It wasn't without reason that Calix Benvito had chosen Asella Charts as his companion. There were purposes behind every decision. Everything was already in place—all that remained was to set the process in motion at the appropriate time.
However, at this moment, Raizen didn't quite understand the Archduke.
He opened his mouth cautiously. "Your Highness, if this happens, Mariel Charts will lose her status. When a person changes family, the family name disappears. Her standing could be reduced to that of a commoner."
"Her biological father was Cloud Loktrin," Calix answered with apparent indifference.
Adele's first husband, Charts, had been the sole heir to the Viscountship of Loktrin. However, he had fallen deeply in love with Adele and married her, adopting the Charts family name. Since he had voluntarily renounced his bloodline, he possessed no right of inheritance.
That was the law.
However, the Loktrin family suffered from a complex genetic disorder. It appeared without warning, claiming many members before their time. Cloud had also died young from this affliction.
Nineteen years had passed since Cloud married Adele. During that span, the head of House Loktrin had changed four times. Currently, no heirs remained—the last had perished the previous year. Yet the title and family name of the Viscounts of Loktrin had not been erased from the state registers. The lineage would only be extinguished if no heir was identified within a year. Only then would all holdings and property revert to the imperial treasury.
"Mariel Charts is a direct relative of the Loktrins. But she is too young to become head of the family." The prince's voice remained measured. "According to imperial law, the head of a noble house must be a man or woman who has reached eighteen years of age. If the heir is a minor, a guardian is required."
"But who will serve as her guardian?"
A guardian could be either a blood relative or a person legally recognized as family. This was the law—designed to protect heirs from outsiders eager to seize property that wasn't theirs.
"You know this person. And they will be the ideal guardian."
Raizen considered for a moment, then raised his eyebrows.
"Did I understand you correctly, Your Highness?" He was now thoroughly confused.
By law, a guardian became the full head of the family. This had been the case with Philip Charts, for example. And if Asella became Mariel's guardian, she would also become head of House Loktrin.
This was something absolutely unacceptable to any of the previous Grand Duchesses. However, this woman had been trained by Adele herself. And although she hadn't been able to complete that training fully, the experience could easily be supplemented in the future.
Raizen swallowed dryly. He dreaded to even imagine his master's ultimate intentions.
"But will the Emperor permit it? More importantly—it disrupts all our existing plans."
"All we do is remove the child from the custody of the Charts family."
"But doesn't the Emperor monitor the emergence of abilities in the younger sister?"
"Yes." A bitter edge crept into Calix's voice. "I know Fernando was quite amused by my marriage. Apparently, the Emperor was in a foul mood when he dispatched ambassadors with his congratulations." He spoke the name with caustic sarcasm. "As far as I'm aware, Fernando seizes every opportunity to weaken the Temple's position. He pressures from all directions—constantly turning the nobility against the clergy."
The Imperial Temple wielded enormous power, and its policies perpetually clashed with the ambitions of the imperial house. It was a thorn embedded deep in the side of secular authority. But the Charts family—said to have been blessed by the goddess Hernia herself—had been inseparable from the Temple. Now that Philip had assumed complete control, that sacred connection was utterly severed.
"Your Highness, Mariel is being watched. It's not yet clear whether she'll develop abilities, but imperial agents have been tracking her for a month."
Calix's red eyes turned glacial.
"They're merely Fernando's dogs. Ensure none of them cross the principality's border."
"Yes, Your Highness." Raizen bowed politely. "Should I give them a sign?"
He meant: *Should he alert the Emperor that his trackers had been discovered?*
"Of course." Calix's lips curved into a sardonic grin.
It was clear that Fernando already knew about Mariel Charts's departure from the estate. There was no reason for caution. On the contrary—it was better to demonstrate immediately that the girl now stood under the protection of House Benvito.
---
_"Please send Mariel to the Academy."_
Her quiet voice surfaced unbidden in his mind.
Calix gazed thoughtfully out the window. Behind all this activity, dusk had deepened unnoticed, and complete darkness now blanketed the grounds. They were probably finished packing by now.
_"Promise me you'll keep your word."_
The desperation in those blue eyes had been unmistakable. Those eyes—the eyes of a woman left with no choices, now entirely at his mercy. They had trembled so visibly, appeared so fragile.
Calix turned from the window and moved silently toward the door.
"Your Highness! Where are you going?"
Calix, who had already reached for the doorknob, paused momentarily. Raizen couldn't believe what he was seeing. The prince's usually severe lips relaxed in a strange way, and a faint smile crossed his face.
But it lasted only an instant.
"Bring my umbrella."
Raizen blinked in surprise and studied his master's retreating form. The Archduke's expression had returned to its customary inscrutability.
"Prepare yourself. It will likely rain tonight."
"Yes, Your Highness."
The door slammed shut.
Raizen stared at it for a long moment, trying to process what he had just witnessed. *I must have imagined it. Of course—I've endured far too much this month. I'm overtired. I need rest.*
And yet.
*What was that?*
Raizen had served Calix for several years. Of certain things, he was absolutely certain. His master was not an emotional man. The Grand Duke's gaze remained perpetually cold—like a glacier untouched for a thousand years. Calix Benvito was handsome, but cold and cruel. This ruthless, meticulous nature suited him perfectly.
*But... what if I wasn't imagining it?*
Raizen swallowed the lump forming in his throat.
*I can't explain it, but something is definitely different about him.*
---
## — Outside Asella's Door —
The man paused for a second before the door to Asella's room. Then he stopped the servant who was about to knock.
"No need. Leave."
"Yes, Your Highness," the servant replied, somewhat bewildered.
"When they emerge, inform them the carriage is ready." He issued the order curtly, then turned and walked back down the corridor.
His red eyes narrowed suddenly.
*Why did I even come here? What was the purpose of this useless action?*
Of course, she was his wife. But he had known this woman personally for less than a day. Today marked their first true exchange of words. No—just a few sentences. It could hardly be called a conversation.
Initially, Calix hadn't attached much importance to this marriage. The Grand Duchess's position shouldn't remain vacant. He had simply chosen the appropriate woman—selected based on her current value and potential future worth. He had paid the corresponding price.
That was all.
Naturally, he possessed no interest in the woman who would become his wife. Attention, trust, respect, affection—all the qualities that typically bound a couple were alien to him. What purpose did such emotions serve if they held no meaning, no practical necessity?
*But why?*
Why had he suddenly sought out this woman? How had such a strange notion even occurred to him?
He couldn't understand it.
---
## — Philip's Chambers —
Today had been Philip's worst day.
A nearly flawless reception—completely destroyed by that idiot Anthony. Philip was so exhausted from apologizing and scraping that a sickening, cloying taste seemed to coat his mouth.
And yet, looking at Anthony, he felt a deep, reluctant concern. The man was in such pitiful condition that scolding him seemed impossible. There was literally no unbruised spot on his body. His face had swollen beyond recognition. The priest had labored extensively just to alleviate his suffering.
"How is he?" Philip demanded impatiently.
"He'll recover fully—he simply requires several days of complete rest."
Just as Philip was exhaling with relief, an agitated butler burst into the room.
"Master! I must be dismissed!"
"What do you mean?"
"His Highness is departing tonight."
"What? Impossible!"
Philip rushed from the room, several servants scrambling in his wake.
*Had something else happened in the meantime? What if there were problems with Asella?*
The moment he spotted the Archduke, Philip hurried toward him, hastily arranging a false smile. Fortunately, the prince's face remained as inscrutable as ever. But it was too early for relief.
Attempting to appear friendly, Philip spoke: "Your Highness, I've been informed you plan to depart tonight. Surely not?"
But there was no response.
Philip's anxiety deepened. "Your Highness, why such haste? It's already completely dark. At least stay the night."
"In that vulgar room?" Calix interrupted, making clear he had no desire to discuss the matter further.
Philip's face tensed momentarily before he forced his expression into something more agreeable. He had to please the prince at all costs—otherwise Anthony would never see his title again.
"If anything is missing or required, please simply inform me."
"I don't tolerate deception, Philip Charts."
Philip blanched.
*Did he notice?*
The wedding night was traditionally spent in either the bride's room or one prepared specifically for the occasion. But Philip had chosen to simply redecorate Rebecca's bedroom. His mistress's chambers—disguised as Asella's.
This was considered a profound insult. The consequences could be severe.
Realizing the gravity of the situation, Philip sealed his lips as though they had been welded shut.
*When will this insufferable man finally leave me in peace?*
Calix wearily covered his eyes with one hand. The room he had been given was entirely unsuitable for this woman. He hadn't needed to dispatch anyone to gather information—it was obvious at a glance.
*It would have been better to spend the night in her wretched actual quarters. At least I wouldn't feel so contaminated now.*
The unpleasant sensation that had taken root in that strange bedroom continued to grow. He couldn't understand why he felt so unsettled. He couldn't even comprehend that this discontent was connected to Asella.
Finally, the prince directed his frustration toward his subordinates.
He issued orders and instructions in clipped tones. Then he commanded:
"When we return, assemble all the guards at the training ground."
The men exchanged uneasy glances. Due to their master's severe disposition, every soldier serving House Benvito lived under strict discipline. They couldn't dream of neglecting their duties or training. Nevertheless, on days when the Archduke himself sparred with them, they suffered tremendously. Many spent extended periods recovering from their injuries. In truth, no one could match his skill—and the prince's strength was simply monstrous.
"Your Highness, the carriage is prepared."
"Wait." Calix's gaze drifted toward Mariel's window once more.
The room on the second floor remained brightly lit. Faint shadows flickered across the windowpanes from time to time.
*Apparently, they're still packing.*
_"Please send Mariel to the Academy..."_
*Is it because they're the only blood relatives each other has?*
However, Calix had never felt much attachment to his own family. He possessed no brothers or sisters. His mother had succumbed to childbed fever mere days after his birth. His father had been cruel and emotionally distant—typical, incidentally, of Benvito men.
The head of House Benvito was traditionally merciless with everyone. Even his children received no exception. When his father lay on his deathbed, Calix had been on the battlefield. Though victory was already assured, he hadn't even considered returning to the principality to say farewell. Afterward, he received only a brief message from Raizen confirming the funeral had been properly conducted.
This was why the feelings this woman displayed toward her younger sister remained foreign to him.
After some time, the prince's red eyes narrowed. He noticed the light in the room had been extinguished.
Very soon, the door opened, and two slender figures emerged onto the illuminated porch. Gripping her younger sister's hand tightly, the woman peered into the darkness, spotted the carriage, and descended the stairs swiftly. Though she moved with haste and visible nervousness, her gait remained graceful—like the flowing current of a river.
However, Calix's keen eye detected distinct discomfort.
Asella approached along the wide cobblestone path and halted directly before him.
Her face was slightly flushed—further evidence of her hurry.
"I apologize for keeping you waiting," she said, somewhat breathless. "Mariel, you must greet His Highness."
"Good evening, Your Highness."
Calix nodded with reserve. Then his gaze dropped to the small suitcase in her hand.
The Marquis's daughter carried her own luggage. Not a single servant had thought to assist her.
Calix registered once again the position of these women within this family.
Noticing his pointed gaze, Raizen approached Asella. After a moment's hesitation, she relinquished her bag to him.
"Is that all you possess?"
"...Yes." Asella clearly didn't wish to elaborate.
To put it mildly, she had lived too simply. To put it bluntly, her circumstances were downright squalid.
Asella felt the heat of embarrassment rise to her cheeks. However, she had no choice but to accept her situation. Someone like Calix Benvito, accustomed to a life of luxury, would never understand.
But for some reason, he asked no further questions.
Instead, Calix's sharp gaze pierced the man who still stood awkwardly at a distance.
Philip flinched under that look, acutely aware of how damning the circumstances appeared. Somehow, nothing was proceeding as expected.
Cold contempt crossed Calix's features before his expression became impassive once more.
Only Raizen fully comprehended how furious his master truly was.
The Charts were a noble family of immense wealth. Even setting aside the refusal to pay a dowry—sending the woman away empty-handed? Judging by the suitcase's weight, it contained no jewelry, nothing to confirm her status. Just a few garments.
Moreover, no servants accompanied her. A bride of such standing would typically have an entire escort and several personal maids. The absence of any attendants indicated she had always been utterly alone.
*Wasn't it enough for him to have inherited his late wife's vast fortune? What a pathetic, grasping man. Consumed by petty self-interest, he manages to corrupt everything around him into filth.*
*Disgusting.*
At that moment, Raizen regretted that his master hadn't removed at least one of Anthony's hands.
But contrary to his secretary's wishes, Calix took no harsh action against these people. Instead, he commanded coldly:
"See the Grand Duchess to the carriage."
Raizen bowed his head politely. "Your Highness, if you would follow me."
Asella, increasingly unsettled by the oppressively heavy atmosphere, momentarily faltered. However, she quickly regained her composure.
"Mariel." She squeezed the girl's hand tightly.
The child nodded in response.
Asella followed Raizen. The prince's escort of guardsmen parted dramatically, revealing the waiting carriage. Plain in appearance, unadorned save for the Benvito coat of arms embossed in gold upon a purple background—yet the carriage was enormous, drawn by four magnificent horses. Its surface gleamed with impeccable polish, testament to the quality of the wood.
"I can manage myself. Could you assist Mariel instead?"
When Asella declined his help, Raizen responded with a gentle smile.
"Of course, Your Highness."
Mariel, leaning on his offered arm, placed her foot upon the large step and climbed gracefully inside.
A surprised gasp emerged from within the carriage.
"My God!"