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If the Grand Duke's injury were a lie, he would have been certain that Grand Duke Lacheize had sabotaged his son's second marriage and would have protested.
But since Grand Duke Yvette Lacheize was truly injured, protesting blindly became a headache.
“The wedding night?”
[The Empress's ladies-in-waiting have recognized the consummation.]
If that were the case, the marriage had truly taken place. Herbert frowned.
“Rahan Norwich, huh.”
If Grand Duke Lacheize had chosen him, it was a truly brilliant selection.
The second son abandoned by the Margrave Norwich family. But at the same time, because he was a son of Norwich, it was a headache for Herbert to take reckless action. After all, they were allies in supporting Prince Elio.
‘I should write a letter to Countess Norwich.’
Thinking this, Herbert asked again.
“What about Rahan Norwich?”
[Well. Since he is currently in a state of exile, it seems he will stay quietly in that countryside for the time being.]
Of course, that wasn't the answer Herbert was looking for. Noticing the old man's eyes grow fierce, the entity in the mirror chuckled.
[No matter who we are, we cannot discern the inner thoughts of a human.]
“...I'm asking if it's certain that he has fallen out with Grand Duke Lacheize.”
[That is also difficult to determine right this moment.]
Damn it, he acted all-knowing a moment ago. What on earth can you actually do?
Herbert felt so frustrated he wanted to pluck out his own beard. As if sensing his inner turmoil, the entity in the mirror apologized lightly.
[My apologies. Had we been by Lord Philod's side, we could have prevented the kidnapping marriage, but since the location is a monastery...]
Monastery, that damn monastery!
“Damn you, Eridrahan!”
Herbert shouted, gnashing his teeth. In any case, those who believed in God had never been of any help in his life. Wasn't the place where the previous Duchess Achen smuggled away her daughter also a monastery of the Church of Eridrahan?
[That is why I would like to make a proposal.]
It was then that the entity in the mirror spoke. Herbert narrowed his eyes.
“What is it?”
[I was thinking of testing those things I mentioned before.]
Herbert knew very well what ‘those things’ meant. And what implications they carried.
In the current situation, if those things moved successfully, Herbert would not even need to worry about Countess Norwich.
‘Hmm.’
It had been over twenty years since Herbert began interacting with the entity in the mirror.
Of course, he had discovered the existence of ‘them’ even longer ago. ‘They’ were beings shunned by the Empire, those with no place to stand.
What Herbert gained in exchange for providing them with food and shelter was the title of Duke and the position of Elector.
And until now, Herbert had been quite satisfied with them. Not only had he gained the trust of Prince Elio, but they had also played a part in keeping Grand Duke Lacheize in check.
“Fine. Do as you say.”
[I should tell you in advance that the probability of success is actually slim. The abbot there can declare a Sanctuary.]
“Ah. So the old dog still has some bite.”
It had been nearly a hundred years since the Wind Rock Monastery had declined, but it seemed its legacy still endured. To be able to declare a Sanctuary of Eridrahan.
“But they can at least be warned. And we can give those things a taste of bitterness.”
[Of course, since it is a place where we have accumulated long-standing grudges, we intend to put in the effort.]
The entity smiled thinly. Only then did Herbert feel a bit better.
“The reason you are moving there isn't just because of a grudge.”
Herbert remembered that the entity had seemed pleased when the location was revealed to be the Wind Rock Monastery. He could understand that. The Wind Rock Monastery was the place where their oldest grudges were piled high.
But he also knew that wasn't the only reason.
So, Herbert teased him. The entity laughed softly.
[It is simply a matter of killing two birds with one stone.]
Herbert threatened.
“Whether it's the second bird or the third, make sure you catch the first one.”
[Of course.]
The other party answered readily. It didn't matter what those people did.
As long as their own objective was met.
* * *
“Iris, Iris! Are you there?”
Iris snapped her eyes open.
Thump, thump—the sound of someone knocking on the door. A familiar, high-pitched voice.
However, what she saw was an unfamiliar ceiling. It took her a moment of hesitation before she realized she was in the field-hand's cottage.
‘That's right. I got married yesterday... no, the day before yesterday.’
Glancing out the window, she saw the sunlight pouring in. She was certain she had closed it tight before sleeping last night; her husband must have opened it.
She hurried to get up, glancing toward the loft. To her surprise, the loft was empty.
‘Where did he go?’
Of course, she had no time to investigate. Someone was waiting for her outside the door.
Iris quickly stood up, roughly gathering her hair into a tie, and opened the door. Standing there was exactly who she had expected.
“Auntie Laura!”
“Iris!”
The middle-aged woman who hugged Iris back was the owner of the village general store, a woman with a very pleasant impression.
Plump in build, her cheeks—which were always flushed—were even redder today. She smiled brightly, patted Iris on the shoulder, and then stepped back to look Iris over from head to toe.
“Did you sleep well? Abbot Wilbert asked me to come check on you!”
“I slept great! Oh, Robbie!”
Iris greeted the young man standing behind Laura, who was sulking while leading two goats.
It was Robbie, the village chief's son. With his brown hair swept back carelessly, Robbie gave a curt nod.
“Hey, Iris. These are...”
Laura was faster than Robbie's words, pushing past Iris and stepping into the house.
“How was the first night for the newlyweds? Where's your husband?!”
The face of Robbie, who had been trying to look cool while standing in the doorway, contorted. But Laura didn't care.
“I heard he's a wonderful man, right?”
Laura had known Iris for a very long time.
Since she ran the general store in Vandel, she provided the monastery with daily necessities and even helped with simple chores.
Naturally, she knew the monastery's circumstances and every nook and cranny inside out. That was why she had been inwardly worried about Iris.
‘To think that girl is getting married!’
Since childhood, Iris had been exceptionally eye-catching—cute, lovely, and kind.
She was enough to melt even the heart of Laura, who used to scoff that a parentless girl in the countryside being lovely only meant she'd have a miserable fate.
If she hadn't been Abbot Wilbert's adopted daughter, the wicked boys in the village would have tried their tricks long ago.
However, the situation took a strange turn when it was suddenly revealed that Iris was the daughter of a prestigious family.
Abbot Wilbert didn't disclose which family she belonged to. He only said that because she was the daughter of a good house, Iris, who had intended to become a priestess, had to give up her path and marry.
It was baffling enough that she had to marry, but to marry some old man!
For the record, when Laura saw the old man who was the groom while helping out on the wedding day, she nearly vomited in his face.
‘He looks ten years older than me! Shouldn't they be building a coffin instead of having a wedding?’
She had whispered such things to the other village women.
But God existed in this world.
Some hulking fellow had kidnapped Iris right before the wedding.
‘Philod Ahen! From this day forward, Iris Achen shall be my wife!’
When that remarkably handsome rogue, who looked the part even from a distance, shouted in a booming voice while riding a horse with Iris slung over his shoulder in a sack, Laura—the first to grasp the situation—almost stood up and applauded.
Of course, she quickly crouched back down upon seeing the knights rushing out, shouting, “Catch that man!”
‘Oh my, oh my, what now? Does this mean Iris can't be the lady of a noble house anymore?’
‘I heard he's a thug from out of town.’
There was much talk in Vandel regarding Iris's marriage. It was only natural, as about twenty people from the village had been mobilized to help with the wedding that day.
But Laura just snorted.
‘Hmph! Thug or not, he's a hundred times better than that old geezer!’
Laura had been married three times, and the most miserable period had been her first marriage to an older man.
Of course, this perspective was possible because she had received a subtle hint from Abbot Wilbert that the groom was the Abbot's own choice.
‘But she could have become a noble's wife!’
Naturally, there were those who vented their frustration like that.
Specifically, Robbie, who was currently gulping down alcohol at the tavern.
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