From a Broken Engagement to the Northern Grand Duke's Son-in-Law

How long had I walked in that daze?

Eventually, I caught my breath and steadied my racing thoughts.

The Head of House’s study lay before me, its warm light spilling through windows that revealed Lin Praha bent over her desk, scribbling notes with focused intensity.

Knock knock.

I rapped on the door and entered without waiting for permission—a breach of protocol that, under normal circumstances, would never have occurred to me.

But my mind remained scattered, my usual composure fractured by emotions I couldn’t quite name.

“Mm? There you are,” Lin Praha said, glancing up from her work. She made no comment about my rudeness, merely offering a knowing smirk before rising from her seat and moving to the guest chair arrangement.

“Come, sit.”

I crossed the room and settled across from her. She poured tea from a delicate porcelain set, the liquid steaming as it filled my cup.

“Did you have a pleasant conversation with Lea?” she asked, her tone carefully neutral.

A pleasant conversation. I smiled ruefully and shook my head. “I found myself rather pressed for time.”

“Hmm. Lea will be disappointed.” Lin Praha settled back in her chair, then reached for the cigarette case on the side table.

She selected one and placed it between her lips. The match flared, casting brief shadows across her weathered features.

Sizzle.

She took a long, contemplative drag, then exhaled slowly.

“Ah, that’s the proper taste. I kept thinking about how you wouldn’t share one with me back then.” She gestured with the cigarette. “Care for one now?”

“I’m fine, thank you.”

“How disappointingly proper of you.” Another drag, smoke curling toward the ceiling. “How is Lord Venda faring these days?”

“Father emerged from recent events without so much as a scratch, as usual.”

“Ha! That’s Lord Venda for you.” Lin Praha’s chuckle carried genuine warmth, and something in her expression suggested deeper familiarity than I’d realized.

“You seem to know my father quite well.”

“He was my commanding officer during the war with the Baltar Kingdom. You had no idea, did you?”

I blinked in surprise. “No. Father never mentioned serving alongside you.”

“Well, it’s hardly the sort of thing one discusses at dinner parties.” She crushed the cigarette against the crystal ashtray with perhaps more force than necessary.

The empty sleeve of her shirt fluttered in the evening breeze that drifted through the open window.

“Are you truly managing well with...” I gestured delicately toward her missing arm.

“Mm? Oh, this?” She gripped the empty fabric with her remaining hand. “It’s fine, truly. Doesn’t bother me in the slightest, so don’t trouble yourself over it.”

Despite her casual dismissal, the adjustment couldn’t be simple. “I’ll locate a skilled craftsman to fashion you a prosthetic.”

“I’d appreciate that. Everything else is manageable, but having the nobles whisper and point fingers grows tiresome.” Her grin held an edge of steel. “But enough pleasantries. Let’s address the real matter at hand.”

I straightened, recognizing the shift in her tone.

Lin Praha fixed me with a direct stare. “The House of Count Dragunov. That massacre wasn’t actually Berg County’s doing, was it?”

Heat flared in my chest. After all we’d endured, all the blood spilled and lives lost, she questioned our involvement?

The insult cut deep—not just to me, but to every soldier who’d fought under our banner.

But before I could voice my displeasure, Lin Praha raised her hand in a placating gesture.

“Peace. I think you misunderstand. I’m not questioning your honor—I need to know the truth so we can respond appropriately.”

The sincerity in her expression cooled my anger. No mockery lurked behind her words, only pragmatic necessity.

I released a slow breath. “You’re right. It wasn’t our doing.”

“I suspected as much. Someone else orchestrated that butchery.” She tapped her finger against the table in a steady rhythm, her strategic mind clearly working. 

After a moment, her eyes sharpened. “This reeks of manipulation from the shadows.”

“My analysis points toward Artezia, though I lack definitive proof.”

“Mm. There aren’t many powers on the continent capable of such elaborate deception.” She fell silent, lost in contemplation. “Keep this between us for now. I’ll conduct my own investigation through separate channels.”

“Agreed.”

“Good. That settles our immediate concerns.” She leaned back, studying my face. “What are your plans now? You’ve returned home after considerable trials—surely you intend to rest?”

Rest. The word felt foreign, almost laughable given the weight of what lay ahead.

I shook my head. “I must depart immediately.”

“Already? Why not spend more time with Lea? The poor girl has been counting the days until your return.”

That was precisely part of the problem, though I couldn’t explain the complex web of emotions that made her presence both a comfort and a torment. “I have an urgent matter to attend to.”

“Tsk. Very well, I understand. I can’t force someone to remain who’s determined to leave.” She waved her hand dismissively—a gesture that clearly indicated our meeting had concluded.

I rose from my chair and offered a respectful bow. “Thank you for your time.”

“I don’t know where you’re bound, but travel carefully. And Louis?” Her voice softened slightly. “Lea will worry. Perhaps send word when you can.”

“I will.”

I forced myself to maintain composure as I left the study… though my thoughts remained in chaos.

* * *

After departing Lin Praha’s office, I immediately sought out Kai. Given that I’d sent Lancelot to locate him, finding my subordinate should have been straightforward.

Yet something was amiss. Lancelot, who typically announced his presence through various forms of commotion, remained unusually quiet.

The silence worried me more than noise would have.

If he’s causing trouble, it’s a problem. If he’s suspiciously quiet, that’s also a problem.

I suppressed a sigh and continued searching.

Eventually, I spotted Kai in the distance, surrounded by a cluster of Praha knights. 

My initial assessment suggested bullying—a situation I’d thought resolved after my previous “demonstration.”

Crack.

Aura flared around me as I strode toward the group, prepared to deliver another lesson about the consequences of harassing my subordinates.

But as I drew closer, the knights’ voices reached my ears with unexpected clarity.

“Incredible! You dodged that one too?”

“I told you! This kid evaded every single Gargoyle attack!”

“How is anyone supposed to believe that?”

“I’m serious! Kai, just nick this fool’s throat. I’ll testify for you.”

“Agh! Hold up! You’re really gonna kill me?!”

The banter carried the easy camaraderie of shared training, not the cruel edge of mockery. Moreover, Kai seemed genuinely engaged, weaving between mock attacks with fluid grace as he wielded his practice dagger.

I dispersed my Aura and approached at a normal pace.

When Kai noticed me, he immediately ceased his demonstration.

“Young Master?”

The knight who’d been serving as his target exhaled in obvious relief. “Thank the gods, I’m still breathing.”

I acknowledged the knights’ hasty salutes with a casual wave and addressed Kai directly. “What were you doing?”

“Playing,” he replied with characteristic brevity.

“With them?”

“Yes.”

I glanced at the Praha knights, who swallowed nervously under my scrutiny—clearly remembering my previous intervention on Kai’s behalf.

“You seem to have made friends.”

“They treat me well,” Kai confirmed.

If Kai spoke positively about them, I could trust his judgment.

Unlike Lancelot, Kai possessed the instincts to recognize genuine friendship from manipulation.

“Thank you for taking good care of my subordinate,” I told the knights. “May I borrow him for a moment?”

“Of course, sir! Please do!”

I patted several knights on the shoulder—a gesture that sent them departing with expressions of barely contained excitement, as if they’d received some great honor.

Soon, the training ground fell quiet.

“It’s been some time,” I said to Kai. “Have you been well?”

“It was only a month,” he pointed out with typical precision.

“True enough. You’re uninjured?”

“As you can see, I’m fine.” His voice carried a note of concern. “Are you hurt anywhere, Young Master?”

“Not at all.”

Kai nodded, his taciturn nature unchanged, though I noticed more life in his eyes than before. The month of relative peace had been good for him.

“I apologize for interrupting your rest, but we have urgent business.”

“Where?”

“Death Veil. The organization your grandfather was involved with.”

His expression hardened, and I could practically feel the temperature drop around us.

“Isn’t that the place that tried to kill you, Young Master?”

“Hmm, well yes. They won’t try that anymore, though.”

“Can I kill them all?”

His eyes glinted with the cold intent to murder.

It seemed Kai harbored considerable shame about his inability to protect me during that encounter.

I chuckled and shook my head. “No killing. They’re all going to become yours to command.”

“I don’t want them,” he replied flatly.

“We can discuss the details once we arrive.”

Kai’s expression suggested he’d swallowed something particularly unpleasant, but eventually he nodded in reluctant acceptance.

“…I understand.”

Just as Kai finished speaking, Roxen appeared in the distance, accompanied by Lancelot, who had his arm draped around Hans’s neck.

“Oh? I see you’re here, Captain,” Lancelot called out cheerfully.

“I told you to gather the squad members. Where exactly did you wander off to this time?” I demanded.

“Well, I was just chatting with some of the maids, and—Argh!”

Lancelot’s explanation cut off in a strangled yelp as Kai’s fist connected with his solar plexus.

Some things never changed.

I shook my head and addressed my assembled subordinates. “All Special Taskforce members, prepare for deployment.”

Finally, the time had come to visit Death Veil.

* * *

Death Veil—an assassin organization that had maintained its deadly legacy since ancient times.

Throughout history, they had orchestrated countless kills, but their greatest achievement remained the assassination of the previous Emperor.

Of course, that particular success had also forced them into hiding, unable to operate openly while imperial forces hunted them.

Nevertheless, their reputation as both the most dangerous and most effective assassination guild remained unquestioned.

The organization had concealed itself along the route between the North and the Imperial Capital, specifically within the Mert Mountain Range—a desolate wilderness where human footsteps had grown scarce over the generations.

“Huff—huff—”

Hans climbed the treacherous mountain path, breathing heavily with each labored step.

While the rest of us managed the ascent with relative ease, Hans, being a non-combatant, struggled with the physical demands of the journey.

“Are you managing?” I asked.

“I’m fine—huff—sir—gasp!”

He looked anything but fine.

“Take care of Hans,” I instructed Lancelot, then resumed our ascent.

The mountain range that served as Death Veil’s sanctuary seemed to radiate an otherworldly menace. Even the ancient trees appeared twisted with accumulated malice, their gnarled branches reaching toward us like grasping fingers.

“Young Master,” Kai whispered, his voice barely audible, “we’re being watched.”

The assassins had positioned themselves throughout the area, no doubt observing our approach. I’d expected as much.

“Twenty-one, correct?”

“Twenty-two. One of them doesn’t register on my Aura sense.”

Twenty-two? I swept my gaze across the surrounding forest, cataloging the positions I’d already identified.

Twenty-one assassins, their presence like pinpricks of hostile intent against my awareness.

But one remained hidden—so perfectly concealed that they might have been part of the mountain itself.

“Stay alert. We don’t know if they’ll choose to attack.”

“Yes, Young Master.” Kai nodded slightly.

Fortunately, our watchers chose observation over action.

Before long, we reached Death Veil’s stronghold without incident.

“Is this really it?” Lancelot asked, pushing through a curtain of thick undergrowth. His voice carried undisguised skepticism.

I understood his doubt. The structure before us bore little resemblance to what one might expect from a legendary group of assassins.

Instead of an imposing fortress or elegant manor, we faced a crumbling estate that looked more likely to house ghosts than master killers.

The building’s decay was so complete that even I momentarily questioned whether we’d found the correct location.

“This is the right place,” I assured my team. “Everyone remain vigilant.”

As I approached the weathered front door, my hand reaching for the handle—

An elderly man materialized from the shadows and blocked our path.