Chapter 15

At her words, Rodella quickly waved her hands.  

“No way.”  

While the person in question, Aivert, made no effort to deny it, Count Syveric calmly spoke up.  

“Aivert would’ve done just fine on his own. It only happened a little earlier than expected.”  

“And I was worried our daughter might suffer at the Academy under pressure from the noble cliques, but the Royden family shielded her well.”  

Rodella’s mother chimed in warmly.  

“Oh please, that was all thanks to his name. I didn’t do anything.”  

It had already been over a decade since the former Duke Royden—also Aivert’s father—lost his life during the war, dealing with the monsters who had invaded the capital on his own.  

But with no body recovered and a funeral held without a casket, the only heir, Aivert, had been just a child.  

From then on, Lady Royden had had to fight long, silent battles in high society to protect the title and her son until he came of age.  

There wasn’t a single person at the table unaware of the weight of that sacrifice or the influence she had wielded.  

“Shall we raise a toast to my husband, then?”  

The mood briefly paused, but the ever-composed Lady Royden smiled and lifted her glass.  

“To the late Duke Royden and the soon-to-be newlyweds!”  

“To them!”  

The hearty cheers echoed around the room. Among those raising their glasses were Aivert and Rodella—long since used to this performance.  

But among the many, there was one who could always shake the careful act they kept up.  

“Whew… I have no more regrets now. As long as the two of you get married and build a beautiful home together.”  

It was, of course, Lady Royden.  

Perhaps swept up in the mood or suddenly hit by the alcohol, her cheeks flushed a vivid red as she swayed on her feet.  

“Mother, you’ve had too much to drink.”  

Rodella quickly rose to support her.  

“See? She called me Mother.”  

Lady Royden smiled blissfully.  

“You must take care of your health until their wedding.”  

Countess Syveric spoke gently but firmly.  

Lady Royden’s health had already been fragile, but after her husband’s death, her condition had only worsened.  

The years spent fighting to protect young Aivert had clearly taken their toll.  

“Yes, I must… I really must…”  

Suddenly, as if struck by a dark thought, Lady Royden shivered and turned to look at the pair.  

“You’re not going to break up after a fight, are you?”  

“No way.”  

“Of course not.”  

Their answers came naturally.  

But Rodella felt as if she’d been struck over the head with a hammer.  

She was suddenly reminded of the towering wall in the way of her supposedly impending freedom—with less than a year to go.  

What on earth was she supposed to say when they eventually broke off the engagement?  

That it had all been a contract? Or that they had simply decided to go their separate ways after a disagreement?  

Either way, it would surely be too great a shock for the fragile and weary Lady Royden to endure.  

As Rodella’s gaze wavered in uncertainty, she found Aivert’s eyes calmly meeting hers.  

Without words, she asked warmly with her gaze: ‘Do you not care what this would do to your mother, you ungrateful bastard?’  

Though Aivert seemed to understand what she was thinking, his gaze remained unshaken.  

“Don’t worry, Mother,” he said.  

Because regardless of what happened in a year, he had no intention of letting her go.  

“Whew… if the two of you are happy, then I have nothing to worry about…”  

As Lady Royden began to sway again, Rodella rose from her seat.  

But Aivert stood up first.  

As he supported his mother, who seemed about to collapse, he said, “Mother, I’ll take you to your room.”  

“Shall I come with you?”  

When Rodella offered to help, Lady Royden waved her hand.  

“I couldn’t possibly show myself in this state to my sweet girl.”  

She flushed in embarrassment, her voice shy.  

“You’re still beautiful.”  

As Rodella and the Countess offered kind reassurances, Aivert guided Lady Royden out of the room.  

“Just for a moment, then.”  

Leaving behind the gentle chatter of the guests, and the well-trained servants keeping everyone entertained, the two exited the dining room.  

Once outside, Lady Royden—who had been wobbling moments before—walked perfectly straight.  

Then she spoke.  

“You’ve been contacting Royden more often lately.”  

Aivert answered calmly, as if it were nothing out of the ordinary.  

“I am the head of the house, after all.”

It hadn’t been a question meant to receive an obvious answer.  

Sure enough, a faintly knowing smile tugged at the corners of the Duchess’s lips.  

There had been something strange about her question.  

Why had she specifically said you’ve been contacting Royden—as if referring not to family but to some separate entity?  

More than that, why refer to their own house in that detached way, as though they were speaking of a third party?  

But Aivert didn’t seem to find it odd.  

“You used to say you didn’t want to be head of house.”  Duchess Royden smiled as she spoke.  

“That was a long time ago.”  

Aivert returned her words with a faint squint and a smile.  

“Bold as ever. That’s Royden through and through.”  

She gave her son a look, not unkind.  

“So, was it you who arranged the replacement of the Adversary Knight Order’s Quartermaster?”  

To place someone who had once stood against her son right in the middle of his new battlefield—It was almost like saying, I’ve set the board. Crush them as you like.  

Aivert didn’t deny it.  

“You could say that.”  

Or rather, you made it so. The Duchess smiled again.  

“If you said you once hated ‘the Royden way,’ who would believe you now?”  

There was no one more Royden than him at this point.  

Royden referred to themselves as *black ink*—  

Those who spread through the empire like dye in water, subtly tinting everything they touched in their own shade.  

Specialists in intelligence, in the shadows, in manipulation.  

Those affiliated with Royden typically followed the main family, though each held their own views.  

Few ever spoke their true thoughts aloud, and because of that, young Aivert had once found them creepy and hated it all.  

That was why, when he first entered the academy, people had called him *the heretic of Royden*—so sincere, so withdrawn.  

But when he graduated from the academy, when someone targeting Rodella planted a bomb in the carriage she was riding…  

“Mother, I’ll become a Royden, too.”  

From that day on, he became more like a Royden than anyone.  

Still, Aivert’s handling of Ryan Diepelt was… unusual.  

Normally, he would remove anything that irritated him from the chessboard entirely—  

Push them so far to the sidelines they could never play again.  

But this time, he had dropped Ryan Diepelt right into the center of the game.  

The reason was simple.  

If he removed him, Rodella would notice.  

And there was no way someone like Rodella would lose to someone like Ryan.  

“Accidents may be coincidence, but turning coincidence into inevitability… that’s Royden.”  

So when Rodella—who stood opposed to the one the nobles sought to make prime minister—was made Chief Quartermaster of the Azure Knight Order, he made sure an accidental incident occurred—one that forced the nobles to place Ryan Diepelt in a similar position.  

The result?  

Rodella and Ryan would now face each other head-on in regular briefings.  

Only this time, Rodella wouldn’t be alone in confronting Ryan, who was backed by the Department of General Affairs and the noble families, as before.

With the Azure Knight Order at her back securing her safety, Rodella would be able to demonstrate her abilities fairly—before the Emperor himself.  

She would win easily.  

“I’ll keep watching you.”  

“Yes, Mother.”  

Returning to the roles of an ordinary mother and son, the two now stood before the Duchess’s bedchamber.  

As she stepped inside, Duchess Royden smiled.  

“Oh, right—your uncle was quite insistent about wanting to see Rodella. He may just show up at the estate, using ‘coincidence’ as an excuse.”  

Even a quick stop by the main house under the pretense of paying respects would be an excuse enough for an uninvited visit.  

It would let him see Rodella.  

But she would be caught off guard by such an unexpected figure.  

As long as Aivert was around, there was no way he would let her be exposed to such an unplanned situation.  

“He won’t be coming—at least not before tomorrow.”  

His voice left no room for doubt. It was as if he could see the future.  

He had clearly contacted his uncle the Royden way. Likely not in a gentle manner.  

“Oh really?”  

The Duchess let out a soft laugh.  

’You said you never wanted to be like your father.’ 

’That you had no desire to die in the shadows for your country or your house, unrewarded and unacknowledged.’

And yet—  

Here you are, hiding your own achievements, just to remain by Rodella’s side.  

You’ve become exactly like him.  

She didn’t say it aloud.  

She knew he wouldn’t like to hear it.  

So Duchess Royden merely smiled.