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Even if someone tried to object, they couldn't. This was because she held the birth certificate verified by Archbishop Victor.
In fact, Archbishop Victor had brought Iris Achen before the Emperor to raise the issue of the Achen Ducal House's legitimacy. That was only a month ago.
Everyone's eyes widened at the rapidly changing situation.
‘Prince Elio is really going to get desperate now.’
Consequently, people were subtly flocking to align themselves with Grand Duke Lacheize.
“Viscount Low wants to use that excuse to marry his daughter to Your Highness's right-hand man.”
“I see.”
“If that weren't the case, he wouldn't have made something that could be a weakness for his daughter so public.”
Grand Duke Lacheize snorted.
“So he's just nailing it down. What a waste.”
Pepin shrugged again.
“Once the fact that Sir Norwich married Iris Achen becomes known, the Ducal Palace will turn into a marketplace.”
It wasn't unexpected. Naturally, Grand Duke Lacheize's decision to marry Rahan to Iris Achen was based on high-level political calculations.
In the current situation, it would be very easy for the Grand Duke to move if the Achen Elector's house was overturned, or even if they just flinched for a moment.
Not only that.
Rahan was the son of the Norwich family. Though he had been abandoned, it was a fact. If it became known that the two had married, how would the Norwich family react?
At the very least, they wouldn't oppose it. It meant they had a connection not only to Prince Elio but to this side as well.
Grand Duke Lacheize muttered.
“No matter how I think about it, deciding to raise him when I was eighteen was a great move.”
Twenty-two years ago, when the Margrave Norwich—famous for being a bastard—died, the iron-willed Countess Norwich held a grand banquet roasting twenty hens and fifty-seven goats, despite being pregnant.
She gave birth three days after the banquet, and upon seeing the bright red eyes of the son she had borne, she fainted.
The Norwich Margraviate was barren, and superstition ran rampant.
A child with red eyes. Was that not a color only a magical beast would have?
It was a natural progression that she threw Rahan Norwich away after waking from her faint.
The one who took Rahan in then was the eighteen-year-old Princess Yvette, who had gone to offer condolences for the death of Margrave Norwich. Saying that ‘Eridrahan loves even the sinful lives,’ she declared she would take Rahan with her.
Of course, there was a calculation involved.
At the time, Prince Elio was barely two years old. Princess Yvette found Prince Elio, who appeared as another obstacle after the first prince, to be extremely irritating.
If she were to challenge the throne, she had to secure as many means as possible. And she did not doubt that the boy would become her key.
And that calculation had worked out perfectly.
But now, she hoped that news would travel slowly. Grand Duke Lacheize grumbled, taking a sip of the tea Pepin had poured again.
“If anyone comes up with a solution for the Potato Blight, let them into the Ducal Palace first.”
“What about Sir Norwich and Miss Achen? Shouldn't you protect them in the Grand Duchy?”
“Not right now.”
Pepin looked puzzled.
There were several reasons why Grand Duke Lacheize did not immediately bring Rahan and Iris Achen to the Grand Duchy for protection, even after arranging their marriage.
If it were simply the stigma of interfering in the Achen family's internal affairs out of greed for the throne, Grand Duke Lacheize would not have hesitated to call them to the Grand Duchy.
But now was not the time. The Potato Blight had broken out in the Grand Duchy.
Potatoes had saved the people of the Foldenbach continent from the Great Famine twenty years ago. Since they had even earned the nickname ‘Eridrahan's Pebbles,’ it was obvious how much joy they brought to starving people.
Although the Grand Duchy of Lacheize was wealthy, that was thanks to the spices and goods from Til Nebe Cedric brought in through expeditions.
In terms of pure land, the Grand Duchy was not particularly fertile. Potatoes were, naturally, a primary crop.
And now, the Potato Blight.
“What about the other territories?”
“That... is a bit of a headache.”
Pepin reported that, unfortunately, droughts and plagues were frequently occurring in other territories as well, and food supplies were not flowing smoothly.
“Don't plagues usually circulate in midsummer?”
“Indeed.”
“At this rate, even the mages will start appearing.”
The other Electorates were all in bad shape.
If only it were a lie. Grand Duke Lacheize sighed.
“Securing food is the priority, so release the spices cheaply. Use Archbishop Victor as well.”
“Yes.”
If rumors spread that she was playing games with the throne at a time like this, it would be extremely difficult to secure food from other territories.
“I suppose the only thing I can tell Rahan is to enjoy his honeymoon.”
At the Grand Duke's words, Pepin bowed his head.
* * *
Unfortunately, contrary to Grand Duke Lacheize's wishes, there was one place where the rumors spread far too early.
Naturally, it was the Achen Ducal House.
“What is the meaning of this!”
Since the Achen Ducal territory was far from the Grand Duke's territory, it should have taken a considerable amount of time for Herbert Achen to hear the news. It was a distance that took ten days just for a carrier pigeon to fly.
However, through some means, Herbert heard the story that his son had his bride stolen right before the wedding. And in bed, no less.
“That idiot son of a...”
The mistress in the Duke's bed quietly put on her clothes and slipped out of the room.
Regardless, the elderly Duke with his thinning beard trembled violently before grabbing a vase next to his bed and hurling it.
Crash!
A vase, priced so high that a commoner could not afford it even after working for decades, shattered absurdly. Of course, Herbert didn't stop there.
“Damn it!”
The Duke rose from the bed and threw whatever objects he could get his hands on. Since this was a common occurrence, the servants didn't even dare peek into the Duke's room.
Instead, he was comforted by a mysterious voice.
[My apologies. Please, calm yourself.]
“Do I look like I can calm down right now!”
Herbert roared, shouting toward the bed.
“What is that moron Philod doing right now!”
[He is asleep.]
“Asleep? He can sleep? Now? And you just left him be!”
[My apologies. How could this humble servant lay a hand on the son of His Grace, Duke Achen?]
There was a hint of amusement in the voice. Herbert gnashed his teeth and glared at the bed.
There was no one left on the bed since the mistress had fled.
However, there was a large mirror atop the bed. The voice was coming from inside that mirror.
Normally, this would be impossible. It was something that could not happen unless it was magic borrowing the power of a demon.
If Archbishop Victor saw this, he would be horrified and excommunicate Duke Achen.
But this was the Achen Ducal Palace, and specifically, the Duke's innermost chamber. There was no way Archbishop Victor, far away in the Great Cathedral, would know.
Herbert replied in a voice full of rage.
“To whom exactly was Iris Achen stolen?”
[It seems to be someone you know well.]
“What?”
He soon learned that his niece had been kidnapped just before the wedding, and that the kidnapper was the profligate of the Grand Duchy of Lacheize, Rahan Norwich.
[Surprisingly, I heard that the man kidnapped your niece after fleeing to clear himself of the charges of injuring Grand Duke Lacheize.]
“Damn it all... Could the Grand Duke be playing a trick?”
[I wondered if Grand Duke Lacheize's injury was a lie, so I looked into it. She really is wearing an eye patch. Her consciousness seems clear, however.]
Some might wonder how he could find out about events in the Grand Duchy of Lacheize, millions of cubits away, so instantaneously.
But Herbert knew very well that the man in the mirror he employed had the ability to do so, and that he was not one to lie about such things.
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