Chapter 97
The meal, which he had assumed would be brief, stretched on for quite some time.
“Oh no. Is it already this late?”
Davin glanced at his watch far too late and felt a flicker of panic.
He had not once touched on the real reason he had invited her to dine.
The truth was that his conversation with Rodellia had been far more enjoyable than he had anticipated.
It had been a long while since he had felt so at ease in someone’s company.
Since waking from his long illness, he had spent six years listening to the humiliations endured by his son and their house, his chest tight with frustration and anger.
Yet today, of all days, he had not felt stifled in the least—he had not even noticed the hours slipping away.
Davin was perfectly aware that he owed this lightness to the young woman seated before him: Lady Peris.
She ought to have been an awkward, even unwelcome, companion, yet she guided the conversation with such natural grace that he could only admire her for it.
And the quiet Ainluk mansion, so long shrouded in silence, now felt alive with energy. That, too, was not unpleasant at all.
“I suppose I can’t leave the position of mistress vacant forever. Not when he likes her so much.”
He was just about to broach the main subject when—
“Um… Father?”
Rodellia began hesitantly, her eyes darting in quick, nervous circles.
The lips that had been chattering so freely only moments ago now carried a trace of reluctance.
“Speak freely.”
At Davin’s gentle prompting, she twisted slightly in her seat, as though embarrassed.
“Well…”
She stole a quick glance at Alferen before continuing.
“It’s about the marriage proposal.”
Ah. So that was it.
He had intended to ask about it himself; no reply had come, after all.
Davin took a calm sip of water, feigning indifference.
“Yes, there was that.”
His unruffled response seemed to put her at ease.
“Actually, Father asked me to suggest holding the engagement ceremony next spring.”
In that instant, Davin’s expression darkened.
“That would push the wedding far too late.”
Since he had already decided to accept the match, he wanted to move quickly.
“Could she possibly be delaying because my son doesn’t please her?”
Truth be told, Rodellia was almost too good for Alferen.
His son had looks and wealth, nothing more; the daughter of House Peris had been born with beauty, fortune, and a genuinely kind heart.
Noticing Davin’s darkening mood, Rodellia rolled her eyes again, searching for the right words.
“I think he simply wishes to proceed without any unnecessary attention.”
Davin understood at once.
A few days earlier, the Emperor had summoned him. The man he met after so long looked noticeably older.
“As you well know, Cesare has only recently returned to the empire, and his position is still precarious.”
“It will improve in time.”
Davin had pretended ignorance even though he saw through the Emperor’s transparent ploy.
Alferen had openly declared his support for the Crown Prince; the Empress would hardly sit idly by.
The current Crown Prince was the legitimate son of the Empress—fully qualified, by blood, to inherit the throne.
Davin, who prized legitimacy above all else, had therefore endorsed his son’s choice.
Yet the Emperor clearly wished to preserve the rivalry between the Crown Prince and Cesare.
No doubt to stoke conflict among the maternal families and profit from the discord.
“Pointless rivalry only wounds the bond between brothers.”
“And it was precisely that rivalry that allowed you to inherit the headship, was it not?”
Even when the Emperor prodded an old wound, Davin did not flinch.
“I have heard that while I lay ill, Your Majesty lent my son considerable aid. This, too, must be part of the outcome.”
By alluding to how the Emperor had manipulated his son during his incapacity, Davin silenced him.
He had later learned that the Empress had taken ill shortly after his own recovery—a sign that the balance of power was not in her favor.
Duke Peris was surely mindful of the same delicate situation.
“Still, there can hardly be any real objection to my son.”
Alferen might be reserved and brusque with most people, but he was gentle with Rodellia, was he not?
Feeling a renewed surge of paternal pride, Davin let his expression soften.
If he pressed too hard for an earlier engagement now, House Peris might hesitate to part with their precious daughter.
That would never do.
So he answered with studied nonchalance.
“Very well. If that is the Duke’s wish, we shall proceed accordingly.”
“If the engagement is held next spring, there will be ample time to prepare properly.”
Despite the calm tone, his mind was already busy sketching out elaborate plans for the ceremony still many months away.
After Rodellia returned to the Peris ducal residence—
“It has been empty far too long.”
Years had passed since he had refused to replace his late wife as mistress of the house.
Now it was time to welcome someone new.
With a full engagement plan already taking shape in his head, Davin wasted no time.
“Isaac, come to my study.”
He had nothing pressing to occupy him, after all; preparing for his son’s marriage in advance seemed an excellent use of his day.
Count Miranda stole nervous glances at the Empress seated before him.
When he had first learned that Jasmine had gone to the capital, he had wanted to drag her back to the estate immediately.
“I sincerely hope she never crosses my path again.”
Kianu Peris’s icy warning from eight years ago still echoed vividly in his memory.
Because of his daughter’s blunder back then, Count Miranda had suffered devastating losses.
Every investment he had secured through Jasmine’s friendship with Rodellia had collapsed, saddling him with enormous penalties.
Only recently had he managed to stabilize the territory’s finances.
To hear that this reckless girl had slipped away to the capital filled him with rage.
He had sternly forbidden her even to look toward the capital ever again.
Yet when he moved to haul her home, Jasmine had snapped back fiercely.
“How much longer do I have to rot in that backwater?”
“Jasmine!”
“It’s been eight whole years! Eight years is more than enough penance! The memorandum you secretly had me sign is long gone anyway—why are you still punishing me?”
“The memorandum is gone?”
“They say last year’s flood destroyed it. Rodellia doesn’t even remember me! I’m not going back. I’ve already signed contracts to serve as Her Highness’s exclusive maid!”
In that moment, Count Miranda rapidly recalculated.
The sole remaining obstacle—the memorandum—had vanished, and if Rodellia Peris truly remembered nothing, there was no reason to keep hiding in the countryside.
He promptly relocated several businesses to the capital.
Profits doubled, and the entire Miranda household rejoiced.
The Peris ducal house had raised no objections, which suggested the memorandum’s destruction was indeed fact.
With nothing left to fear, the Count grew bolder.
Jasmine’s position as a close attendant to Princess Nanael made forging new connections remarkably easy.
And once Empress Rosaria began actively supporting him, noble houses lined up to invest.
After so long, the taste of power was intoxicating; Count Miranda felt sated even without meals.
Then the Empress spoke.
“Are you managing all right in the capital?”
“Thanks to Your Majesty’s gracious attention, I am prospering beyond my station. The defense contracts you introduced last time have been especially profitable—the potion division in particular.”
“That is entirely because your daughter gets along so well with our Nanael. I have high hopes for your house.”
At Rosaria’s words, Count Miranda’s shoulders straightened with pride.
“I heard Your Majesty has been unwell of late. Are you feeling better now?”
“It is merely a lack of energy.”
“You must stay strong, if only for Prince Cesare and Princess Nanael.”
At the mention of Cesare, Rosaria’s face clouded.
“It would be wonderful if a steadfast family stood at that child’s side. There is no suitable match at present.”
She glanced briefly at the Count before adding, almost as an afterthought,
“Come to think of it, your daughter remains unmarried, does she not?”
“Yes, Your Majesty. She has just turned twenty, so we are beginning to look.”
“If you have no objection, I could introduce her to Cesare.”
“To Jasmine?”
The Count’s eyes widened at the unexpected offer.
Rosaria brushed her chin lightly with delicate fingers and murmured, as though to herself,
“Settling with one woman would surely bring some stability to his heart.”
What unimaginable good fortune.
Count Miranda could not conceal his delight and bowed deeply.
“It—it would be the greatest honor.”
Once the Count had departed, Rosaria’s gaze turned icy.
“Shameless creature.”
Her demeanor was utterly transformed from the warm, gracious face she had worn only moments before.
