“Your Majesty.”
“Isn’t that, right? Even so, as his son, you always keep these matters hidden from the Marquis’s wife, don’t you?”
“……”
As Count Jerome responded only with silence, Leopold dragged a hand roughly down his face and roared.
“I’m asking because I’m frustrated—frustrated!”
Even after brutally dismembering the captured Reinhardt agents and feeding their bodies to dogs, his anger had not subsided.
“What happened to the two captured wolves? Did you get anything out of them?”
At the question, Count Jerome let out a short breath.
“As I have already reported, they are the type who will not speak of their master, even if their limbs are severed.”
“Then pluck out their eyes.”
“……”
“If cutting off their limbs doesn’t work, boil them alive. If that still fails, skin them. You need to find out how many wolves he has, how far his subordinates reach—something. Only then can you figure out how to kill him!”
Count Jerome clicked his tongue inwardly.
They had already butchered three Reinhardt agents beyond recognition. If there had been results, he might proceed with putting the remaining agents in boiling oil or plucking out their eyes, further torture might have had meaning. But now, it would be nothing more than provocation—an act certain to enrage Oscar further.
Still, if killing the remaining wolves in some grotesque manner would slightly ease the King’s rage, that alone made it worthwhile. For Count Jerome, that was better. Since he had failed to achieve results, appeasing Leopold mattered more than logic.
“I understand, Your Majesty. However, torture is already underway, and there is a high possibility they may die from shock.”
Leopold shut his eyes tightly, then opened them again and waved his hand.
The lady-in-waiting, who had been standing rigidly nearby, moved at once. She poured the liquor, drew a single drop with a glass rod, and placed it on the back of her own hand. Only after tasting it did she present the goblet.
Leopold accepted it without hesitation.
“If I am to fully possess that steel company—the so-called Pillar of Luxen—he must die properly.”
It was an era when royal families were collapsing.
Land was no longer the sole source of power. If the steel company known as the furnace of East Norfolk were nationalized and absorbed into royal hands, he would become a true king—one who held both wealth and authority. The fear of royal decline would disappear.
But for that to happen, Oscar had to die. And before that, the Reinhardt wolves had to be dragged into the open.
Like magma concealed beneath the earth, Oscar had hidden his armed forces too well. Some nights Leopold wondered how many wolves existed in the shadows; other nights, he feared they outnumbered the royal army and found sleep impossible.
A dull ache pulsed behind his eyes. He frowned and drained his drink.
Just then, the lady-in-waiting spoke.
“And the Marquis appears to have met with the King of Felpe. Grand Duke Baden is expected to be removed from his position as President.”
“……”
Leopold’s expression darkened.
Three years ago, Oscar had reduced the King of Felpe to a puppet. He had even placed Baden at the head of Felpe Bank.
Why?
What was hidden inside that bank?
Leopold had tried to uncover it. That was the reason he had secretly approached Grand Duke Baden in the first place. But a fool remained a fool.
“How can he know nothing?”
Who held the key Oscar coveted? What lay inside the vault? Baden knew none of it.
Instead, his unease only grew. And the assassination attempt had failed.
His late father’s words echoed in his mind.
“Reinhardt is a wolf. A wolf is not a dog. It knows neither loyalty nor obedience. It moves only for its own purpose.”
And his final warning:
“Never let the orphaned young wolf grow up.”
Leopold had assumed the problem would resolve itself. Reinhardt’s family had collapsed. His mother had abandoned him. He had not even attended the academy that minor nobles frequented. There were years when Leopold had nearly forgotten he existed.
It had been a miscalculation.
“So where is the Marquis now?” Leopold asked coldly.“Is he still in Felpe?”
“No. His train is heading to the capital. However, …”
“However?”
“He is accompanied by a woman. She does not appear to be a maid, and her status is… unusual.”
“A woman?”
At Leopold’s reaction, Count Jerome bowed more deeply.
“Yes. I will investigate further and report back.”
Leopold clicked his tongue sharply, displeased by the word investigate, yet a twisted curiosity flickered in his eyes.
Oscar von Reinhardt was bringing a woman with him.
It was the first piece of information that felt remotely meaningful after a long, a tedious and useless exchange.
—
Meanwhile, Seo-ah, entirely unaware that her existence had caught the attention of the King of Luxen, sat trembling with unease inside a magnificent carriage.
Only a short while earlier, the train that had been running smoothly had stopped—once again not at a station. She had been told to disembark immediately. When she asked whether this was truly the place to get off, she was calmly informed that they would be traveling by carriage from here.
She knew nothing. And because she knew nothing, she had no grounds to argue.
A sturdy carriage, which had arrived at some unknown point, waited nearby. The train departed without delay. Abel extended his hand, urging her to board quickly. All of her belongings were already with him.
Left with no choice, Seo-ah held her breath and climbed inside.
The interior was as well appointed as the train. She took a seat near the window. Abel boarded after her and sat opposite. Soon, the carriage began to move.
Gazing at the unfamiliar scenery sliding past, Seo-ah asked, keeping her voice as steady as possible.
“How far is it to the mansion?”
“About twenty minutes.”
She nodded faintly and discreetly wiped her damp palms.
Trusting no one, every minute felt stretched thin. Unlike the endless grasslands from earlier, the terrain outside had turned dry and rocky. Dilapidated, unpainted houses appeared sporadically. Then, a small cluster of dwellings—something that could be called a village. Children played in the open spaces between them.
Only then did her tightly wound heart loosen slightly.
“Is this Vues, the capital of Luxen?”
Abel glanced outside before replying.
“No. This is still outside the capital. We’ll cross the Rothen River soon. That river marks the boundary. Once we cross it, that will be Vues.”
A short while later, the river appeared.
Seo-ah pressed closer to the window, gazing down at the clear water flowing beneath the bridge. It was the first time she had seen a bridge this high. For a brief moment, she wondered how such a structure had been built.
But the moment the carriage crossed the river, the city that unfolded before her wiped away every lingering thought and forgot her anxiety.
Vues—the Pearl of Norfolk.
Even the streetlights were crafted with care, shaped like leaves and flowers, arranged alternately along the roads. Flower baskets hung neatly at their waists. Elevated sidewalks lined with shops stretched on, each storefront meticulously decorated. People flowed freely in and out. In sunlit open spaces, tables were always occupied by people chatting easily.
Yet it was too early to simply be impressed.
After passing through the long stretch of shops, the scenery suddenly opened into a wide square. The carriage slowed briefly before entering the circular square, then resumed its pace. As they traced the curve of the square—orderly neat rather than ornate—the centerpiece revealed itself.
Atop a pillar taller than a man stood a bronze statue of a mounted figure.
One hand held the reins, the other a long sword. The man gazed straight ahead, his expression stern, his eyes shadowed beneath a military cap that radiated a dark, intense authority.
“It’s the statue of the late Marquis Reinhardt.”
At Abel’s voice, Seo-ah turned her head. He indicated the statue with his gaze.
“The late…?”
“His father.”
Seo-ah looked back out the window.
Now that she looked closely, there was a resemblance. Especially the eyes—those deeply shadowed, piercing eyes.
My father… now a statue.
“Then is the building behind us the Reinhardt mansion?”
“No.”
Abel’s denial came sharply, almost too quickly.
“It’s the Royal Palace.”
—