads in unison.

“I greet the Grand Duke.”

Among the two women present, it was immediately apparent which one was Hazel Blade. Both were adorned in extravagant lace and jewels, but one stood out. Her intricately woven hair, pulled up high, featured a large ribbon, feathers, and rose-shaped jewels.

Kennard couldn’t help but feel repulsed whenever he encountered the elaborate headpieces worn by aristocratic women. More akin to colossal sculptures than adornments, these accessories not only lacked beauty in his eyes but also raised concerns about their wearers’ necks snapping under the weight. They appeared more like potential assassination weapons than mere decorations.

“Lady Hazel?”

“Yes, Your Grace. I am Hazel Blade, the daughter of Duke Blade.”

True to expectation, the woman with the excessive head adornments responded to Kennard’s summons. She possessed dark, glossy black hair similar to Kennard’s and clear azure eyes reminiscent of a serene lake.

Possessing large eyes, red lips, flawless skin, and a well-proportioned figure, she exuded confidence and wore a haughty expression that left nothing to be desired. Lassino gracefully pulled out a chair near the tea table, stepping aside as Kennard took his seat. Following suit, Hazel Blade settled into the chair opposite him.

With patience, Lassino awaited Hazel’s seating, then presented her with a cup of Ervejo tea, cultivated by them. “The fragrance is robust, but the aftertaste is light, making it comfortable to drink,” he explained. After Hazel took a sip, Lassino discreetly retreated to the vicinity of the fireplace.

Serin positioned himself behind Kennard, while the woman accompanying Hazel distanced herself slightly from the group.

“Why has the daughter of Duke Blade come all the way to Terra Demorte?” Kennard inquired with as much courtesy as he could muster. In his heart, he secretly wished he could send her back without delving into the reasons.

As Hazel set down her teacup, she looked directly at Kennard. 

A bold young lady. Unlike anyone else…, he thought.