Duke Vandermir lit a cigar. It was already his third one. He inhaled deeply and exhaled the smoke.

Smoke curled up from between his lips, but inside he still felt tight and suffocated.

The atmosphere in the Vandermir ducal house had been gloomy since the death of their only heir. While the duke was deeply saddened by the loss of his son, he had an even greater worry.

What would become of the Vandermir duchy from now on?

He had no other children to inherit. Demian existed but didn’t really count, as he was Monica’s son, not his own to begin with.

If the duke were to die without an heir, someone from a collateral branch would inherit the family. Or Demian would somehow grasp the duke’s position in his hands.

‘The collateral branch would be better. I must prevent Demian no matter what…!’

But contrary to the duke’s wishes, Demian had managed to return victorious from the northern war.

The duke grew anxious. He and his family were still intact, but there was no guarantee it would stay that way. Meanwhile, even Frederick was acting lukewarm and keeping his distance.

He favored the Lester duchy and kept them close, while treating the Vandermir duchy carelessly.

‘Ungrateful brat! After all the money I spent on him!’

He had bought weapons with his own money when told it was needed. He had shown unwavering loyalty even after Marquis Grant’s downfall.

The crown prince, who had been warm until Demian’s punishment, turned cold starting in spring as if their business was finished. Of course, he wasn’t completely snubbing the duke.

However, he showed an attitude just disappointing enough to make one feel alienated. The duke instinctively sensed that the crown prince was lowering their priority and preparing to discard them if needed.

‘He must think our family has no future. Such a young fox…’

There was still the option of adopting one of his nephews or having a new child, but the duke was somewhat skeptical.

For the former, there was a high chance they would act loyal at first but backstab him once they inherited the title. And for the latter, his wife would never allow it.

The duchess would absolutely not tolerate bringing in a new mistress to have a child, since she was too old to get pregnant.

‘That’s why I had Monica killed back then.’

At the time, the duke had planned to blame Monica and divorce her with alimony, but the duchess chose the aggressive option of eliminating her first.

He was quite a conscienceless man himself, but his wife surpassed that to be a scary person. A woman with strong jealousy who could do anything when enraged.

The duke was about to put a fourth cigar in his mouth with a complicated sigh when:

“My lord, I have something to report.”

The butler who had knocked and entered spoke carefully. The duke nodded halfheartedly.

“What is it.”

“Well… Someone has come claiming to know the true culprit who killed young master Oscar.”

“What?”

The duke made a dumbfounded face. The one who killed Oscar was Demian.

That cunning bastard had somehow escaped charges, but the duke was determined to get revenge on him. I will get compensation for my son’s life and the damage to our family.

“It must be a con artist. Beat him and chase him out.”

The duke waved his hand dismissively as he lit a new cigar. The butler said with a troubled expression:

“I apologize, my lord. The duchess is already meeting with him.”

“What?!”

The duke shouted angrily. After Oscar’s death, the duchess had done nothing but cry every day. When the senior wife said something after not being able to stand it anymore, she flipped out and talked back for the first time.

Heeding the advice not to provoke a mother who lost her child, the duke had left her alone. That’s a nice way of saying he just neglected her.

It was bothersome to console her, and seeing her gloomy crying face only made him feel more stifled.

But now she had fallen for a con artist’s words. Just as he stood up abruptly to go find his wife, fuming:

“Darling!”

The door burst open and the duchess appeared. The duke raised his voice at his wife who had come on her own, saving him the trouble of going back and forth:

“I heard everything! Letting some con artist inside…!”

“Darling, that’s not important right now.”

The duchess grabbed her husband’s arm tightly. There was a faint madness in her bloodshot eyes.

“We’ve been deceived. We were thoroughly used and betrayed!”

“What are you suddenly talking about?”

“The real culprit who killed Oscar was His Highness the Crown Prince!”

The duchess collapsed to the floor, beating her chest. She regretted the past days of supporting the crown prince without knowing this. The duke looked down at his wailing wife with bewildered eyes.

“Have you gone mad? Talk sense!”

“It’s true! I heard everything!”

“From whom? The con artist? This woman has really lost her mind.”

The duke clicked his tongue, putting his hand to his temple and spinning it in circles. The duchess glared resentfully at her husband who wouldn’t believe her words and stood up abruptly, shouting:

“Whether it’s a lie or not, you hear it for yourself!”

And so the con artist who had dropped a huge bomb on the ducal house was dragged before the duke. His name was Brady, an assassin who had worked for an underworld guild.

According to his own claim, he looked a mess from fleeing the crown prince’s pursuit for a year. The duke stared at Brady with cold eyes.

“Are you the con artist who insulted the imperial family with your glib tongue and deceived my wife?”

“I-It’s not a lie!”

Brady, kneeling before the duke, pressed his forehead to the floor.

“Please believe me, Your Grace! I have spoken only the truth!”

“Oh really?”

The duke gave a signal with his eyes to the knight standing by the door. The knight strode over and stabbed his sword into the back of Brady’s hand.

“Argh!”

“Will you keep lying?”

“Ugh, hic, it’s true. I did not lie.”

Brady insisted despite his pain. Even when they stabbed his leg too, he didn’t change his words, so the duke finally relented.

Brady told the duke the same story he had told the duchess. At first skeptical, the duke’s heart began to waver bit by bit.

“Why did His Highness order Oscar’s assassination?”

“I-I don’t know that well. But the payment came from the Lester duchy.”

“The Lester duchy?”

“Yes, I heard they were very pleased when paying the balance after the job was done. Saying now they could expand eastward too.”

The duke’s face hardened. The Lester duchy was to the west of the Vandermir duchy. From their perspective, Vandermir was to the east. So the meaning of expanding eastward was…

‘The Lester duchy intends to conquer our family!’

Puzzle pieces clicked together in his mind. With no heir, if the duke died, the Vandermir duchy would be left empty without a master.

They were aiming for that moment to take over bloodlessly. To absorb the Vandermir duchy under the Lester duchy.

‘Ha! The crown prince and Lester duchy joined hands using us as a sacrifice!’

The duke recalled Frederick, who had been unusually eager for Demian’s execution. At the time, he too had lost his senses and didn’t feel anything strange, but looking back, his attitude had been almost obsessive.

Then when Demian was ultimately ordered to go to war instead of execution, he showed deep disappointment and began to grow cold towards the duke.

The duke felt he now understood the reason.

Frederick had orchestrated Oscar’s murder to take out Demian, whom he personally wanted to eliminate, and the Vandermir duchy, which would be given to the Lester duchy as a reward, all at once.

“How dare they! How dare they do this to me! Those damned-!”

Unable to contain his rising fury, the duke threw whatever he could grab. Brady, flat on the floor trembling, slightly raised the corners of his mouth.

With this, an irreparable rift had formed between the crown prince and the Vandermir duchy.

A grand party was held to welcome Demian’s return. It was to celebrate the victory and smoothly reintegrate into noble society.

However, the true purpose of this party was actually something else. It was to gather Frederick and the duke and duchess in one place and ignite conflict.

To this end, Arasila invited the ducal couple, and Lucas invited Frederick.

To prevent either side from refusing to attend, they also spread a false rumor that the emperor himself would be coming to bestow gifts. Surely they wouldn’t miss it if the emperor was coming.

Especially Frederick, even if he saw through the lie, would certainly attend due to the slim possibility it might be true.

Arasila deliberately prepared the party as lavishly as possible. She decorated the mansion entrance with fresh flowers, hung diamond chandeliers everywhere, and displayed pure gold hawk statues.

The hall where the party was held was expanded through construction. This was because invitations were sent to almost all noble families currently active in the capital’s social circles.

The hall had to be as spacious as possible to accommodate that many people. Only then could everyone enjoy without exception.

Meanwhile, until the party began, articles and touching stories were widely spread to shape public opinion about Demian’s innocence.

“Did Demian Vandermir really kill his brother? The suspicious truth of that night!”

“Lord Vandermir is my savior… A story told by Northern Guard K”

And on the day of the long-awaited party, Arasila adorned herself with the same passion she had decorated the hall. It was a first in her life.

Audrey was beside herself with excitement. Arasila didn’t bother stopping her. Today’s concept was to look as luxurious as possible, to the point of madness.

“Whew! We’re all done, my lady!”

The preparations that began early in the morning finally finished just before the party started. Audrey wiped the sweat from her brow and stepped back.

As her mistress slowly rose from her seat, she covered her mouth in admiration. She always looked like a doll, but today was the pinnacle.

The black off-shoulder dress that exposed her neck and shoulders had a feather-like decoration along the neckline.

The bodice was embroidered with intricate silver threads, and the skirt was made more voluminous by adding purple chiffon fabric.

In addition, dozens of diamond pieces were attached to remove the plainness of the skirt, and the slender waist was adorned with purple roses.

Her hair was tied back halfway, revealing ears adorned with earrings made of black sapphires and amethysts.

A delicately crafted diamond necklace graced her long neck, but surprisingly it didn’t feel excessive. It only made Arasila’s already radiant face shine even more.

Examining herself satisfactorily in the mirror, Arasila thought:

‘People who want me to fail would be really pissed if they saw this.’

Because I look too well-off. Chuckling, she did a final check of her appearance when told Demian had arrived and went outside.

Demian wore a black uniform embroidered with gold as lavish as Arasila’s, with several medals on his chest. A red cape attached to one shoulder rippled like waves with each step.

“Demian, how do I look?”

Arasila asked, her eyes shining. They had agreed beforehand to shine brightly to provoke Frederick and the ducal couple.

It was a question of whether she had achieved an appearance befitting that intent, but Demian, staring intently at Arasila, gave an unexpected answer.

“You look beautiful.”

“…Oh, that’s not what I was asking.”

Arasila, suddenly feeling awkward, cleared her throat and changed the subject.

“By the way, I heard the Duke and Duchess Vandermir arrived in the capital last night. It means they’re likely to attend today’s party.”

“I just received a report that Crown Prince Frederick is already here.”

“That’s good.”

The two arrived at the entrance of the hall, chatting quietly.

As the main couple of the party appeared, people’s gazes immediately turned to them. Arasila held Demian’s hand tightly as they walked on the carpet.

Blue eyes gently scanned the crowd, finding the desired faces among them. Frederick with his twisted smile, and the ducal couple already upset and at a loss.

Passing right by them, Arasila climbed the stairs to the platform and slowly opened her mouth.

“First, I would like to thank all of you who have come here today to celebrate the safe return of my beloved husband.”

Her clear voice resonated throughout the hall. Demian naturally put his arm around Arasila’s shoulders. Arasila also leaned her head slightly against him, smiling brightly.

The expressions of Frederick and the ducal couple watching this gradually twisted. For different reasons, because they hated the sight.

“Thanks to your support and encouragement, our Demian was able to overcome injustice and achieve merit. Ah, I’d also like to thank those who gave him that opportunity.”

Arasila, who nonchalantly presumed Demian’s innocence while adding sarcastic words, glanced down slightly. Lucas was standing at the bottom of the platform with a servant.

Her eyes asked if he was ready, and Lucas’s head moved up and down. Arasila said, linking arms with Demian:

“In particular, I would like to bow my head in gratitude to His Highness Prince Lucas, who recognized Demian’s innocence with his innate wisdom and provided much help.”

Demian and Arasila deliberately bowed respectfully towards Lucas. Feeling the gazes of people focused on him, Lucas climbed onto the platform with a generous smile.

“Haha, I only did what was natural, yet to receive such thanks is embarrassing.”

“Not at all, Your Highness.”

“The reason I came here today is to congratulate Lord Vandermir for bringing a precious victory to the empire despite the harsh conditions.”

Lucas snapped his fingers. Then, the servant standing behind him presented an elegant box decorated with gold.

Lucas deliberately stepped back to make the box more visible and spoke clearly.

“This is a special gift bestowed upon you by His Majesty the Emperor. I came as a proxy to deliver it.”

Among the deliberately spread false rumors, at least the one about the Emperor giving a gift to Demian was true. It was given to praise him for achieving victory by going to war even when his guilt was not certain.

As rumored, the Emperor did not come, but when his gift appeared instead, people began to stir.

“To think His Majesty really rewarded Lord Vandermir. Wasn’t he sent to war for the crime of killing his brother?”

“Then that article must be true! You know, the one saying Lord Vandermir was falsely accused of murder.”

“Well, from what I’ve heard about his deeds on the northern border, there’s no one more righteous and honest. How could such a person kill his own brother?”

There was a clear difference between Demian atoning for his crime in war and being proved innocent, and being innocent from the start but still going to war.

The latter implied the possibility that the real culprit had framed him.

Despite the growing murmurs, the three people on the platform showed no particular reaction. The couple simply appeared delighted to receive the box.

At that moment, someone raised a hand and asked:

“If Lord Vandermir is innocent, does that mean someone else killed the young lord?”

The person who asked this sensitive question boldly yet carefully was a plant Arasila had prepared in advance. Someone to further expand the stage that had been set.

Arasila looked at them with a troubled face before answering.