The Secretary of the Northern Grand Duchess Has Run Away

Chapter 45: Securing a Big Shot (5)

The middle-aged man’s outfit couldn’t have been plainer.

Shabby cotton trousers and a crinkled gray shirt.

To anyone’s eyes, he looked just like any common homeless person in the neighborhood.

“Is the food to your taste?”

I gave him a casual greeting and naturally approached.

The man, with his hat pulled low, simply nodded in response.

“Yes, sir. Thanks to you, it’s truly delightful.”

A rough voice like metal scraping.

At first listen, it seemed completely unrelated to anything musical.

“A charity party… You're doing a wonderful thing.”

“Our hotel also opened thanks to the Saint’s support.”

I took the chair handed over by the staff and sat across from him.

Once our eye level matched, his sky-blue eyes started to show from under the brim of his hat.

“To repay that grace, even just a little, I decided to host this party.”

“I see… I’m sure God will look kindly on your good deeds, sir.”

The vagrant carefully put down his wine glass.

As if trying to conceal the habits of his once-upper-class life.

“It’s fate that we’ve met like this—shall we shake hands? I’m Julius Roger.”

I casually extended my hand as I spoke.

The vagrant slowly shook his head.

“How could these filthy hands of mine possibly touch a noble man’s?”

“It’s alright. I come from a commoner background myself.”

At the mention of being a commoner, the middle-aged man glanced up briefly.

As if trying to confirm whether I was truly not a noble.

“If it’s uncomfortable, we can just exchange names.”

“Alright then, I’m Anton Burtz.”

The great singer gave a fake name with a tone that sounded practiced.

But at that moment—

“There’s no need to hide your name here.”

The vagrant’s lips froze instantly.

Up until now, my expression had been full of kindness...

But now it had shifted—like someone worn down by the filthy world of politics, just like him.

“Ten years ago, you were the great singer who won the Golden Lion Music Award three years in a row…”

I slid the wine glass back toward him.

“You’re Bennet Tolkien.”

Perhaps it was the mention of his real name.

Bennet immediately dropped his grateful expression and opened his mouth in a chilling tone.

“Did the capital send you?”

I quietly placed the golden-brown grilled meat brought by a hotel staff member in front of Bennet.

However, the great singer didn’t even glance at the meat.

“That’s not it. I’m not with the imperial family, nor am I a noble.”

“Then how did you know I was living as a vagrant in the slums…?”

Despite his sharp question, I kept a calm expression.

Instead, I even cut the meat myself and served it onto his plate.

“I didn’t know. I just heard that you were expelled from the music world after being caught helping refugee children escape.”

I was only guessing.

Five years later, the newspaper reported his death.

All I knew was that the place he died was just the Nord slum, Dale Town.

I had invited all the vagrants from that place.

“After the war ended, the imperial family pardoned you. Isn’t it about time you made a comeback?”

I deftly placed a slice of meat on the edge of the knife and transferred it to his plate.

But Bennet didn’t eat a single piece.

“Now, after all this time?”

The middle-aged man looked at me with hollow eyes.

For a noble, the wrinkles around his eyes were unusually deep.

“Even if the imperial family forgave me, my image has already been branded as a spy for the enemy nation.”

He furrowed his brow deeply, as though the painful past had just resurfaced in his mind.

As if even after more than ten years, it remained unforgettable.

“No one would understand why I, at the peak of my career, helped children from the enemy nation.”

Bennet wore the look of someone who had fought a lonely battle for a long time.

But soon, the wrinkles on his furrowed brow began to smooth out.

“It was because of guilt, wasn’t it?”

I had been silently listening, and now I pointed out exactly what had happened to him.

“In the past, you were forced to sing war propaganda music ordered by the military, weren’t you?”

I spoke with the same lifeless eyes that mirrored his.

Because, like him, I too had committed countless acts I hadn’t wanted to.

“You hated it, but you were pressured by your wife’s side—one of the Empire’s most prestigious knightly families.”

“How do you… know that…”

The great singer’s lips parted slightly.

Realizing that I had hit the mark, he let out a deep sigh and confessed.

“That’s right. I couldn’t withstand the outside pressure, so in the end, I gave up on my convictions.”

With a heavy expression, Bennet looked toward the vagrants enjoying the music.

Each holding a glass of wine, they offered applause to the pianist’s tasteful melodies.

“And then I had to watch as the young men who joined the army under the influence of my propaganda songs... and the victims... died one after another.”

The middle-aged man’s hand trembled as he held his fork.

Still haunted by the memories, Bennet tightly closed his eyes.

“That guilt is why you secretly smuggled out the refugee children.”

“Yes…”

I set down my fork and knife.

Then, I quietly observed him—still hollow, even after helping the children escape safely.

“And I got caught, and ended up like this.”

Now in his early fifties, the middle-aged man let out a deep breath and spoke in a hollow tone.

“Things have changed a lot now. Her Majesty the Empress has granted freedom of expression to musicians.”

I laid out several pamphlets from the capital that I had gathered in preparation for meeting Bennet.

On their covers were portraits of junior musicians boldly singing of peace.

“If you return even now, you’ll be a great inspiration to the younger generation.”

Bennet quietly looked down at the promotional materials I handed him.

For a brief moment, it felt as though the energy from his singing days had returned to his eyes.

“I don’t know… I’m not sure.”

But soon, he let out a heavy sigh and tightly shut his eyes.

As if to say that his life as a singer was already over.

“I’m already too broken.”

Indeed, just like the first time I met him, his voice had suffered great damage.

And after years of living rough, his body didn’t seem to be in good shape either.

“Even if I were to stand on stage again now, I don’t know if I could get through two songs.”

There was clearly a reason he had been found dead, cold, five years later.

“After I was sentenced to exile, even my family cast me out. No one would take me in.”

“When someone gets branded as a spy from an enemy nation in the Empire, no one hires them.”

I refilled his empty glass with water.

Each time he drank, he winced slightly, as if pain shot through his throat.

“That’s right. I lost all the money I had, and I lost this eye while doing relief work.”

Bennet finally took off the hat he had been pressing low over his face.

Then he showed me his left eye, clouded and discolored—white and black mixed together.

“Sometimes, I wonder. If I had turned my back on the refugee children and buried my conscience back then…”

The singer of the century, worn down by years of scorn and hardship.

His one remaining blue eye stared directly at me.

“…would I have been able to stand on stage again?”

It wasn’t his ruined body that he lamented most.

It was the belief that he could never again return to the stage.

To the point he questioned whether saving those children had been a mistake.

But I knew.

No—anyone could know.

Abandoning your convictions for the sake of a goal doesn’t bring you closer to happiness.

“No. Even if you had abandoned your conscience back then, you still wouldn’t have been able to stand on stage.”

I had spent my life cleaning up and taking the fall for the Grand Duke’s House’s misdeeds.

Just to chase after wealth and honor, no matter the cost.

But in the end...

“A singer is someone who sings the emotions that rise from within the heart.”

All that was left were tears and regret.

Because I even abandoned the only person who ever truly considered me family.

“If someone sings their whole life under the weight of guilt, they’ll fall apart in the end.”

I stood up from my chair.

Then, gently straightening the hat he had taken off, I said,

“Even though you’ve lost one eye, Sir Bennet, you still protected your integrity as a musician to the end.”

With the earnest eyes I had once worn as the Chief Secretary.

“That’s why—more than before—you are a true artist now.”

Bennet, upon hearing my words, silently looked down at his wine glass.

The surface of the red wine was the color of blood-soaked puddles from the war—deep and dark.

Because of that, he hadn’t touched a drop of wine since the war ended...

He stared blankly for a while at the reflection of his face in the surface of the wine.

Even though he had lost vision in one eye and his whole body was worn down, singing wasn’t done with the body.

‘It’s done with the heart.’

“If you give me the opportunity, I’ll prepare a performance you’ll never regret.”

I gently pushed the wine glass toward the singer of the century.

With the same refined touch I had as Chief Secretary.

“If, on that day, you are satisfied with what you see—will you sing again?”

Bennet stared blankly into my jet-black eyes.

Then, realizing that I was sincere, he cleared his throat.

“You’re saying you’ll satisfy me?”

The middle-aged man lightly patted his chest, as if feeling tightness inside.

But I knew the truth.

“We only met today, and yet you're brimming with confidence.”

That it wasn’t discomfort he felt—but his heart swelling with emotion.

“I’m someone who has to accomplish the impossible.”

Bennet took a deep breath to steady himself.

Then, with a calm voice, he spoke.

“Very well. If I’m satisfied, then I will.”

“Excellent. Then please come to the hotel exactly four weeks from today.”

I took a business card from inside my suit jacket.

And with both hands, I politely placed it into Bennet’s now-calloused palm.

“On that day, I’ll have the perfect stage prepared just for you.”

I bowed with proper respect to the singer of the century.

Everyone attending the party watched the scene with interest.

“……”

Bennet stared blankly at the hotel owner bowing before him.

Then, with a slightly puzzled expression, he asked,

“But why are you doing all this for me…? I’m long past my prime.”

Indeed, his voice was in poor condition.

And given the nature of the performance, he’d have to sing at least seven songs back-to-back.

Even if he changed his mind and stepped onstage, there was no guarantee the performance would be a success.

But—

“My lord always demands only the best.”

I looked at him with unwavering certainty.

“When it comes to the greatest singer—who else could it be but Bennet Tolkien?”

The Grand Duke of the North had given his command.

He had explicitly said to recruit a singer of the century like Bennet Tolkien.

A secretary who fails to meet that demand is third-rate.

One who settles for a substitute after failing to secure the target is second-rate.

But a truly first-rate secretary must even fulfill a command to fetch the moon.

“Alright. But don’t expect too much from me.”

I silently watched the legendary singer of the century as he left the charity party.

Indeed, when he first entered this place, he had looked like nothing more than a shabby vagrant.

“Singers lose their form after just a week without practice.”

Yet now, his steps as he walked away looked firmer than before.

As if a new hope had arrived in a life that had known only despair.

‘Now all that’s left is for me to do well.’

I turned my head away from him and looked toward the stage.

My business partner was grilling meat with the grumpiest look on his face.

Even with that expression, his good nature showed through in how silently and diligently he worked—it left an impression.

“Mansachs, could you come over here for a moment?”

His face immediately brightened as he took off his apron.

He stretched his wrists and walked over to my side.

“That guy who just left—was that the Bennet Tolkien?”

“Yeah. His body’s not in good shape, and his heart’s taken quite a hit too.”

He picked up the wine on the table with a refined, aristocratic touch.

Then, after wetting his throat, he asked again.

“Really? Then he probably can’t go up on stage, right?”

“No, he will. No matter what.”

I said it to him with confidence.

“Because I’ll make sure of it.”

The second son of one of the Three Major Newspapers looked at me with a wary, almost burdened gaze.

“You got a plan?”

“I do. But I’ll need your help.”

Mansachs furrowed his brow, as if I was about to rope him into something weird again.

“You’ve been pushing me way too hard lately. Let me be clear—we’re business partners, not your errand boy.”

“I’ll give you a suite.”

A top-tier room at a hotel whose value had just skyrocketed—offered for free.

At those words, Mansachs instantly transformed into the world’s most generous noble heir.

“Say no more. We’re business partners, after all.”

Of course, I wasn’t the type to take a loss.

Since I’d just handed over an expensive room, there were plenty of things I needed to ask of our well-bred young master.

“What’s with that sleazy grin again…”

“It’s nothing. You won’t even have to get your hands dirty, so don’t worry.”

I waved it off casually.

Then, looking at him with the most sincere expression—as if I were the purest person in the world—I said,

“In exchange, I’d like to borrow some of your newspaper’s reporters.”

“Our staff?”

He tilted his head, puzzled. I then pulled out my wallet, stuffed full of hotel business cards.

And proudly placed them in both of his hands.

“Specifically, your foreign correspondents stationed overseas.”

Mansachs looked at me with a face full of curiosity.

But he let out a long sigh and nodded, knowing full well that listening to me had never once led to a loss.

“It’s possible, but it’s going to take some time.”

“How much?”

He mentally calculated something for a moment, then held up three fingers.

“At least three weeks.”

“That’s fine. I’m counting on you.”

The young master of one of the Three Major Newspapers nodded in agreement.

Then, as he watched me clearing away the plate of sliced meat instead of the staff, he said,

“Then in the meantime, call in Sir Bennet and get him practicing.”

At the mention of practice, I paused and set the plate down.

Then I turned to Mansachs and spoke with meaning in my voice.

“No, there won’t be any practice. The performance will begin the moment Sir Bennet arrives.”

“What…? You’re saying he’ll perform on the day without any rehearsal?”

Mansachs’s blue eyes widened at the boldness of my plan.

To that, I spoke in a solemn voice.

“Yeah. This one’s going to take quite some time.”

Turning the heart of someone who had been in despair for over a decade, cut off from the world—it wasn’t an easy task.

But I knew well how to satisfy even people like that.

That was the duty of a secretary to the Grand Duke of the North.

“It’s still the surest way to change his mind.”