# 14
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News of the return of the Duke of Richmond, Walter Richmond, has arrived at the Duke's castle. In his luxurious office, an angry scream rang out.
“Are you saying they failed again?!”
A middle-aged man with an inverted hook-shaped beard was repeatedly hitting the desk, unable to restrain his anger.
“Over ten years, how many hired killers have we sent?! How much money did we spend on the price of their heads...!”
While his face was turning red and blue with anger, a woman who was drinking tea next to him stood up, clicking her tongue in dissatisfaction.
“That's enough, my dear. "It's not over yet."
“The title of Duke will not return to me, Henry Lenco, unless that scoundrel dies!!! But he doesn't die!!! How can you ask me to stay calm?!
“The Duke was thirteen years old when he went with his knights to the Wall of Death. “It has been ten years now.”
«……»
“The etiquette of aristocratic society, the common sense, and the dignity that a duke should have.”
The woman emphasized her words, then shrugged and touched her hair with one hand.
“He learned nothing from her at all. Not once did he appear in high society. He did nothing but fight to survive day after day. Who is left by his side now?
Marquis Henri Lencoux's eyes sparkled as he listened to his wife.
“Right...”
“So, even if the Duke returns, who will support him? Except for knights who are only good at using swords, he has no influence. What is really important is… who is the real owner who protected the Duke of Richmond’s castle?”
● ● ●
After his wife's caressing of him, Marquis Lenco continued complaining and muttering for a long time, then said:
“Yes, this palace is mine. After I expelled all those who followed the previous Duke without exception, everyone who had influence in this palace came to my side.”
“Even the lowest servant stands on our side. Walter Richmond will never be able to control this mansion. The Duke will be treated exactly as his grandmother was treated, and he will not dare antagonize us. When the time comes to get rid of it, we can calmly reconsider the matter.”
Marquis Linco's wife finished speaking in a soft tone, then left the office. In the corridor, there was someone waiting for her: Mrs. Isaacs, the Grand Duchess' maid.
“Madame Marquise.”
But the Marquise gave her a look of dissatisfaction, and left without replying. Anger sparkled in Mrs. Isaacs' eyes.
“How dare you treat the Grand Duchess this way?!”
The marchioness, who was walking away, stopped, then turned and approached. She quietly brought her hands together and smiled sweetly.
“What have I done that makes you talk like that?”
“You are pulling out the annex’s maids one by one, and now you have reached the point of reducing the firewood as well?!”
“Wow. "And did the Grand Duchess say she was cold, Mrs. Isaac?"
Faced with this impudent question, Mrs. Isaac finally exploded in anger.
“Go see for yourf how cool that accessory is!!”
The Marquise let out a low laugh, and then the maids behind her laughed all at once. After she stopped laughing, a serious look appeared on her face.
“Winter is coming, isn't it? Even I make sure to save one log of firewood. Tell the Grand Duchess to bear a little for the sake of the family. Only then can we get through the cold winter warm, right?
To say that the Duke of Richmond’s household is unable to provide a single log of firewood is an excuse that even a child would not believe. The Marquise patted Mrs. Isaacs on the shoulder with feigned affection, then walked away with gentle steps. The chatter of the maids behind her sounded like sarcasm.
Mrs. Isaacs closed her eyes tightly and let out a miserable sigh. Her chest was suffocated as if something was stuck in her heart, and her body was heavy as if it had absorbed water. Her feeling of desolation worsened as soon as she entered the annex.
The neglected annex was like the ruins of a royal palace of a fallen state; Lonely, empty, sad. Even the glory of those who resided in it had faded and been forgotten.
Eliza Richmond.
She is the grandmother of Duke Walter of Richmond, the sister of the late Emperor, and the aunt of the current Emperor Venus, who is ill. Therefore, her official title was “Grand Duchess of Richmond,” but people once called her “Queen of Richmond.” There was no woman in the empire with such glamorous titles as her.
But her residence, contrary to those illustrious names, was dark, cold, and gloomy, like a wing of a monastery. She, isolated inside him, was like a slowly dying person. Her arms are thin like dry wood, and her neck, which sinks with every breath, is filled with dry wrinkles.
In the past, many people came to beseech her. They ed her to protect the Duke of Richmond's house from the Marquis Lenco's two husbands who were absorbing the family. But Eliza couldn't even get up. Even when the couple was taking away her powers one by one, she didn't feel angry.
“What is the point of family... and what is the point of honor at all...”
Duke Walter of Richmond was not Eliza's real grandson. Her grandson, whom she truly loved, died. He died with his parents. The son, the daughter-in-law, and the grandson whom she loved so unbearably... After she said goodbye to them all, all that remained for the old woman was a dark, black despair.
One day, when disturbing rumors spread like mist of water that the Emperor's mind was no longer sound
“Mom, please take care of the Crown Prince.”
She left her son, the crown prince, who was her grandson's age, in her care, and took her grandson to the imperial palace. Because the blood of the imperial family ran in their veins, the two children looked alike from childhood, so much so that changing their clothes made it difficult to distinguish who was the young duke and who was the crown prince.
“I'll be back soon, grandma!”
But other than that farewell, the child never returned, neither alive nor dead, to Eliza's arms. The Empress held a funeral for her grandson, and the young Duke was placed in a stone coffin bearing the name of the Crown Prince, and buried in the underground mausoleum of the Imperial Palace. As for what Eliza received, it was nothing but the ashes of her two sons.
When she thought of the heat and terror that little boy must have been through, her breath hitched. Eliza stared blankly into space.
“Grand Duchess, the Duke is said to be on his way back.”
«……»
“Don't you want to get ready for him?”
“I feel sleepy.”
“When His Highness returns, the Marquis Lenco’s spouses will not dare to...”
“It doesn't matter.”
"……"
"It doesn't matter."
Who controlled this family or not… She no longer wanted to care about anything.
Eliza closed her eyes. There was only a thick drowsiness flowing through.
● ● ●
Meanwhile, Jessie, who had carried out Grace's orders and then followed the procession, was scratching her head in thought.
What on earth happened in just ten days?
“This fruit smells amazing! It would be nice to put it in the cart!”
“Don't you think that flowers with her are better? There was a lot of blooming on the way, so I picked some of them!
“Miss, what about your arm wound? This is a special ointment made by our family...”
“Isn’t this just some random herbal mixing of yours?!”
“If you don't know, shut up! I know how to prepare!”
When the knights with frightening faces gathered in front of the carriage and their voices rose, Andrew made his way among them and waved his hands.
“Oh, come on, what is this mess?! Won't you frighten Mademoile?!”
«Huh? Look at this boy?
«These words! It is not appropriate for Mademoile to hear it!
«……»
“Commander of First Platoon, honestly, that ointment...isn't it a mixture of whatever you thought of? Take it with you! And that fruit too! Nine out of ten sneeze if they eat it!! “Only these flowers I will give to Mademoile.”
Andrew stood grimly like a gatekeeper, staring with angry eyes at those elders like the sky above him. Some knights, watching the scene, whispered to the eldest and second son of Count Isaac's family:
“It seems that Count Isaac's youngest son intends to become Mademoile's butler.”
But Andrew's brothers just shrugged their shoulders.
“You have so many gifts that I don't know where to put myf.”
Grace smiled happily as she hugged the bouquet to her chest. The knights who were rearranging their luggage looked at her from time to time.
Nearly ten days had passed since the flight to Richmond had set out. Naturally, the Knights tried to curb their harsh words that they exchanged in the monster-infested Lines of Death. True, it was of little use, but little Andrew stared at them with sharp eyes everywhere, and the knights themves made a voluntary effort.
Sirius scratched his ear and muttered:
“It is better to be a servant to a young lady than to be a worthless knight whose age is numbered in days.”
At that moment, Grace thanked the knight who picked the flowers.
“Knight Jeon, it smells really nice. Thank you."
“Oh, no, no!”
She did not forget a name she heard once, and she did not make the mistake of calling anyone, despite the similarity of the faces of the knights.
“Knight Isaac, give me the ointment and the fruits too.”
When Grace asked for the gifts that Andrew stopped, the knights who brought them waved their hands dismissively.
"Hello! Our thinking was superficial!
“Every gift makes me happy. Thank you all."
After Grace placed the ointment and fruits inside the cart, Jessie, who had joined the procession after carrying out the missus' orders, shook her head right and left as she looked at the huge accumulation of various kinds of items, and that was literally the case.
Whenever the carriage stopped for a while, the knights brought food, blankets, and various things they found amusing, and carefully checked if Grace was uncomfortable in anything. But, because they were children of battlefields and not salons, there was no one among them who could be described as a true noble, no matter how much you tried to beautify the picture, with the exception of only one person: Walter.
As Jessie glanced at Walter's back, Grace was also looking at him. Every time the hem of his heavy cloak fluttered, his hair shook with it. Unlike most of the knights who circled around her discreetly, Walter did not say a word to her the entire way.
“Wait here a minute, Jesse.”
Grace straightened her hair and got out of the carriage. The knights, who were standing disorderly, opened a path in line with her steps.
The wind that passed by Walter carried the scent of cold wood. When he felt her approaching, he turned around, and Grace gave him a gentle smile. The sparkle in his eyes deepened.
Is it an act or a habit? Grace Taylor was good at smiling. For him, and for his men.
“I will first win the hearts of the Knights of Richmond.”
How could a precious noblewoman who had never held a sword win the hearts of knights? Walter was skeptical.
But before they even reached the duchy, five hundred fierce knights had opened their hearts to Grace. They were arriving one after another, like dogs wagging their tails in front of their master, and they were even picking strange fruits claiming that they were gifts. Then, he had no choice but to smile sarcastically.
Walter muttered with a bitter smile:
“Light hearts... like sheets of paper.”
This was not jealousy, but genuine amazement and nothing more.