As February began, the weather remained cold, but hints of spring were gradually emerging.
Life began to rejuvenate, with proud greenery already adorning the northwestern fields.
On the road from Alda to the neighboring territory of Lanaka, a group of riders galloped swiftly.
“Truth be told, I prefer the snowy winter over the green warmth of spring,” Paul complained to Malron, riding beside him. “It’s a pity such a beautiful season passes so quickly.”
“Are you joking, Paul?” Malron expressed his surprise. The harsh winters of the northwest were a significant challenge for the inhabitants, with many poor families losing members to the cold.
“The longer the winter, the more civilians freeze to death! To think you, a lord, would say such a thing!”
“Ah, my apologies, that was indeed inappropriate of me. I promise that future winters will lose their severity, becoming warm and beautiful seasons.”
With the introduction of blast furnaces for ironmaking, Paul planned to increase coal production for coke manufacturing. The coal mined wouldn’t just be for iron production; it would also be sold to commoners at low prices.
“Let’s discuss why Count Price Parker invited us. What do you think it’s about?” Paul asked.
“It’s probably about the technology we possess. Didn’t we agree to discuss it after the Duke’s birthday?”
“I have a feeling it might be something else…”
They arrived at the Parker family castle by evening. Count Price Parker welcomed Paul and Malron inside.
After brief pleasantries, the Count arranged for their accommodation and rest, later inviting them to dinner.
“Lord Parker, may I ask why you have invited us to your castle?” Paul inquired. Their invitation only mentioned urgent business without specifics.
“Ahem! Paul, Malron, I am somewhat your elder, so I’ll take the liberty of addressing you by your names. I’ve called you here regarding the succession of the Duke. As you know, Duke Ferdinand has named Count Kent as his heir. What are your thoughts on this?”
Paul and Malron exchanged glances, unsure of the old Count’s intentions.
Before Paul could formulate a response, Malron spoke up indignantly, “Personally, I’m pessimistic. Marltz Kent is no good man and lacks the demeanor of a high noble. Last year, he tried to extort us and nearly launched an attack. Though he refrained for unknown reasons, we’ve made an enemy of him. I’m sure you’re aware, Lord Parker, of how he’s been abusing the Duke’s favor, causing strife among the northwestern lords. If he becomes the Duke, things will only worsen.”
Paul listened, sweating, wishing to intervene but too late to do so.
Oh dear, my dear brother, why speak so hastily? What if Price Parker is allied with Marltz Kent, or probing our stance on Kent’s behalf? What if there are five hundred axemen lurking outside, waiting for Parker to signal?
Anxiously, he glanced at the elderly Count. Price’s expression remained unchanged, not smashing his cup, simply stroking his white beard.
After a tense minute, Price finally spoke, “Malron, your words resonate with me. I too believe Marltz Kent’s ascension to Duke bodes ill for us.”
The elderly Count spoke solemnly, “Especially for us, who are direct vassals of the royal family.”
“What do you mean, Lord Parker?”
“Let me introduce someone to you. Viscount, please come in.”
As Price spoke, he clapped his hands vigorously. A figure emerged from around the corner of the corridor and approached them. Fresh chapters posted on novelFirｅ.net
Paul and Malron were shocked to see the newcomer was none other than Duke Ferdinand’s brother, Viscount Henry Ferdinand.
Wasn’t he imprisoned in the dungeon by his own brother? How did he end up here? Could it be that the brothers had reconciled?
Paul looked at Price, filled with questions.
Price addressed Henry, “Viscount, these two gentlemen are certainly not aligned with Marltz Kent. You must have heard about the near-war between Alda and Emden last year. Please tell them what happened.”
Henry Ferdinand, looking much leaner than at the Duke’s birthday party but with added resolve on his face, bowed to Paul and Malron, then spoke hurriedly:
“Lords, Marltz Kent is planning to betray the kingdom!”
“Betray the kingdom?”
Paul and Malron were stunned. This was a lot to take in.
“Do you mean he plans to stage a rebellion, like Jars did?”
“Yes, that must be his plan.”
“And how did you come to know of this, Viscount? Shouldn’t such a matter be reported to your brother first, to strip Marltz Kent of his heir status and then arrest him?”
Paul was somewhat incredulous. Although the Kent family was notorious in the northwest, they were just an earldom, hardly a match for the kingdom’s government.
Oh, maybe after inheriting the dukedom, he’d have some leverage. But if Duke Ferdinand knew of his schemes, he wouldn’t… Wait, could it be that Duke Ferdinand is the one planning the rebellion? Isn’t Marltz Kent his most trusted henchman?
Paul looked at Viscount Henry, pondering if he was about to denounce his own brother.
Henry’s face was filled with sorrow, “My brother told me this himself. My brother—the esteemed Duke of the Northwest—has been controlled by the villain Marltz Kent.”
Paul and Malron roughly understood the situation. Duke Ferdinand, controlled by Marltz through some means, had become aware of his intentions to rebel and secretly informed his brother, Viscount Henry. The Viscount then sought to reveal Marltz’s plans to other lords.
Of course, this assumed that Viscount Henry was not lying. There were still many unresolved questions, such as how exactly one could control a Duke to the extent that he couldn’t speak out even in front of many lords at his birthday party, only managing to secretly inform his brother. And how did Viscount Henry manage to escape?
Seeming to anticipate their questions, Henry handed them a piece of paper.
“This is a letter written by my brother. Please take a look.”
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