26.
Early the morning after the interment ceremony.
“Lady Matilda. The Grand Duchess is calling for you.”
Matilda, who had been deeply engrossed in her reading, briskly made her way to the Grand Duchess’s parlor. She had attended the interment ceremony as the sister of the late Duke Edenbahir.
‘She called me just as I was getting bored.’
Lancelot, whom she hadn’t seen in two years, had grown beyond recognition. Yet, he remained unchanged in his insolence toward his elders—a trait inherited directly from his father.
And the woman glued to his side: Anita Boellony.
‘They said his father doted on her so much because he was terrified she’d catch the eye of some senile old man. Well, her face was certainly good for something.’
Only after seeing her did she finally understand the Grand Duchess’s agitation. The old woman had been furious, claiming the wicked girl was trying to swallow her grandson whole. Even to the Grand Duchess’s discerning eyes, she looked dangerously lovely.
However, the Grand Duchess was the only one among their kin who truly believed that Anita had ‘snared’ Lancelot. Even then, it was likely just a desire to add one more reason to revile her, fueled by simple spite.
The marriage between Lancelot and Anita Boellony carried heavy political implications. That was precisely why even the Grand Duchess could not actively prevent the union.
*Creeeak.*
“Good morning, Grand Duchess.”
Upon entering the parlor, Matilda offered her greetings first.
“You’ve come, my daughter.”
While the Grand Duchess prepared coffee, Matilda’s cousin, Norman, made no effort to hide his boiling rage. He flung a newspaper onto Matilda’s lap.
“Read this, Matilda! The reputation of Edenbahir has fallen to the ground. It hasn’t just fallen; it’s practically digging its way into the underworld!”
‘My, what an exaggerated way to speak.’
It seemed the blow Lancelot dealt him at yesterday’s ceremony still stung. Matilda clicked her tongue, but she did not refuse to read the paper.
The journals Norman had gathered were published that morning by three different agencies. Although the headlines varied, they all spotlighted the same incident.
All three newspapers detailed the current situation of the Callasgo Trust with unnerving precision. Even Matilda was impressed.
‘Detailed to this degree?’
The core facts were these:
One: If Vincent Boellony’s disappearance continues for more than thirty days, the investment management rights of the Callasgo Trust will pass to Anita Boellony, the only daughter of the Boellony family.
Two: For the rights to be fully delegated to her, she must receive the consent of three pre-determined judges.
Three: The identities of these judges remain undisclosed.
‘The judges are indeed the Grand Duchess’s headache.’
According to the Grand Duchess, she had demanded the list from Lancelot last night, but he had merely played dumb.
‘Is that really the truth? There is no way Ludwig wouldn’t have mentioned anything about the judges…’
While Matilda racked her brain, Norman’s hysteria only intensified.
“There are rumors that this is a scheme hatched between Edenbahir and the Boellonys! That boy Lancelot—he’s been far too reckless. He couldn’t even wait a month before getting married!”
Unable to endure it any longer, Matilda spoke up.
“Stop spewing such idiotic nonsense, Norman. Do you really think Lancelot didn’t know those facts? Isn’t it more likely he escalated things so we couldn’t take reckless action against Anita Boellony? God, where did you leave your common sense?”
Norman glared at her with wide, bloodshot eyes. To settle the matter, Count Malisgo, the Grand Duchess’s cousin, stepped in.
“Calm yourself, Norman. There is no need to get excited. More importantly, Grand Duchess, it seems the rumor that your relationship with Lancelot is estranged is spreading among the reporters. We should put pressure on the press to ensure it isn’t treated as mere gossip.”
“Yes, yes. That is correct. I think so too, Grand Duchess. Isn’t this all a consequence of the incompetent Ludwig inheriting the title?”
“Norman.”
Only after the Grand Duchess spoke did Norman shut his mouth. Matilda scoffed inwardly.
‘He’s nowhere near the line of succession, yet he acts as if he’s entitled to the throne.’
In truth, Norman loathed Ludwig more than anyone else in the room. He felt a deep, festering sense of inferiority toward him for becoming the head of the house, and that resentment was now being projected onto Lancelot.
It was also Norman who had led the efforts to treat Anita as if she didn’t exist at the interment ceremony.
[If we let this pass silently, Lancelot will only behave more willfully in the future! As his elders, we must let him know that Edenbahir does not belong to him alone. Since Lancelot is still young, we must guide him onto the right path!]
The fact that Lancelot—who lacked nothing in lineage, capability, or appearance—now had a weakness for them to exploit seemed to satisfy Norman even as it infuriated him.
‘Though he wouldn’t dare show it openly, given how the Grand Duchess treats Lancelot like her own child.’
“Matilda. Is what I asked you to do proceeding well?”
“Yes. I am narrowing down the suspected list of judges through those who were close to Vincent Boellony.”
Norman scoffed.
“A suspected list? What use is it to track more than ten people? You need to find the exact three!”
“Is it necessary to be exact? We can just dispose of every name on the list. If we eliminate even one, the investment management rights will dissolve into thin air. Shut your idiotic trap.”
The list was a death list of sorts. For Anita Boellony to be delegated the management rights, the consent of the three judges was mandatory. If even one consent form couldn’t be obtained, her authority would be subject to re-evaluation.
“You are right, Matilda. We must be quick, but there is no need to be impatient. You shouldn’t act like a dog that needs to relieve itself, Norman.”
“But Grand Duchess! If Lancelot succeeds to the title…”
“Lancelot is still young. We can slowly bleed out the rebellious spirit he caught from Ludwig.”
The Grand Duchess, who had poured herself a fresh cup of coffee, narrowed her eyes into thin slits.
“How incompetent his father was, loyal to the royal family like a dog while ignoring the identity of Edenbahir… we just need to help him realize that naturally. Before long, he will realize our choice was the right one.”
*Huhu.* A low laugh escaped her lips, brimming with a twisted, possessive affection.
“Look. Even the strategy he put forward is amateurish. If we tie Anita Boellony to Edenbahir, it is no loss to us. Lancelot has effectively locked the girl in a cage himself.”
‘Amateurish, she says.’
The Grand Duchess saw Lancelot as a child. Matilda understood her desire to love her grandson, but she sometimes found the Grand Duchess’s unconditional affection a little unsettling.
“You speak the truth. There are many ways to prevent a pregnancy. Without a child, divorce is just as easy as marriage.”
Count Malisgo, who had seconded the Grand Duchess, added in a cryptic tone, “However… about Lancelot. He is just as bloodless and emotionless now as he was as a child. To think he would go all the way to Buedort to fetch Anita Boellony as if he had been waiting for his father to die.”
At the regretful tone, the Grand Duchess’s smile only deepened.
“That is why he is more special. Isn’t that proof that he has inherited the blood of Nuaza more strongly than anyone else?”
At the mention of Nuaza, the room fell into a heavy, expectant silence.
“Well, if you say so, sister…”
“For the most powerful descendant of Nuaza to bow his head to the Montebio royal family. That is something that absolutely cannot be allowed.”
No one could stand above Edenbahir.
The Grand Duchess, having expressed that sentiment firmly, poured fresh coffee into Matilda’s empty cup. The liquid was the color of the deep, dark brown in the Grand Duchess’s eyes.