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

“Darling. If I handle this for you, you’ll go on a date with me, won’t you?”

Enoxia tucked her pipe into her hair like a hairpin, the casual gesture at odds with the deadly intent in her voice.

Normally, Martel would have sighed and protested the endearment, but not this time. He simply breathed hard through his nose, anger radiating from him as he read and reread the letter.

Enoxia snatched the paper from his trembling hands and tucked it between her breasts with practiced ease.

“I’ll be taking this, so calm down and wait. You’re so sexy looking that angry, but high blood pressure will kill you at your age. You need to be careful.”

She chuckled and patted his shoulder before walking toward the tavern entrance. 

The moment she turned away, her expression hardened into something predatory.

How dare they pull this kind of stunt. I suppose I’m allowed to kill?

Louis Berg, was it?

It seemed the Empire’s Spear would soon lose its heir.

* * *

Several days had passed since the war’s end. The cleanup was complete, funeral rites conducted with full honors.

My eldest brother remained buried in administrative work, but Father and the others had returned to their routines.

It was during these peaceful days that destiny knocked.

“Letter delivery!”

A courier from the Messenger Guild approached House Berg. He surveyed the grounds before walking directly toward me.

“You are Baron Louis Vinn Berg, my lord?”

I frowned. Did somebody tattoo my name across my forehead?

“…That’s right, but how did you know?”

“Ah, then please sign here.”

He held out paperwork as if my question were irrelevant.

The casual dismissal of a noble’s inquiry was telling—this was no ordinary courier.

Some kind of master courier?

“You’re quite the Lancelot type, aren’t you?” I observed, taking the paper.

“Pardon?”

“That’s a compliment.”

I signed and handed it back.

The courier looked uncomfortable but wasn’t foolish enough to challenge nobility. He bowed and presented the letter.

“I’ll be going now.”

“Safe travels.”

After he vanished, I examined the letter’s contents.

Something was wrong. I’d expected correspondence from Martel, but this wasn’t his style.

The paper contained no words—only a red star drawn in what looked like blood.

…Death Veil?

I turned the envelope upside down and shook it. A round medallion tumbled out—coin-sized, with numerous raised dots scattered across its surface.

My fingers traced the pattern. Braille-like formatting—an information exchange method I’d learned during my past life as Artezia’s hunting dog.

Soon... day... promise... fulfill...

The meaning crystallized. They wanted me to bring Kai to Death Veil.

The promise I’d made so long ago was finally being called in.

Various complications had arisen since then, but those wouldn’t matter to them. Such organizations cared nothing for excuses.

I pocketed the medallion and tossed the letter into the fireplace. Flames consumed it instantly, reducing paper to ash.

Knock knock.

“Captain, are you there?”

Lancelot entered, still wrapped in bandages like a walking medical experiment.

Perfect timing. “We need to leave soon. Start packing.”

“What?”

“Let’s go back. Home.”

* * *

Clip-clop. Clip-clop.

Inside the swaying carriage, I sat facing Lancelot, feeling every bump and jostle of the road.

Normally he would have ridden separately, but given his current condition, I simply suggested we share the ride.

“Why are we leaving so soon, by the way? These are family members you haven’t seen in ages.”

Lancelot leaned against the carriage wall, genuine confusion in his voice. He couldn’t understand my haste to return to House Praha.

Honestly, I was more comfortable at home too, but I couldn’t impose indefinitely. 

Death Veil’s message had simply provided convenient timing.

“Who knows? Perhaps I’m homesick for the northern cold.”

“How could anyone miss that?” He snorted. Even for a northerner, that brutal climate apparently never became comfortable.

“I told you. The North calls to me.”

I shrugged.

Lancelot looked at me like I was an exotic insect, but I continued without concern.

“How’s your body? If it’s too much, I could go alone.”

“…So obviously changing the subject.” His eyes narrowed. He patted his chest lightly. “I’m fine. A tiny injury like this? Nothing a bit of spit can’t heal.”

That wasn’t exactly a simple wound, though. White bandages still wrapped his torso, and despite his clothing, bits of gauze showed through.

His recovery ability was genuinely impressive.

Originally, I’d planned to leave him behind. The healers had prescribed months of recuperation, and he’d only be a hindrance in his injured state.

I’d intended to tell him to rest somewhere warm.

But the madman had risen from his sickbed in just one week, making a mockery of medical expertise.

He still complained when moving roughly, but his recovery far exceeded all expectations.

No wonder the healers had clicked their tongues in amazement before clearing him for discharge. This was practically a body blessed by the gods.

He’ll be formidable once he becomes a Master.

An Aura Master wielding House Berg’s spear arts, fearing no wound. Like some berserk warrior from mythology.

If he continued growing, people might one day call Lancelot the Spear God.

Though well… that’s rather far off.

I shrugged and pulled the medallion from my coat, flicking it toward him.

Ting!

It landed in his palm. “What’s this?”

“Death Veil sent it. They want us to come quickly.”

“…Death Veil, as in that place from before?” His frown deepened. “Didn’t those people try to kill you, Captain?”

“Well, yes.”

“And you’re walking into their den of your own accord?”

“When one receives an invitation, one must attend.”

“Are you completely insane?”

“You’re overstepping now that I’ve loosened your leash.”

“I mean, that’s because you’re doing something insane! You finally survived, so why are you crawling back there?!”

From his perspective, I probably looked suicidal. He hadn’t been close enough to hear my conversation with that assassin, so his concern was perfectly reasonable.

“There’s no need to worry. This visit will benefit Kai.”

Going to Death Veil and having Kai’s worth recognized—that was precisely why I was heading there.

“Benefit Kai?” Suspicion clouded his features.

Suddenly claiming it would help Kai? No wonder he found it hard to believe.

But what could he do about it either way? A subordinate must obey when his master commands.

“Trust me.”

“…You have to be trustworthy for me to trust you,” he muttered sourly.

Really, he was the only one who would speak to his superior like that. I clicked my tongue and turned away.

The carriage stopped. I opened the door and climbed down, Lancelot following with confusion.

“Weren’t we going to Death Veil or whatever?”

I grinned and raised my head to read the shop sign before us.

Al Fortia de Glori.

The residence of Lexa, who had failed to send me information all this time.

* * *

“…So that’s why you came to me?” Lexa asked with a faint sigh.

Her complexion looked worse—apparently she was increasing her drug dosage. 

Well, none of my concern.

I met her gaze directly. From the Elder Council to the civil war, two major events had occurred consecutively, yet Lexa hadn’t sent any correspondence. She would have obtained information but hadn’t shared it.

This alone confirmed that my deception had been exposed.

She probably started suspecting when Artezia helped the High Elder.

It would have been suspicion at first.

If I had helped the High Elder seize House Praha, Lexa would have believed me.

But when I discarded the High Elder and showed hostility toward Artezia, suspicion became certainty.

The fact that I wasn’t a First-Class Scribe.

“My apologies. I seem to have deceived you unintentionally.”

“…You’re being quite honest?”

“Since I’ve been found out, there’s no point in pretending otherwise.”

I lifted the coffee cup and brought it to my lips. The liquid had a sharp, acrid scent—laced with poison.

“You’ve poisoned it.”

“I would have had to kill you if you hadn’t been honest.”

“Is that so?”

I laughed softly and poured the coffee into my mouth.

Gulp.

“No!” Lexa panicked, trying to stop me, but the coffee had already gone down my throat.

“Are you insane?!”

She shouted for her subordinates to bring antidotes.

Apparently, it wasn’t fast-acting poison. She probably wouldn’t have killed me even if I hadn’t been honest.

Well, she would have tried to use me instead.

I maintained a leisurely expression and waved dismissively. “No need for an antidote.”

“What kind of nonsense is that?! Don’t move. I’ll have the antidote brought immediately.”

I’m serious, though.

I raised a finger and channeled Aura through the tip.

Flicker.

Seeing the energy bloom from my fingertip, Lexa stared with bewildered eyes.

“Eh…? Uh, how is this possible?”

The poison she’d fed me was called Soulchoke—a toxin that interfered with aura production and caused breathing difficulties.

She was naturally confused seeing me use Aura after consuming such a substance.

“I happen to have a constitution immune to poison. Oh, do you have more coffee? I’m rather thirsty.”

Lexa stared with complete disbelief while I grinned.

The poison gland of a Mirror Frog and Mandragora Root, made into pills…

The concoctions I’d shared with Lea after my regression were finally paying off.