Chapter 241
Wulken Principality. One of the Empire’s five principalities, located in the east.
Also, as the heart of the Empire’s military industry, Wulken is known as the Iron-Blood Duke’s domain, where they handle all things iron. The “blood” in its name comes from the Iron-Blood Duke’s reputation for crushing enemies like a butcher tenderizing meat.
‘A Demon Lord’s Castle, huh.’
Standing in front of the grand Ducal residence, that thought instinctively crossed my mind. A territory specialized in military supplies, with a war hero as its lord. No matter how I looked at it, the place screamed ‘Demon Lord’s Castle.’
Thanks to that, I even entertained the ridiculous thought that Marghetta might be a princess kidnapped by the Demon Lord—but I quickly shoved it down, knowing the Iron-Blood Duke would truly rage if he heard it. I at least had that much sense.
“I’ve never been to Wulken before.”
While I was spaced out staring up at the Ducal castle, Louise started murmuring as she looked around. Irina also seemed taken aback by this unexpected trip, sticking close to Louise as she carefully surveyed her surroundings.
I couldn’t help but feel sorry for those two. They got dragged along for this Wulken trip just because of the situation with Marghetta and me. Still, I was relieved to see that despite their bewilderment, there was a spark of curiosity in their eyes.
“It’s more lively than I expected, right?”
“Uh, well…”
Caught off guard by Marghetta’s sudden question, Louise struggled to formulate an answer. Wulken’s image could definitely be a bit odd.
After all, it’s the domain of the Iron-Blood Duke, a military-supply hub—so there’s no escaping that vibe. I imagined outsiders picture Wulken as a massive forge with molten iron flowing through the rivers and the sound of hammers ringing out 24/7.
Of course, no one would dare say to the Duke’s daughter, “I thought this place would be dull, but it’s actually pretty nice!” That’s why Louise reacted the way she did.
“Hehe, feel free to be honest. The image of Wulken being bleak and stiff is absolutely true.”
Fortunately, Marghetta was someone who could be objective, so she easily brushed it off.
“Still, Wulken has its unique attractions. Since we’re here, let’s do some sightseeing together!”
At her words, both Louise and Irina nodded eagerly. A tour of the principality guided by the princess herself would surely make for an invaluable memory.
“Alright, let’s head inside first. We need to settle our lodging before sightseeing, right?”
With that, Marghetta gently smiled at the two and led us through the front gate. It felt like the Demon Lord’s castle was instantly downgraded to just an inn, but Marghetta deserved that privilege.
As I watched her with satisfaction, I discreetly spoke up.
“Mar, I’ll go in later.”
“Pardon?”
Marghetta blinked in surprise, as if asking what I meant.
“Sorry, I have something to take care of for a bit.”
At my words, Marghetta tilted her head, looking more puzzled than before.
That was a perfectly normal reaction. What could anyone possibly have to do in a place they were unexpectedly dragged to?
“…Well, I can’t help it then. When do you think you’ll be back?”
Regardless, Marghetta understood. Her eyes fell slightly, showing a hint of disappointment, but she still accepted my explanation.
In gratitude for her consideration, I knelt down slightly.
“Whenever the Duke allows it.”
My sudden act of bizarre behavior shocked not just Marghetta, but also Louise and Irina.
But it couldn’t be helped. This was something I had to do.
– If you don’t kneel before my castle, I’ll pluck out your legs.
That line from the Iron-Blood Duke faded into vague memory. He never said it quite like that, but my mind retained that warning firmly.
So, I knelt. For the sake of marrying Marghetta. To gain her father’s acknowledgment.
*
At the largest training arena within the Ducal castle—the place where even the duke’s knights couldn’t enter without my approval—I had been training relentlessly since dawn until lunch. The day before I trained with a spear, yesterday with a sword, and today with a mace.
After handing down virtually all authority to my son, this was my only daily ritual. While I might have stepped back from work, I couldn’t give up moving my body. Stopping training would be like signing a death warrant for the head of House Valenti.
‘It’s not like it used to be.’
However, the harder I trained, the more bitterness flooded in. No matter how much effort I put in, time is undefeated. Continuous training can only slow the pace of aging, not stop it.
But what could I do? At my age, this was still passable. And with many heroes ready to defend the Empire after me, I had little to worry about.
The vice-captain as well as the Minister of Special Affairs and that bastard too—
“Damn it.”
As that scoundrel’s face popped into my mind, my grip on the mace tightened. I realized too late—my grasp had crushed the grip, and the mace’s head fell limply to the floor.
It was a decent piece of equipment, but I ruined it in vain. And it was all because of that damned guy.
‘Insufferable bastard.’
I couldn’t forgive him, no matter how I tried. He had Marghetta, who was more than good enough for him, yet he flirted with other women.
I wasn’t blaming him for having multiple wives. I too had many wives, so what was the issue? For nobles, marriage is an extension of politics, a kind of social activity, and a display of success.
But to accumulate women without committing to marriage? Not giving Marghetta any place in his life?
‘How dare he.’
My grip tightened again. The already crushed grip of the mace was now powdered, blown away by the wind.
If I had at least married Marghetta or even just gotten engaged, I wouldn’t care that much. Regardless of how many wives he had, Marghetta’s reputation would remain intact.
But that’s not the case, is it? With the Duke publicly showing favor for that guy, he and Marghetta found themselves with no formal relationship. Suddenly it meant Marghetta could become his first wife.
‘That can’t happen.’
Since the Crown Princess’s birthday banquet, I had been lost in thought. The competition between Marghetta and the Duke—how should I proceed as a father and duke in this unanticipated rivalry?
The conclusion was simple. As Marghetta’s father and the Duke of Wulken, I must not retreat. No matter how formidable of an opponent the Duke may seem, the Valenti family will not step back. What duke would cower over his child’s marriage?
So, I called both Marghetta and that guy in. To forge an unbreakable bond.
‘It’s a race against time, after all.’
The one who moves fastest leads the battlefield. If the Duke finds it cowardly, I’ll just throw it back at him to ask why he didn’t act sooner.
…I find it rather strange, though. Up until now, the Duke has been startlingly quiet. Although there have been annoying rumors circulating, there’s been no official news of a relationship forming between them.
But for now, it will just remain a question. If the opponent isn’t moving, the first to act has the upper hand.
“Father.”
Just as I resolved to push through even if I collided with the Duke, Richard’s voice came from behind me.
“Oh, did you smash another one?”
Seeing the head of the mace embedded in the ground made me smile slightly.
“They don’t make things like they used to.”
“Are you saying the old stuff was durable? Because I remember it breaking easily back then.”
That was a fair comment; I couldn’t retort. Over the years, most of the weapons didn’t last long in my hands anyway.
Only carefully selected quality goods or things gifted by the Emperor could withstand my use.
Noticing my silence, Richard chuckled for a moment before speaking again.
“Marghetta’s here. With two guests.”
Surprised by the swift visit, I hurried my steps. If Marghetta has guests, I ought to be present to greet them.
“Please treat the guests with respect. We’ve invited them suddenly, so they deserve decent treatment.”
“Yes, Father.”
“By the way, it’s been ages since I last saw Marghetta.”
At that, Richard fell silent.
That’s odd. Usually, when I mention Marghetta, he’d chip in with a quip or two.
“Uh, Father?”
After a moment’s awkward silence, Richard spoke up again.
“What is it?”
“Besides the guests, the Executive Manager has also arrived.”
Well, that’s to be expected. If he sent Marghetta but didn’t come himself, I was already planning to head to the bureaucracy.
And even if he is a scoundrel, he isn’t devoid of brains. He must know how this situation would unfold if he didn’t comply with the call.
“Of course he should come. But why’s that relevant?”
“Apparently, he’s kneeling at the front gate right now.”
A sense of satisfaction filled my chest. Yes, he might not be an idiot.
I’ve told him repeatedly before; since he won Marghetta’s affection, he’d need to kneel and plead. If he truly wanted to marry Marghetta, he’d better start by begging on his knees in front of my castle.
So he showed that he hadn’t forgotten my words as he knelt. Unlike the time he shamelessly showed up at the Crown Princess’s birthday banquet.
‘That bastard.’
While I had no hobby of forcing people to kneel, it was necessary in this case.
“Ahhhh! Daddy!”
“C-calm down, Mar.”
“Why, why is this happening? Th-that person, I just can’t help but like him…”
When Marghetta got hurt, I recalled how she cried so bitterly.
So that guy needed to pay for it. He must acknowledge the wrong he did by making my daughter cry and kneel before me, the Duke of Valenti. That much was needed for Marghetta’s tears not to be in vain.
“Forget about it. He’s a strong one; he can take a few days off without a scratch.”
Of course, it’s not like I planned on letting him go for three days. If he acknowledges his mistakes, I wouldn’t hold back forgiveness. And if I forgive him, he becomes my son-in-law, part of the Valenti family.
So I could just go and tell him he should rise now—
“…I heard Marghetta knelt down next to him as well.”
“……”
That statement wiped my mind clean.
I hurriedly ran to the main gate. If Marghetta’s down there kneeling alongside him, it’s useless.
It was intended to cover Marghetta’s embarrassing moment. Since she cried, I had told him to repay her by kneeling. But if Marghetta also knelt, only she would be the one losing out on this deal.
“Ha.”
As I arrived at the front gate, the sight before my eyes was disastrous.
The two young ladies were restlessly glancing up at the gate from a distance, already aware of the situation.
“Your Highness.”
The scoundrel bowed his head the moment he saw me.
“Father…”
Marghetta looked up at me, her eyes still glistening with tears.
And upon closer inspection, I noticed they were holding hands. What a sight.
“…Come inside.”
Unable to bear looking at them any longer, I said in a clipped voice before turning away.
That scoundrel! Did he perhaps lure Marghetta in? Did he think it would all blow over if they knelt together?
‘Damn it.’
To already be using my innocent daughter like that. If he actually planned this, I would never forgive him.
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