A tall man with blond hair got off the ship docked in the port and stretched his body in stretching exercises.
This was the first ship to arrive from Inland in a month.
Passengers began to disembark from the ship in rows.
Their facial expressions were different, but considering that it was dry land after a month at sea, their faces seemed more tired than excited.
But the blond-haired man looked bright-faced, as if he had not traveled long.
Some passers-by at the port glanced at him.
He didn't look like a commoner, and he didn't look like a noble either.
He looked like the son of a decadent noble family.
His coat looked expensive, but the sleeves were frayed.
Moreover, while several suitcases were the norm on a noble's usual travel, he simply carried only one suitcase.
The bag he was carrying was patched in several places and looked worn and old.
But this piece was made by a famous craftsman from Leverne, made of carefully tanned calfskin, and is an expensive product.
“Young Master!
Here you are!”
A familiar face greeted him.
"As long as I don't see you!
The butler!"
He laughed merrily and took the butler Benjamin's wrinkled hand warmly.
This was Max Engelger's return after six years.
“You seem to have grown a little taller, young master.”
Benjamin's eyes were filled with tears, as if meeting him after a long absence had stirred him up emotionally.
“Aren't you the one who's gotten shorter, butler?”
Max replied with a friendly smile.
Benjamin and Max were riding side by side in the carriage back to the palace.
Max asked the butler.
It was news that he didn't feel was real until he received the letter and booked the ticket.
“Is it true that my father... was shot?”
“Yes, young master.”
The head butler answered in a broken voice.
“Hmm.”
After that, Max fell silent, as if deep in thought.
“We have arrived, young master.”
"I did well."
Max quickly jumped out of the cart.
Then he entered the palace.
“Where is my brother?”
“He has not yet returned from the Royal Palace.
Would you like to greet the Marquis first?”
“I will change my clothes first.
The absent person will not wake up just because I was a few minutes late to say hello.”
“Yes, young master, I will go then.”
“Please prepare warm bath water.
My joints are a little sore after sleeping outdoors.”
Max said as he grabbed the back of his neck and moved his head left and right uncomfortably.
“Okay, young master.”
Benjamin left quietly and closed the door.
When Max wrapped his waist, he heard a pop from his spine.
While stretching his waist, he took out his luggage from the suitcase and quickly unpacked it, finishing arranging his luggage in no time.
He had become a master at packing and unpacking due to his long travels.
He went to the window and looked out.
The flowers and trees are the same as they were six years ago.
Then he looked around his room.
She hadn't changed an inch from how she looked before he left the house.
The quiet, stifling, heavy atmosphere of the palace.
“Huh.
This house hasn’t changed, it hasn’t changed even after six years.”
Max seemed to have been in hot water for a long time, coming into the dining room with a mature flushed face.
The food he was accustomed to eating was prepared on the table.
He smiled happily when he saw the hot soup on the table.
"This soup!
I really missed it!"
He quickly sat up and began to devour the food greedily.
“Eat slowly, young master.
Do you want more?”
“Of course I will eat more.”
After Max ate two more plates, he patted his stomach and said:
“Let's go see dad now.”
Max went to the Marquis's room.
The Marquis was still unconscious.
Benjamin came and explained the Marquis's condition.
“The bullet wounds have almost healed.”
"but?"
“The problem is unconsciousness.”
“What did the doctor say?”
“He said he would wake up.”
"when?"
“This...”
Benjamin couldn't answer, as if he was at a loss.
“I'm going to take some time to greet my father, leave me alone.”
“Okay, young master.”
He closed the door behind him.
Max stood looking at his father.
Lying with a pale, lifeless face.
A tyrant, a greedy person, the embodiment of gossip...
It was an image that contradicted those titles.
“Is this a work-related punishment, Dad?”
Max looked helplessly for a while, then left the Marquis's room without hesitation.
Max, who had returned home after a long absence, was spending time lying in bed.
He was happy to lie in a real bed.
“Dinner is ready.”
“He also brought my brother back from the palace?”
“Yes, young master.”
“Okay.
I'll come now.”
Max got out of bed and went into the dining room.
“Max!”
Richard suddenly stood up and hugged Max.
Max patted Richard on the back once and then sat down.
After a long meeting, they had dinner and exchanged their news over the past period.
They put aside the Marquis lying on his sickbed for a moment.
Suddenly, Max spoke.
“How is Therese?”
“That girl is still fine.”
Richard answered without a distinct expression.
"What about you?"
"What?"
Richard took a bite of food and smiled as he answered.
“You ask why I am still single.
You should have found a wife while I was gone.”
Max's words sounded angry for a moment.
But Richard, who knew Max's linguistic habits well, understood that this was Max's way of expressing his concern.
There was reason to worry.
Many of Richard's colleagues were married and already had two or three children.
“What about you?”
Richard pointed his chin at Max.
“If you're still single, why should I?”
“Didn't I tell you before?”
Richard answered as he put down the knife.
Max looked at Richard with a questioning look.
“Max, I will not take a partner...
I do not want to pass on the suffering and injuries I went through to someone I love.
I do not want to show anyone that shameful photo of me cowering in front of my father...
This is a burden that I will carry alone for the rest of my life.”
He was firm, unlike Richard's habit.
For a moment, the atmosphere in the room became heavy.
Max also didn't say anything and was looking somewhere over the empty plate.
“I will look for a suitable child before I die and give him the title.”
“I thought it was a joke, but you were serious?”
"Max.
You know I'm not good at joking."
Richard replied with a tired smile.
“So what about me?”
“Max, live as you want, as you do now no matter what Father says.
I will stand here.”
“…And what about Therese?”
Richard paused for a moment, then looked into the void for a long time.
“Therese... our youngest....”
Richard buried his face in his hands as if in distress.
“…Max, I also do what I can within my means.”
“What are you doing?
I heard the news on the way.
They say that the reason Therese has no heir is because of her bad relationship with the prince.
They say that they may divorce soon!”
“This is not true!
Therese is doing her best for His Highness and His Highness is definitely doing the same and the couple’s relationship is something that no one from the outside knows about.”
Max suddenly jumped up and shouted.
"You're always like this!
You always say you're doing your best but in reality you're doing nothing!
You're putting all the responsibility on the helpless little one, and now you're pretending to be the victim."
“Max!”
Richard shouted.
But Max continued talking indifferently.
"Honestly, wasn't it good for you that my father's attention was directed towards Therese?
Because he was only beating her and chasing her.
Wasn't it comfortable for you to be away from my father?
And do you have the right to talk about suffering and injury?"
“Max, you crossed the line with those words.”
Richard said, frowning.
“I just told the truth.
Nothing has changed even after six years.
Not only this palace, but also you as you are.
I will go first.”
"Max!
Max!"
Max threw the napkin and left the dining room.
Richard sighed and buried his face in his hands like someone suffering.
Late at night.
A number of nobles gathered at the palace of Count Riedel.
They were nobles from the Old Nobles Party.
They slowly turned the playing cards around and played.
At that moment, someone opened his mouth.
“It is said that the execution of the Duke and Duchess of Priem will take place next week.”
The card-playing nobles frowned, as if they heard something they didn't want to hear.
“Why are you saying that here!”
Count Riddle suddenly shouted.
The Count's face was pale, perhaps from sleeplessness for several days.
“Have we not met to talk about this matter, Sir Count?”
Baron Fland, who was relatively young among them, responded sharply.
Count Riddle was dissatisfied, so he chewed the cigarette violently.
“So, if you have a plan, say it!”
Count Riedel, the second eldest in the party of old nobles after the Duke of Priem, was quick to anger.
Count Riddle was good at starting things, but not so good at handling them.
Even though that was Duke Prieme's specialty.
With the prime mover of the plot absent, the gathering was just a random crowd even with many people present.
The person who started speaking was also disappointed, so he looked at the audience with a sigh.
“A, don’t you think Duke Priem won’t mention us?”
It was an optimistic comment.
"N, yes!
We're not part of that rebellion…"
“Shut up, watch your words!”
A nobleman ordered reservations.
While collecting evidence about the heretical cult, private soldiers were also found in the palace of the Duke of Breaim, to which he was charged with planning a rebellion.
Given the way things were going, the other nobles quickly disposed of all relevant materials and withdrew.
It seemed as if the Duke of Priem was orchestrating the rebellion alone.
“Anyway, he would have done it, but he wouldn't have worshiped the heresy, would he?”
"correct."
Count Riddle nodded.
“Then we are not at all connected to this Duke of Priem case.”
“Well done.
I have served him all my life.”
When one noble spoke, other nobles added.
“And I cannot be excluded either!
My family is famous for making the largest number of sacrifices to the temple inside the capital.”
“N, yes, me too.
In fact, the son of my fifth-degree relative’s wife’s neighbor is a priest.”
“My fifth-degree relative’s wife’s neighbor’s son, isn’t that someone else?”
“B, it's close!
We know him...”
“Whew.”
When everyone suddenly began to compete over how deep their faith was, Count Riddle smiled mockingly.
"Anyway!
We're not related to this, isn't that what you all mean?"
Count Riddle asked as he looked at those present.
"naturally."
Count Riddle nodded.
“However, everyone should be careful in their actions for a while.
The atmosphere in the capital is tense these days.”
said Baron Fland.
“Yes, it is said that there are those demanding the king’s abdication in the capital recently...”
"His Majesty?
Why?"
inquired Count Riedel, who was hearing this news for the first time.
“Don't you know?”
"On what?"
Baron Fland lowered his voice and said:
“Rumors are spreading that His Majesty has worshiped heresy.”
"What?"
“It is said that he negotiated with the temple and stopped the matter with money.”
“Oh…”
Count Riedel stared at Baron Fland in amazement, forgetting he had even chewed his cigarette.
“Huh, is this really true?”
Count Riddle stammered without realizing it.
“I don’t know if it’s true or not, but the problem is that these rumors are spreading in the capital.”
Count Riddle swallowed.
Baron Fland continued:
“But public opinion tends towards it being real and furthermore...there are those who claim that the source of the wealth he presented in the negotiations with the temple was the public treasury.”
“Public treasury?”
“It is said that he gave the negotiation money as public funds to the state, and not as personal property of the king, of course.
These are all just unconfirmed rumours.”
Baron Fland smiled and reassured Count Riddle.
“It is impossible for His Majesty to do that, right?
The entire Valois lands lie with His Majesty, so he must always calculate everything carefully.”
The people looked at Baron Fland in silence, neither approving nor disapproving.
“N, yes.
It is impossible for His Majesty to do that.”
Count Riddle nodded.
But what if that were true...
Count Riddle's body trembled.
Suddenly, he woke up as if he had fallen into cold water.
“Now that it's late at night, everyone should go home.”
When Count Riedel quickly issued the order to leave, the nobles looked on with confused expressions and returned to their palaces.
In the quiet room after everyone had gone, Count Riddle lost himself in his thoughts.
If that's true, who will become the next king?
If the king, without appointing a crown prince, is forced to abdicate the throne.
Count Riedel was not skilled at calculations.
But his intuition was strong.
That's why he lived for decades as a second person among the capital's nobility, deceitful like snakes.
His keen instinct was telling him:
If the king abdicates, the next king will be the first prince.
We should definitely make the Second Prince appointed Crown Prince before then.
Otherwise, everything we have built so far will fail.
Baron Fland remembered Count Riddle's pale face in his carriage, and laughed, "Hehehe."
“Why are you laughing, Sir Baron?”
His servant sitting opposite him looked at him and said.
“Because I remembered something funny, Alan.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Who does he think will become the next king?”
“...tough question.”
Alan said as if he was in trouble.
"Really?
Then let's change the question to who should become king?"
“Well, in that case...”
“You can speak freely.”
Alan swallowed, then replied:
“The First Prince, it seems...”
“Don't you?
Even you think so.”
Pierre smiled as he looked out the window.
Pierre Fland.
He was a young man who had not yet inherited the title after the sudden death of his father, the former Baron.
He was relatively young even within the Old Nobles Party.
He was raised as an only son to inherit the title from a young age.
But there is a difference between theory and practice.
When his father, the former Baron, died suddenly due to illness, he faced limits.
The first was the limits of his own abilities, and the second was the limits of the stigma of belonging to the Old Nobles Party.
“The world is changing.”
Of course, that might have been the right answer under his father.
But not now.
This is the wrong answer.
Pierre came to a decision.
Unlike his father, he decided to support the First Prince.