“Is the Duke in the neutral area? I feel like he could visit the capital at least once,” Count Garion said as he sipped the top-quality wine.
Sitting across from him, Claude smiled at the Count, “If the north falls, then the empire falls. Father moves only if necessary.”
The Count laughed to himself, “But still, my daughter is getting engaged. I was thinking about getting them married when the princess and Marquis Kieran got engaged.” He wanted to do this so that he could invite the Duke to the wedding.
Claude stared at the youngster, who was thirteen years old at most, while she moved her fork as elegantly as she could around the plate on the table. The Count’s child blushed and brushed her hair behind her ears when she saw Claude staring at her.
Canillian had shown up in Cosoar around the same age, so he wasn’t sure why he felt differently about this idea. And Canillian had looked much younger and smaller than her.
Claude noticed that the Count was observing him, and he smiled as he replied, “I’ll let him know. You won’t have a chance unless he stays in the capital.”
“Really?”
“Of course. A good occasion like this should be a celebration.” The young Duke accepted his suggestion cheerfully. The joyful Count then ordered the most expensive wine to be brought, as if the Duke himself had accepted the proposal. It had been worthwhile to be persistent and wait.
Only a few minutes ago, the Count had been agitated because the young Duke hadn’t arrived at the agreed time. The food was all ready, his daughter was all dressed up, and a card awaited him. But, the young Duke was late, and the food had gotten cold, which had annoyed the Count immensely.
Although Claude had arrived at the Count’s mansion an hour late, he didn’t cause a scene about it and instead had run outside barefoot to greet him. There was no greater honor than if Duke Ihar attended the wedding. To add to that, Claude Del Ihar was the representative of the Duke, and it was almost a certainty that he was to become the next Duke. It was a time in the empire when connections with the right people equaled power, and Count Garion felt like he’d just gotten the best supporter.
“Anyway, were you very busy?” The Count chuckled, “I was worried when you didn’t show at the promised time. Was there perhaps car trouble?”
Claude raised an eyebrow as he could read the Count’s mind when he purposely emphasized the time. “There was some business that I needed to attend to, which is yet to be taken care of. I’ve enjoyed my meal, so would you excuse me?” Although the top-class wine ordered hadn’t yet made it to the table, Claude stood up and wiped his mouth with a napkin. Chairs then scraped loudly on the floor as everyone got up in respect.
The flustered Count hurriedly brought a card over and handed it to him. “It’s the invitation. Please, attend. I’ll await a reply.”
“Thank you.”
“And please let the Duke know that I’ll be at his service, so come find me if necessary.”
“Yes, I shall do so.”
After shaking hands with the Count, Claude walked across the garden in bloom, and the sunlight warmed his smiling face. But the moment he stepped into the carriage which awaited him, the spring light like the smile on his face disappeared. And Claude clenched his fists the moment the door closed. The Count had a sad look on his face when he’d said goodbye, and Claude wondered if he thought he was leaving too early.
“Where should I take you, Master?”
“To Canillian.”
“Yes, Master.”
The attache looked perplexed as he observed Claude’s face when he let out a sigh and brushed his bangs back with his hands. Claude quickly corrected himself as if he’d made a mistake, “I’ll go to the townhouse today.”
“Yes, sir.”
Claude had been planning on canceling the meal with Count, but because it was related to the reputation of Duke Ihar’s family, he couldn’t. If it hadn’t been a prearranged dinner, there was no way he would’ve left Canillian with the sly Ian Sergio. The damn prince liked guys. Otherwise, there was no way he would show desire, outright like that, to Canillian.
He recalled what Ian had said, “I have no intention of rolling around on the sofa. And Sir Claude, I will take the prince to the Marquis place. Please leave.” Claude let out a scoff to such absurdity. And it irritated him that Canillian called Prince Sergio by his first name, Ian. Not Ian Sergio, just Ian.
Claude loosened his tie while leaning against the backseat of the carriage. He looked a mess with his untidy hair and an untucked shirt. Although Claude felt frustrated, Ian wasn’t someone he should be concerned about, because like Canillian had said, Ian Sergio was a guest of the Marquis, and if he was here, that meant that Kieran Vale wasn’t too far behind. There was no way that Kieran, who cared about his sibling so much, would leave some weird person like Ian beside Canillian. And Claude chose to believe that.
At the moment he was erasing the thought of Canillian, through rationalization, the attache spoke, “Master, it’s Sir Ivan.”
Ivan was in front of the Duke’s mansion, and when he saw the carriage approaching, he dismounted the horse. Claude opened the window when the carriage came to a stop.
Ivan walked straight up to the carriage and said, “At your service, young Duke.”
“Did you find it?”
“Yes. That night, only one stableman drove the green lando carriage. When I went to him, he said he drove some noble lady to the statue of Saint Mateo. And he was paid handsomely with one gold piece.”
Claude nodded while he thought about this. The statue of Saint Mateo was beside his townhouse. And the only noble house around was the Duke’s mansion. “If the stableman’s words are true, that means the lady isn’t noble.” Or, maybe.