He’s My Real Brother, Duke Chapter 129

🐾

 

On the same day, in the middle of the night.

 

Cornwall secretly closed the gates of the Imperial Palace. The Crown Prince had ordered him to check on the Emperor’s movements.

 

He was officially a traitor, so he had to walk like a ghost, his black robes pressed to his nose.

 

‘This is getting old,’ he thought.

 

But if he could eliminate the Vietry girl and the Duke of Anais, he could chew on his hatred a little longer.

 

A mournful cry reached Cornwall’s ears as he neared the imperial palace, and he frowned slightly.

 

“Open the gates.”

 

“I can’t. Please proceed into the palace.”

 

The Empress stood firmly in front of the closed gates of the Imperial Palace.

 

“I must see the Emperor.”

 

“No, Your Majesty.”

 

The Empress’ daughter stood by her side, holding her arm.

 

“He’s about to die anyway, why are you doing this.”

 

With a low scoff, Cornwall slipped away down a side hall of the imperial palace and quickly 

reached the Emperor’s bed chamber through a secret passage.

 

The room was empty, except for a curtained bed and the sound of wheezing breathing.

 

He pulled back the veil with a twig-like hand, then stared at the man on the bed and chuckled.

 

“Not long now. Until you die.”

 

Cornwall frowned at the smell that greeted his nose. 

 

The Emperor was dying, as far as he could tell. Bluish face, eyes rolled back, whites yellowish as if he were jaundiced. 

 

He was obviously breathing, but there was a trickle of blue coming out of the tip of his nose. 

 

It was almost too poisoned to be a living human being. He stroked the Emperor’s face with a gloved hand, and then slipped outside with a chuckle.

 

No one has set foot in the imperial palace since Cornwall’s departure.

 

And there was one person who had witnessed all the covert treason as if it had happened to him.

 

A woman curled up on a couch in the Iris Room, inside the Duke of Anais’ mansion, a place far, far away from the Imperial Palace.

 

It was, of course, Astel.

 

Thanks to the tracking spell Mimi had cast, I shared a common vision with Cornwall, but only when he dozed off or was otherwise unimportant.

 

But after many false starts, I finally hooked the big fish.

 

“No signs of the Emperor, no signs in the palace.”

 

My eyes fluttered open with satisfaction, and I gently stroked the butterfly bracelet in my hand.

 

“All of it… So that’s what happened?”

 

‘With Cornwall doing the spying for me, this is relaxing.’

 

I stretched out my legs and reclined on the comfy couch, sipping sweet apple mint tea and munching on a cookie with a layer of apple jam, and just letting my eyes follow Cornwall’s every move.

 

I smiled with satisfaction as I pictured Cornwall wandering around on his own.

 

“He’s definitely not dead.”

 

There were many things that would be suspicious if the Emperor died immediately, and there were many titles and territories that would need to be transferred over time.

 

So the Crown Prince may have decided that it would be beneficial to rule in the Emperor’s stead for the time being.

 

The Emperor was not yet dead, and I had the means to save him. The original story had a similar situation.

 

‘If you look closely, the Emperor’s symptoms are the same as those of the dying in the original Demon War.’

 

A typical patient’s face turns blue, they’re unconscious, and their eyes are rolled back to reveal the whites.

 

The whites of his eyes were even coated yellowish. Each exhaled breath was bluish, and the disease was contagious to others.

 

In the original story, the addiction was mistaken for an epidemic and a golden opportunity was missed. 

 

After losing countless troops to the monster’s internal disease, the army was unable to defeat it, and the ghostly poison doctors were able to create a cure.

 

But by then, it had lost much of its power.

 

“So we need to think about the symptoms and come up with a cure.”

 

I declared, holding in both hands the diary and quill pen that I kept alongside my bracelet on the sofa.

 

The people who helped me decipher it back then. Their exact identities were unknown, but the information that they were the apothecaries was certain.

 

“So, now I must find them.”

 

I had to find them as quietly as possible. I scribbled down in cursive, one by one.

 

[Finding poison geniuses in secret.]

 

…When I reached this point, I felt a strange gaze on my back and paused. I quickly turned my head to look away, then panicked. Knox was beside me.

 

“If you’re here, you should have said something!”

 

“I thought you were concentrating.”

 

Immediately, Knox’s hand cupped my cheek as he sat down next to me.

 

“You’re blushing.”

 

I felt the heat of the large hands on my cheeks and blushed to my earlobes.

 

“Astel, you’re blushing.”

 

“Um…”

 

I stuttered as the large hand covered more than half my face.

 

‘Eh, I don’t know anymore!’

 

I put down my diary and pen, crossed my small, white hand over Knox’s large one, and laughed. 

 

We locked eyes for a few minutes, affectionately, and then as soon as we held hands, it became strangely awkward.

 

He gently stroked the flush from my cheeks and whispered low.

 

“You have a troubled look on your face.”

 

“…Well, not troubled, but that. I was wondering if you could do me a favor…”

 

I said low as he kissed the top of the bridge of my nose, like a bird pecking lightly with its tiny beak.

 

“Go ahead.”

 

“That, I need someone good with poisons.”

 

…Poison, was not the most romantic thing to say in this mood.

 

“I see.”

 

Knox simply kissed my earlobe sweetly and murmured.

 

“So, leave all your worries to me.”

 

…Given his romantic response to my worries about the poison, perhaps Knox likes me more than I expected.

 

But…

 

“No. We were supposed to be happy together…”

 

I carefully lowered my eyes and smiled.

 

“So I’ll take my worries somewhere else!”

 

Like, they say, dumping my mountain of worries on the Crown Prince or Cornwall. I squeezed Knox’s hand again, my eyes burning.

 

My hand, so warm, so hot!

 

🐾

 

The next morning was the day of departure for the war the Crown Prince had ordered.

 

Except for a minimal number of people to manage the manor, all those involved in the war got up early, dressed in their robes, and marched to the manor on the far outskirts of the palace.

 

Inside the manor, just behind the great platform, some of the Duke’s elite knights, a large group of knights provided by the imperial court, and the healers who would assist in the rear, lined up side by side.

 

At the highest platform, of course, stood Knox, the Duke of Anais, who would lead the war. I rolled my eyes and stared at him, further back than the platform. 

 

There sat the Crown Prince, sitting arrogantly on the throne as if it belonged to him.

 

“That’s the bastard.”

 

He had a face that, in the glorious sunlight, could be considered handsome in a way.

 

But his complexion was young with a cowardice he could not hide.

 

The Crown Prince sat on the throne until Knox, who stood at the front of the room, began to recite the ceremonial instructions. 

 

As soon as the ordinance was finished, the Crown Prince stood up. He grinned a scheming smile and patted Knox on the shoulder.

 

“I hope you return home victorious.”

 

The Crown Prince’s booming voice echoed through the palace grounds as if the speakers had been enchanted. It was deafening and painful, but Knox didn’t blink.

 

He grabbed my hand, a pure white hand tapping my shoulder.

 

“I must.”

 

He didn’t release my hand until the atmosphere grew chilly and the Crown Prince’s face reddened, and then he spoke quietly.

 

“I will return victorious.”

 

His voice was blunt and dry, but it held power. The knights seemed moved by Knox’s voice, too.

 

I wonder if they were. The Crown Prince narrowed his eyes in an amused expression.

 

“When you come back, I’ll have you…”

 

The Crown Prince fixed his stiff gaze firmly on Knox and offered his compliments.

 

“You will wear the Crown of Victory, I see.”

 

Knox nodded slightly.

 

“Yes.”

 

Their gazes locked at his answer.

 

The Crown Prince stared at Knox with an uncomfortable expression, then set his mouth in a straight line and averted his gaze. 

 

It was clear that he had failed in his attempt to overpower the knight, and he looked quite proud of himself for it.

 

“I understand that all the knights gathered here are loyal to our Imperial House.”

 

A line clearly aimed at the Duke. But Knox merely stared at him with a dry stare. 

 

The Crown Prince spoke up quietly, “Of course the Duke is, and all honor goes to the imperial family.”

 

I couldn’t see it from where I stood, but he looked devious, as despicable as a man who hides his true colors. I glared at the Crown Prince with a burning gaze.

 

‘You, bastard. Get your filthy eyes off of Knox.’

 

I shoved my fist into my inside pocket and let out a quick, sharp curse word. It was the smallest form of revenge before the big one.

 

At that moment, Knox spoke up.

 

“As for who I will honor, I will let you know when I return from the war victorious.”

 

I chuckled to myself, reading the dissatisfaction and anxiety on the Crown Prince’s face.

 

Further, I don’t know exactly who Knox would be honoring, but at least it won’t be the Prince!