Chapter 242
Crap. No matter how positively I spun it, there was no denying the conclusion. This was a disaster.
I never imagined that Marghetta would kneel down too. I knew she was proactive, but I didn’t think she’d go this far.
“Ma-Marr! You don’t have to do this too!”
“Couples are one in heart and soul. It wouldn’t be Valenti-like for a wife to ignore her husband’s suffering.”
With that, she plopped down on her knees and settled in. Honestly, it would be simple to lift her up, but that only works if she’s pretending to struggle, and right now, Marghetta was determined not to budge.
If you try to forcibly lift someone who’s holding out, it usually ends with someone getting hurt. I couldn’t urge her strongly enough to stop.
It was like a wrestling match until the Iron-Blood Duke showed up, catching sight of his kneeling youngest daughter.
“…Come in.”
I saw it—the fleeting emotion that crossed the Iron-Blood Duke’s face in that moment.
It was a look that seemed to ponder how best to capture that brat properly.
‘How long does it take to set bones?’
Just from looking at his back, I could feel his displeasure radiating off him. As I followed behind him, such thoughts crossed my mind. Something was bound to break; that was a given.
But since he was a master at knocking people around, a broken bone would be no problem for him. Reattaching it would be a cinch. No, maybe he’d smash it to bits out of indignation? That might take longer.
Idly rubbing my right arm, Marghetta cautiously spoke beside me.
“Carl, I—”
But the moment I quietly held her hand, she promptly closed her mouth. This was no time for apologies.
Honestly, it was true that Marghetta’s actions must have sent the Iron-Blood Duke’s displeasure soaring, but the root cause was me. If I hadn’t behaved like a fool, neither Marghetta nor I would be prostrating ourselves before the Duke.
Besides, Marghetta was doing this for my sake, right? It was only because my reputation wasn’t great that things turned out this way. If the Iron-Blood Duke thought well of me, this would just be a fun little event.
“Don’t hold it too much in your heart. Everything will work out.”
Yeah, it’ll all be fine. The fact that the Iron-Blood Duke even invited us in was a positive sign, right?
If he’d truly gone bonkers, he wouldn’t have let us inside, even if the sky fell. I would have been dodging his sword dances like a character from Dark Souls.
“My dear brother is right! Don’t worry too much.”
And supporting my words was Marghetta, the red-haired jewel of the Valenti, who looked like she’d turn into someone’s charming mom when older.
In a situation where her other siblings were huddled closely with the Duke, here she was, like an oddball with us.
“Our Marr did surprise Father, though. Should we apologize later?”
“Yes, sister…”
“Good.”
That was her fourth sister, the one right above Marghetta in age.
They might not have been exactly sisters based on age, but it’s not like nobles ever aged normally, so they mostly looked the same.
“Don’t worry about it, brother. Father may seem stern on the surface, but he’s actually quite affectionate.”
“Ah, yes. I know very well.”
“That’s a relief. Our husband was scared because he didn’t know that.”
Seeing her giggle like that, I couldn’t help but awkwardly chuckle in return.
I felt the Duke glancing at us from ahead, but I desperately pretended not to notice. Surely he wouldn’t throw a chair shot while flanked by his two daughters.
“Hmmm, but brother, I didn’t expect you to bring the other wives here to ask for permission.”
At those words, I unintentionally turned my gaze toward the Duke. I hadn’t planned for it, but he’d invited guests just like that.
“Are you planning on visiting other fathers after getting our father’s permission?”
As that curious voice lodged itself in my ear, a sense of dread washed over me. Looking at Louise and Irina, whose faces had turned crimson, I didn’t know where to look.
Maybe it would be better to just stick by the Duke’s side? I felt like being next to him would only leave me with some bruises.
The miraculous siege of the Iron-Blood Duke and my potential future mother-in-law was defused thanks to the butler of House Valenti.
When the butler first came rushing in from a distance, I anticipated a scolding from the Duke. The butler failing to greet the guests, especially when the Duke himself was present, could be seen as a total disgrace to the family.
But nobody in Valenti blamed the butler.
“Butler, show our guests in.”
“Yes, Patriarch.”
He simply directed as if nothing unusual had happened.
Seeing that, I could roughly guess. The butler of Valenti was likely a poor soul overworked, and people wouldn’t blame him for being just a little late.
‘Is it like that for all butlers?’
Sure enough, the butler of the Krasius family probably struggled the same way too. After all, the role of a butler inherently comes with administrative responsibilities for a territory.
Still, this was a bit pathetic. Watching such a poor soul right before my eyes—
“You come with me.”
Of course, the most pitiable one here was me. I was no position to feel sympathy for others.
“Yes, Your Grace.”
As the Iron-Blood Duke called me, I walked forward like a butchered cow being led to slaughter. I tried to follow the butler naturally, but it was like I was haunted and ended up being spotted. I wished desperately that I could’ve slipped past unnoticed, but alas.
With every step I took behind the Iron-Blood Duke, his children casually patted my shoulder as they walked by.
“Hmph.”
That could be seen as a friendly gesture toward me. However, the Duke merely scoffed at the sight and didn’t offer any further reaction.
What’s this? Is he only concerned about his own punishment, forgoing the rest?
‘Just how much does he plan to unleash?’
There’s a principle of anger distribution. If multiple people split their anger, each person feels less of it, but if one person has to shoulder it all, it becomes overwhelming.
That’s exactly what the Iron-Blood Duke was experiencing. The more amiable the rest of the Valenti family appeared, the deeper his fury would grow.
“Valenti prioritizes bloodline.”
With that in mind, I mapped out a stance that would hurt the least while walking, and the Iron-Blood Duke lowered his voice.
‘Blood.’
In a flash, I pictured him decked out with an enemy’s head in his fists—
“That’s why, as the end of the year approaches, all family members gather.”
Ah, that blood.
“The gathered Valenti family stays together from the end of the year into New Year’s. Even married daughters are no exception.”
“I think that’s a beautiful tradition.”
“Yet before that, brothers often fight to the death for inheritance.”
What the heck? What kind of reaction am I supposed to have with such sudden topics?
“Even amidst that chaos, my grandfather placed great importance on kinship. The traditions we have today stemmed from that period.”
The Iron-Blood Duke spoke with a strangely nostalgic tone as he halted before a lonely room, distinctively sophisticated yet somewhat intimidating.
On the door, beautifully inscribed letters formed the words:
The Room of Truth
‘That’s a terrifying name.’
It sounded like I’d be grilled alive by magic at any moment.
“My grandfather’s wish was passed down through generations. It’s now my turn to carry that wish into the future through my children.”
Lost in bizarre thoughts, the Duke grasped the doorknob and turned to me. His expression was serious, far from the displeasure just moments ago.
“Valenti holds family as the utmost priority. No matter how capable one is, if they are an outsider to blood, they are rejected, while those who are lacking but blood relatives are embraced.”
The more I heard, the more I understood why the Duke had taken issue with me.
It wasn’t just because I was a rogue who purportedly kidnapped his youngest daughter. It wasn’t because I brought another woman into the picture with his daughter still around.
“When you pushed Marghetta away, she mourned, but that’s as far as it went. If she were to pursue someone with no ties, it’d not matter.”
Although I rejected a marriage proposal, it could either succeed or fail. There was no need to harbor hostility over something so trivial.
“But you, having pushed her away, came back again. You actively sought to become a part of Valenti.”
Yeah, that was the crux of it. I had turned down the Duke’s offer before, but now I was stepping forward again.
From the Duke’s perspective, I was no outsider. I had to be re-evaluated if I fit into the Valenti family.
“No matter how skilled you are, if you oppose blood ties, you will be rejected. Conversely, if you are inadequate but share a close bond with Marghetta, you are family.”
That was why the Duke was troubled by me. I had declared I wanted to become part of the Valenti family, yet I had kept Marghetta at arm’s length while pursuing others.
“Are you willing to bet your lot on Valenti?”
The Iron-Blood Duke asked if I was genuinely committed to becoming a true member of the Valenti House.
If that was the case, my answer was straightforward.
“Yes, Your Grace. Of course.”
“Good answer.”
The Iron-Blood Duke replied nonchalantly as he turned the doorknob.
“You’ll find out whether that’s sincere from this moment onward.”
The Room of Truth opened.
…Wait, you’re not going to really torture me or anything, right?
My site has received a lot of DMCA notices, lol. From now on, I will update the MTL on https://darkmtl.com/.
The site is fast and lightweight because there are no ads yet. However, the theme is different from Cybor-TL, so take some time to familiarize yourself.
Support me by donating at least $10, and you'll have the right to request any novel from Novelpia (excluding 19+ content) using a newly developed tool.