“And when you were eagerly exchanging messages with Marquis Reinhardt, now you want me to send a letter of protest to the King of Luxen? What insult did that man inflict upon you?”
“He poured alcohol into my mouth!”
“Hmph.”
It was absurd. The King shook his head in disbelief. But the Grand Duke opened his mouth again.
“This is not mere rudeness. It should be regarded as attempted regicide against the Felpe royal family! And ‘exchanging messages eagerly,’ Your Majesty?”
At the question thrown back with widened eyes, the King finally roared.
“Can you deny that Reinhardt’s influence was instrumental in you becoming Governor?”
Why else would he have placed that imbecile in the crucial post of Governor of Felpe Bank? If it’s not for the same reason? It had been possible only because the parliament approved it. And Oscar von Reinhardt had made it happen. On that, he could wager his crown.
In other words, a noble of Luxen had overridden the will of the King of Felpe himself and seated Karl von Baden as Governor of the Felpe Bank.
Reinhardt disrespects the King of Felpe? Had that fool only realized it now?
The King clicked his tongue at the Grand Duke’s boundless stupidity.
“Shall I tell you why you ended up in this state?”
He leaned forward from the dais, voice low and sharp.
“Because you foolishly dallied with both sides. When I did not grant you the governorship, you clung to Reinhardt. You took what was given and refused to pay the price. Am I wrong?”
At that, the Grand Duke’s face flushed red. Veins rose on his neck. His eyes turned bloodshot, just like his mother’s.
“Tell me. What price did that man demand of you?”
“Your Majesty, what are you implying? A price!”
No matter how unfair the situation, he could not speak the secret verbal agreement between himself and Oscar. The moment he did, the King would seize it and declare him a criminal.
“Was becoming Governor not purely my own effort?”
“Baden!”
The rift between the half-brothers yawned like a glacier’s crevasse.
Just then, the tightly shut doors of the audience chamber opened. A servant entered cautiously, glancing about. When the King turned his gaze toward him, the servant announced the arrival of an unwelcome visitor.
“Your Majesty, Marquis Reinhardt of Luxen has arrived.”
The Grand Duke of Baden leapt up and turned toward the door. The King replaced the glasses he had removed earlier. Then, checking the watch still in his hand, he gestured permission.
The servant bowed and pushed open the massive doors.
Thump. Thump.
Leisurely footsteps entered first. Broad, unhurried strides crossed the chamber. Then he appeared.
He had stretched the nerves of both King and Grand Duke to their limit, yet his entrance resembled the protagonist arriving late to a banquet.
The King watched his relaxed gait, his smile, his gaze—then thought, as he looked at the man’s curly black hair:
That hair itself is bait.It makes a cunning thirty-year-old, whose true intentions are unknowable, appear like a playful youth in his twenties. And so, he dismantles defences and artfully obtains what he desires.
Thus, the man, not content with raising his own family, had raised his house to such power and wealth that even a king could not cross him lightly.
Oscar, stopping below the dais, bowed with courtesy.
“I greet His Majesty, the King of Felpe.”
The Grand Duke of Baden, glaring murderously, stirred his bulky frame.
“Marquis Reinhardt! To arrive late—what audacity! Do you find the royal family of Felpe laughable?”
Oscar glanced at the King, then the Grand Duke, then returned his gaze to the throne. The smile he had worn faded. He clasped his hands behind his back like a disciplined soldier and bowed his head.
“It was an unexpected summons. I came as quickly as possible, yet still arrived late. I humbly ask for Your Majesty’s generous understanding.”
The Grand Duke, who had tried to bind himself to Oscar under the banner of the royal family of Felpe, turned beet red when Oscar offered his apology solely to the King. He looked ready to erupt like a volcano, but the King—already weary of Oscar—stopped him. Unwilling to endure Oscar’s presence longer than necessary, the King asked directly.
“I heard there was an unpleasant incident between you and the Grand Duke of Baden last night. I will ask plainly. Did you pour alcohol into the Grand Duke’s mouth?”
The King’s expression cooled.
Despite being questioned about pouring alcohol into the mouth of a Felpe royal, Oscar’s face did not change. He merely furrowed his brow slightly, glanced at the Grand Duke, and answered.
“Well. The Grand Duke did drink a great deal last night, but…”
“Don’t deny it! You seized my mouth and poured alcohol down my throat! That is attempted regicide!”
“…….”
Even at the words attempted regicide, his striking features showed no crack. He looked at the Grand Duke, then—without clear reason—lowered his gaze to the floor. After a brief pause, he raised his head again.
With that small motion, time itself seemed to fall under Oscar’s control.
“Your Excellency, Grand Duke.”
“…….”
When no answer came, Oscar slowly turned his head toward him. Then, meeting the sunken eyes directly, he called again.
“Your Excellency, Grand Duke Baden.”
The unhurried address, as though nothing were amiss, dragged back the memory of a hand closing leisurely around his throat. The Grand Duke recalled vividly the ruthless grip that had held his life.
This was the palace of Felpe. The audience chamber of the King. Yet he felt stripped bare, trampled, helpless—just as he had been the night before.
Oscar spoke softly.
“Attempted regicide.”
He blinked once, twice, then furrowed his brow.
“Why?”
“…….”
“Even if you did, there must have been a reason.”
A sneer formed—devoid of mirth. His low voice resurrected the chilling question.
“Felpe Bank. Is there something there?”
The Grand Duke could not speak.
The only witness had been a prostitute from Amant Rose, and she was hardly in her right mind. No one else had seen the incident.
“There is no action without reason.”
“Th-this… this…”
Last night’s fear surged back like trauma. The Grand Duke’s breathing turned ragged.
“Hoo… Hah, hah…”
Dizzy, he stumbled back a step. Oscar watched with indifferent eyes. Finally, the King could bear no more.
“Take the Grand Duke away at once!”
At the command, servants rushed forward and supported him on both sides. The man who had roared about reporting Oscar’s atrocities was now carried away, shrunken and pathetic, his earlier bluster rendered absurd.
As the sound of his ragged breathing, as if he were about to die, and the servants’ footsteps faded, Oscar remained with hands clasped behind his back, gaze lowered. When the doors of the audience chamber finally closed, he lifted his head and met the King’s eyes.
In the series of actions, from stance to gaze, there was no hesitation. No fear. Only something close to boredom.
For reasons he could not name, the King felt that Oscar truly had poured the alcohol. The man’s lack of interest in hiding it unsettled him.
This was why he preferred to avoid facing him whenever possible.
“…….”
“…….”
After a moment, the King dismissed everyone. Even the guards were sent away. Alone with Oscar, he released a long sigh. When deliberation yielded no answer, directness remained the only path.
“I know you seek to open one of Felpe Bank’s vaults. And I know you placed the Grand Duke as Governor for that purpose.”
“…….”
“Stop there.”
“…….”
“No matter what you do, Felpe Bank will operate by its principles.”
He had been ready to invoke the Norfolk Royal Union if needed. Yet Oscar, whom he expected to deny or feign ignorance, simply nodded in quiet obedience.
—