Working at a Haunted Mansion Chapter 126 - Side Story Chapter 2

“It’s just a rumor.”

The other person cut him off firmly.

“She’s just a counselor. What you saw at the square was just that exposure therapy he’s been doing often lately.”

The rumor that the Duke had suffered psychological aftereffects from the battle against the heretics was well known.

According to whispers, the heretic cult leader had performed a ritual so horrific and cruel it couldn’t even be spoken of in their own hideout.

The guilt of failing to save the victims and the gruesome memories of the scene had disturbed the Duke’s mind, causing him to lose control in crowded places.

It was puzzling that someone who had fought on battlefields since his teens, following the Frontier Count, would suddenly suffer from aftereffects now.

But the illness was real. Many here had seen with their own eyes how he left the imperial banquet early after suffering from shortness of breath.

That he was undergoing exposure therapy with a counselor outdoors was an oft-discussed topic in society.

The man stood his ground.

“Still, you never know when it comes to a man and a woman. Stay close long enough, even a small spark can turn into a blaze, right?”

“I said no. I got curious and looked into it—she’s just a woman with no family name or background. Looks plain, too. She’s lively, as young people tend to be, but… anyway, she’s neither high in rank nor exceptionally beautiful. Do you really think she’d catch the Duke’s eye?”

The man who had brought up the rumor’s eyes gleamed.

“Care to bet on who’s right?”

“You really should fix that habit of always assuming when a man and a woman are together, it has to mean that.”

“So you won’t bet?”

“I will, I will! What are you putting on the line?”

While wagers of personal treasures were being made out on the terrace, in the smoke-filled lounge more serious talks were underway.

“It looks like His Highness Caleb has another chance.”

Caleb Shayworth, Julius’s uncle and lord of the Great Plains of Pallabane, was a strong candidate for regent.

He currently ranked first in the line of succession, aside from Otto Shayworth. If something were to happen to the child, he could very well become emperor.

Once pushed aside from the throne for being the second son, he would surely welcome this opportunity.

“One of the knightly orders has already sided with His Highness Caleb.”

“The Zamir family won’t sit still.”

“Perhaps His Highness will cede a portion of Pallabane to Zamir? As you know, that land is rather barren. Or maybe, since His Highness’s daughter has returned to her father’s house, he might arrange a marriage.”

“Hmm. Then whichever way, Zamir wouldn’t be losing. If they can strengthen ties with the imperial family, they might well choose to support His Highness Caleb.”

“Once Count Bauner Zamir makes up his mind, Her Majesty the Empress will follow. She’s never been interested in politics… though I wonder if she understands what it means for His Highness Caleb to rise as regent.”

Depending on whether the regency went to the Empress or Caleb Shayworth, the power structure of the Empire would shift dramatically.

At that moment, a knock sounded and an aide entered.

“My lord.”

After hearing the aide’s whisper, the noble set down his pipe with a shocked expression.

“Everyone, Count Sorre of the frontier has just arrived at the capital. They say he brought about a dozen men with him.”

The lounge fell silent. Then one man gave a hollow laugh.

“Looks like Duke Kashimir wants something.”

The Frontier Count had always stayed rooted at the eastern gate, like an old tree.

When the late Emperor Henry Shayworth passed, he claimed the funeral would be over by the time he got there, and during Julius’s coming-of-age, he said he couldn’t leave because of troubling barbarian movements.

That such a man had come all the way to the imperial center now could only mean someone had moved him. And the most likely person was Duke Kashimir.

For years, the Frontier Count had told every visitor that he would one day repay the Duke for saving his sons.

At last, the Duke had called in that debt.

“The Duke has played quite a bold move.”

“But isn’t it strange? The Frontier Count arriving exactly at this time? How could he get the timing so precise? It takes a whole month just to get here from his fortress.”

A younger man among them spoke quietly.

“I agree the Duke must have influenced him. But even the fastest messenger would take at least fifteen days to reach his domain. And for the Count to march here with men—it would take no less than twenty days, even in haste. So how did the Duke know to match the timing? Unless he can see the future, it’s almost as if the Duke knew the Count would arrive on the very day His Majesty…”

Before he could finish, a noblewoman tapped her fan twice on the table. Her guards, waiting nearby, stepped closer.

“That’s quite an imaginative and free-spirited thought. Almost too provocative to be spoken during a funeral. Perhaps you should take that creativity to your desk and write it down instead?”

“My lady, what do you mean by that…?”

The man with the pipe agreed.

“I concur with the lady. To think so far ahead, yet not realize what would happen if your words were true… I’ll act as though I didn’t hear it. But I don’t wish to discuss this further.”

The guard moved to stand beside the young man.

“Allow me to escort you out.”

The young man stood reluctantly, his face twisted.

The others began comparing their own alliances, calculating whether Caleb Shayworth still had a chance, and what the rise or fall of each house would mean.