11.
For Benedict, the fact that his younger twin brother had been chosen by the Princess and ascended to the rank of Duke was an agonizing sting.
‘Damn luncheon…!’
He ground his teeth every time he thought of it.
The ‘luncheon,’ held regularly each season by the Empress, was a tedious affair, a place where one was expected to do little more than chime in with the vapid chatter of elderly ladies. Benedict, having been completely drained after escorting his mother a few times, had charitably ‘delegated’ that duty to his brother, Rowan.
It was during that first luncheon, the one Rowan attended with their mother, that the young Princess made her appearance. Princess Jeremiah had emerged to greet the ladies before her official social debut.
‘If I had been the one to go, it would have been me marrying the Princess!’
Smitten at first sight by Rowan, Jeremiah had openly displayed her feelings, and the House of Kingsley had unexpectedly found itself with a second son as a royal consort. Because the husband of Jeremiah, the apple of the Imperial Family’s eye, could not be a mere ‘second son of a Viscount,’ the late Emperor granted Rowan a dukedom.
Of course, the true master of that dukedom was Jeremiah. But as they say, the position makes the man, and Rowan had gradually grown into someone worthy of the title he was given.
“That dukedom is nothing more than a hollow shell. Look at him. Didn’t he end up returning as a corpse after failing to resist the Emperor’s request to go to the battlefield?”
Benedict tried hard to act as if he were unbothered. However, he could not help but covet the lucrative business rights monopolized by the dukedom.
“What matters to us is practical gain. Cedric is a mere twenty-five-year-old greenhorn. If we handle him well, we can wield the power of the dukedom in his stead.”
“He seemed quite slick for his age, didn’t he?”
“It’s just an act. He suddenly found himself burdened with a dukedom after rolling around on the battlefield—there’s no way he doesn’t feel pressured. We must seize this opening.”
Just as the father and son were eyeing each other with calculating greed, a stir occurred at the entrance, and Cedric Kaylas revealed himself.
Benedict, as if he had never been grinding his teeth, put on a delighted expression and hurried down the stairs.
“Cedric! You came!”
“Uncle.”
Cedric gave a short nod. Even as he considered the gesture insolent, Benedict had no choice but to acknowledge him.
‘He really is an eye-catching fellow. I suppose the Imperial bloodline is different after all.’
The blonde hair inherited from his mother was dazzling, and his auburn eyes—known as the ‘Red Eyes’—were equally bewitching. Yet, neither his hair nor his eyes defined him; he was, in and of himself, unparalleled.
It had been that way since he was a child. He commanded a room without saying more than a few words, knew how to express anger with a smile, and did not easily grant access to anyone. Even so, everyone wanted to share at least a word with him.
So, even without today’s gathering, he would always be the protagonist. Any house or person that Cedric favored would receive immediate attention; now that he held a dukedom, it was certain that any business partner he recognized would become the talk of the town.
That was exactly what Benedict was aiming for.
‘Yes, I am not fawning over him. I am using him.’
There were countless concessions held by the House of Kaylas. If he could exert influence over those interests, the status of the House of Kingsley would undoubtedly rise higher than that of the hollow dukedom.
With his hand firmly on Cedric’s back, Benedict introduced him to his close acquaintances. He had deliberately dressed in a style Rowan used to prefer, and it was enough to spark the illusion, at first glance, that Rowan had returned from the dead.
“Seeing you like this, you and the Viscount Kingsley look so much alike. But then again, you are twin brothers with the late Duke, so I suppose that’s only natural? Haha!”
“Indeed. It is truly heartbreaking that the late Duke passed away, but having Viscount Kingsley here must be a comfort to you as well, Duke.”
Benedict’s acquaintances repeated the fact that the two looked alike, as if they had coordinated their lines beforehand. Cedric merely nodded, wearing a smile that was clearly for the sake of courtesy. Then, as if his patience for them had reached its end, he changed the subject.
“My apologies for interrupting, Uncle, but I’ve been working all afternoon and haven’t even managed to drink a glass of water.”
It was a moment that left Benedict, who had dragged him around without offering a single drop, feeling sheepish.
“Ah, good heavens! Forgive my absent-mindedness. I was just so glad to see you…”
“Being the host of a party is a chaotic task. I understand. Please, don’t mind me and continue your conversation. I’m going to go quench my thirst.”
Having made his exit naturally, Cedric strode toward the beverage table where champagne was nestled in an ice bucket. No one dared to approach him easily as he pulled out a bottle himself. To approach a noble of higher rank required either an introduction or a clear purpose. While there were exceptions, since the person in question was none other than Cedric Kaylas, people could only anxiously hope to catch his eye.
Knowing this well, Cedric didn’t cast a glance at anyone, simply downing the chilled champagne.
‘My uncle has put quite a lot of effort into this party.’
The level of champagne left out for the taking was quite excellent. Only then did he glance at the vintage: Rousseau Blair, ‘53. It was clear that the half-wit hadn’t been the one to pick it. Since he hadn’t had a drop to drink all afternoon, it tasted even better.
Just as he was washing down his stifling frustration, he felt a presence behind him. He was curious as to who the bold soul was who dared to ignore the boundaries he had set, but he did not turn around.
“Excuse me.”
The person who stepped up beside him to nonchalantly pour a glass of champagne was a young woman. She was ordinary at first glance, her thick blonde hair pinned up, wearing a striped-print dress of the current fashion.
However, Cedric suspected she was anything but ordinary. And as expected.
“Oh! Your Excellency, Duke Kaylas!”
Her look of surprise, as if she had only just realized his identity, looked innocent enough to be completely convincing. Cedric merely gave a casual nod but did not speak. As he had expected, she hesitated before opening her mouth.
“I… I didn’t know I would see you in a place like this, but if I ever ran into you, I really wanted to apologize once more.”
Only then did Cedric turn his gaze toward her.
“Once more? Have we met before?”
A flash of embarrassment crossed the woman’s face, but she smiled immediately. She looked troubled—or rather, she seemed to wish to appear so.
“I should have introduced myself first; it was rude of me. I am Bella Listerwell. We met at the victory banquet last May… when, well, my cousin stole your brooch and wore it…”
“Ah, the House of Listerwell.”
A memory he had forgotten was dragged out once again. Was this really something that needed to be mentioned so frequently? It was not particularly pleasant. A scandal that drew more attention than his own father’s death.
“As I said back then…”
“Of course, Your Excellency was very merciful. You have no idea how grateful my father is to you. As for my cousin who caused the trouble, we have sent her to a convent in penance.”
Cedric lowered his eyes toward his champagne glass. In front of him, Bella lowered her head with a sorrowful expression. She didn’t bow so low that her face was obscured, and she didn’t forget to pull her shoulders slightly forward to make her cleavage and ruby necklace stand out.
“What happened that day was not the intention of our family, and we couldn’t have dared to foresee it. However, I have no intention of making excuses for what happened, and I feel the full weight of the responsibility. I sincerely apologize.”
Her hands, tightly clasped, were slender. Her neatly groomed nails and fingers, showing almost no wrinkles, told him she had never done any labor beyond holding a teapot.
Cedric set the remaining champagne on the table and repeated the words he had been blocked from saying earlier.
“I told you clearly back then that I hoped we would never have to cross paths because of something like this again.”
At his cold tone, Bella jerked her head up in surprise. She hadn’t misheard him; Cedric was, at this moment, viewing her with visible displeasure.
“Oh… I thought you meant you hoped we wouldn’t have to cross paths because of such an unsightly incident…”
“I am the one who defines the category of an unsightly incident. And this current conversation falls into that category.”
Cedric turned away without a shred of regret in front of the stunned Bella, muttering to himself.
“So that’s why the Viscount Listerwell was so insistent on sending his niece to the convent.”