Prince Lewis is dead.
Now, the sole heir to the throne is Crown Prince Gueuze.
However, Marquis Penceir had no intention of letting him ascend to the throne. It was clear who had killed Prince Lewis.
All sorts of people were striving to smoothly pass the throne to him. The current king, even past his nineties, was forcibly clinging to his crown, and the nobility were still interacting with the young Prince Lewis.
But with the young prince’s death, all plans were dashed.
With the trained king dead, they must now accept Crown Prince Gueuze as their king. But Marquis Penceir was unwilling.
He needed to meet the old king.
“It seems a bloody struggle will ensue.”
“…….”
“Raymond, for now, you should stay home. I will call you when the time comes.”
“Do you not need my help now?”
Raymond’s green eyes gleamed in the sunset. He was known to be an excellent marksman. Marquis Penceir shook his head. Being too well-known meant his presence here might raise suspicions.
“Everyone knows you and Prince Lewis were close, so your presence in the capital now is definitely not good.”
“I really wish to meet His Highness the Crown Prince Gueuze.”
Marquis Penceir shook his head again. If Raymond met Crown Prince Gueuze and would kill him, it would spark another conflict.
“I understand how you must be feeling. You probably want to take revenge immediately.”
“……”
“But now is not the time.”
“……”
“Go down and perhaps conduct your brother’s funeral. Live quietly as if you’re indifferent to everything.”
Raymond was silent for a long time, as if he couldn’t possibly rise.
“I will surely call you again. But not now. I also have preparations to make.”
“Understood.”
And Marquis Penceir felt he knew who the culprit was. In fact, there could be no one else but one.
Marquis Penceir clenched his fist. Prince Lewis was his king and his nephew. Marquis Penceir had no intention of sitting by and watching Crown Prince Gueuze ascend to the throne.
“Then, I’ll see you next time, Marquis Penceir.”
“Yes, I’ll send a contribution for your brother’s funeral.”
“Thank you.”
Raymond bowed his head and left. His stern face was worrisome.
Poor fellow.
Marquis Penceir watched the younger man’s back and thought so.
Despite the blessings given to him in terms of abilities, that young man had always been unlucky. He lost his parents early and was forced into an engagement with a debtor’s daughter. Then, his fiancée disappeared, and now the only remaining family—his older brother—had died, too.
And now, the Marquis felt a tightening in his chest. The young prince he had cherished more than anyone, the boy who looked up to Raymond with eyes of admiration, had died.
Crown Prince Gueuze must pay for his crimes.
* * *
Raymond closed the door of the Marquis’s chambers.
“…Haa.”
Prince Lewis was dead.
Marquis Penceir was burning with intense vengeance towards Crown Prince Gueuze. Now that Prince Lewis was dead, the next in line for succession was Marquis Penceir. Until now, the marquis had been working to ensure the throne would rightly go to Lewis, but things would be different now.
The real battle for the throne henceforth begins. Crown Prince Gueuze will have to put all his effort into suppressing Marquis Penceir. At least for a year, he won’t even have time to think about women.
“Are you the famed Sir Raymond Saytes?
“Is it true that you can take down a hundred men all alone?”
The voice of the boy who used to look up to him seemed to echo, but he shook his head. That wasn’t what mattered. The discomfort settling in his chest was ignorable. The only important thing was one person.
“Ah, the boutique should be closed by now. I’ll probably have to leave the day after tomorrow.”
He looked up at the sky. The sun was setting.
A burning sky appeared. The edges of the blood-red sky were gradually turning purple, welcoming the night. It reminded him of the only person who mattered to him, the one he loved.
“The sunset, like your hair. The purple sky, like your eyes. The moon, like your fair features… Hmm, is this expression too cheesy? I’m not sure what’s appropriate. But I suppose I should try it. If it’s too cheesy, I can use it as a joke.”
Raymond laughed.
Marquis Penceir will openly console Crown Prince Gueuze in his ‘grief’.
Crown Prince Gueuze will have to devote all his mind to dealing with Marquis Penceir.
And Verdic will do everything to protect Carynne, who he believes holds clues to Isella.
“I need to get some fitted clothes before going back.”
“……”
“I hope I’m not too late and that she won’t be angry. But it should be fine, right?”
“……”
Raymond picked up his bag. It was quite heavy, but not beyond his ability to carry. Raymond looked down at the bag and smiled.
“It will be fine. Carynne will love me no matter what.”
She will be safe till then. Raymond stepped forward lightly.
Only one person mattered.
That was enough.
* * *
Raymond had returned.
His arrival was quite sudden.
Since Raymond hadn’t specified his return date, everyone scrambling on the day of his return was an inevitable sequence.
The first to greet him was Verdic.
Alerted by the distant sound of horse hooves, Verdic sprang up from his bed and hurried to the door faster than any servant, desperate for any news.
“…Raymond Saytes.”
It was him. Verdic felt a wave of deflation.
Raymond Saytes had finally come back to his home. Inevitable, yet Verdic’s heart was heavy with a sense of loss.
‘Not yet… I haven’t found anything yet.’
The thought gnawed at him.
Time had flown much too swiftly. Despite his exhaustive search, no evidence surfaced, and Carynne had remained as tight-lipped as ever. He couldn’t lay a finger on her, and his pleas for her sympathy were in vain.
Time had slipped through his fingers, and now, Raymond had returned.
“Why are you here?” Raymond asked.
“…His Highness Crown Prince Gueuze wrote to me, sympathizing with my situation.”
Verdic spoke through clenched teeth. Raymond simply raised an eyebrow and let out a laugh, one that seemed to mock the entire situation.
“I see. Have you been well?”
“How can I be, when I haven’t found my daughter?”
“That’s unfortunate.”
Raymond’s casual manner irked Verdic further as he bypassed him, carrying a large bag, heading inside his own home.
“G-Goodness.”
“L…Lord Raymond.”
Verdic’s servants and maids scrambled to their feet and dashed out. Raymond chuckled—a cold, dispassionate sound—as he surveyed the disheveled lineup.
He then turned to Verdic.
“Ah, Mister Verdic Evans… Inviting so many people into my home during my absence, you’ve been rather presumptuous.”
Verdic’s face flushed then paled. Interactions with Carynne had taught him to control his anger better, perhaps even to accept defeat more readily.
Verdic spoke again, more slowly this time.
“I just wanted your… maid to have some comfort.”
“Carrie is merely a maid. For what reason have you gone to this extent?”
“She’s Carynne Hare.”
“No, she is not.”
Raymond countered almost playfully, then continued upstairs, still carrying his bag. Glancing down at Verdic, he remarked,
“I’ll overlook your impudence this time, for Crown Prince Gueuze’s sake.”
Raymond’s expression turned blank.
“But I’d appreciate it if you’d leave soon.”
“…What do you know about Isella? What have you done?”
“I know nothing of it.”
His tone was icy.
And then he moved on, disappearing down the corridor to his room, leaving Verdic’s gaze behind.
Verdic brought a hand to his forehead.
“God damn it!”
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