Chapter 37

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Translator: Harry Potta
Chapter: 37
Chapter Title: A Calculated Provocation
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#37

At the absurd remark, just as Rutherford stood gaping and stammering, Witten quickly stepped forward to ask.

“What…! Grand Tutor? Your Majesty, you have yet to marry, let alone produce an heir. Why would a chief educator for the Crown Prince be necessary?”

The Grand Tutor, responsible for the Crown Prince's education, was a high-ranking position, considered a gateway to becoming one of the Three Ducal Ministers. But with no heir, it was nothing more than an honorary title.

A hollow title of Grand Tutor versus the acting governor of the entire Duchy of Kill.

The two were simply incomparable. Even a child ignorant of the world would surely choose the latter.

But Lucy narrowed her brow and retorted in an angry tone.

“Do you know how important a teacher is for the one who will lead the throne? I am in good health, so I will see an heir soon enough. I have chosen you as the tutor for my future child, yet you speak such disappointing words.”

“...Pardon? Are you referring to me?”

Biting his tongue, Witten was too stunned to feel the pain, his bewildered expression shifting between Rutherford and Lucy.

Lucy erased her angry expression and smiled benevolently.

“Lord Witten. I heard you once passionately hoped to become the Grand Tutor to the late Crown Prince. Come to think of it, there are few as wise and thoughtful as you. After careful consideration, I concluded there was no one more suitable and decided to bestow the title of Grand Tutor upon you.”

A heavy silence, one that the word ‘heavy’ could not begin to describe, pressed down on the conference room.

On behalf of the completely frozen Witten, Rutherford cautiously spoke up.

“Then the ruler of the duchy…”

“Ah. I will entrust that to you, Lord Rutherford. Discuss the details with the administration later.”

The way she waved her hand dismissively conveyed a sense of annoyance, as if the duchy was of no consequence to her.

Caught in the unexpected turn of events, Rutherford lost her pleased demeanor and shot a troubled look at Witten. Witten, seemingly too drained to be angry, just stared at Lucy with a vacant expression.

“Well then, I shall take my leave. Lord Witten, Lord Rutherford. I look forward to your continued service.”

As Lucy rose, Walter naturally stood with her and positioned himself behind her.

Her wheat-colored hair fluttered softly behind her smiling face, and soon the sound of their military boots faded as they left the conference room.

A harsh breath echoed through the chilling silence.

The moment the footsteps vanished completely, Duke Witten’s roar shattered the conference room’s stillness.

⚜ ⚜ ⚜

Ignoring her suggestion to return directly to headquarters, Walter dragged Lucy to a drawing room in the inner palace.

With a polite yet somewhat forceful touch, he sat Lucy down on a sofa and called a servant to prepare tea. Cookies, muffins, and fruits were placed on the table, and finally, a cup of warm tea was set before each of them.

Wary of what he was plotting, Lucy hesitated before putting a pastry in her mouth.

She munched on a cookie, then stuffed a mouthful of butter cake in her cheek and gulped down her tea. Only when about half of the refreshments were gone did Walter finally break the silence, his voice heavy.

“Your Majesty. Provoking your opponents in such a manner is a very dangerous thing to do.”

Speaking in an exceedingly kind tone, as if placating a child, Walter gazed at Lucy with profound eyes.

“Duke Witten, contrary to his appearance, is an incredibly cunning man. The reason he maintained his position as second-in-command behind Duke Kill was not due to a lack of ability or background. Making an enemy of him was not a wise choice.”

He reached out to wipe the cocoa powder from the corner of her mouth and even personally lifted a fork to feed her a piece of fruit.

And that smile on his face, when nothing was funny, was truly…

Utterly bizarre.

Recalling his twisted smile with a horrified expression, Lucy slapped his hand away and quickly racked her brain.

Only then did Lucy realize that this incomprehensible situation was a lecture, a scolding for a childish queen.

Unable to direct his anger at his sovereign, he was coaxing her as if she were a baby.

Walter, still smiling gently, reached out and tucked Lucy’s hair behind her ear. His voice, now much lower, continued in a soft, sweet tone.

“If you intended to entrust the duchy's rule to Rutherford, you should not have created a situation where they had to compete for it in the first place. Grand Tutor, of all things. Did you mock Duke Witten after considering the great humiliation he would suffer?”

“Ah, well. I had my reasons for that. The reason is.”

“Being humiliated in such a public place, his animosity toward Your Majesty must be immense. What are we to do… You should have consulted me first.”

Within his curving eyes, his jet-black pupils clearly reflected Lucy.

Even though he was smiling, even though his attitude was indescribably gentle, she felt a chill, as if cold water had been poured down her neck.

Her mouth opened and closed as she searched for words, until Lucy finally managed to squeeze them out.

“I’ll explain. I’ll explain, so!”

“If you intend to give another one of your nonsensical explanations disguised as logic.”

“I had other intentions! Just stop this! I'd rather you just get angry!”

Walter, who had been maintaining a faint smile, relaxed his mouth and returned to his usual stoic expression.

Relieved, Lucy rubbed her arms where goosebumps had formed. As if telling her to speak quickly, Walter shifted closer. Lucy pushed against his firm chest with her hands and hastily organized her thoughts.

“I provoked Duke Witten on purpose. I thought he would only make a move if I provoked him that much…!”

“Make a move? What do you mean?”

“Well… um.”

Lucy frowned, wondering how she could explain this logically.

First, why did she provoke Bon Witten?

It was because she was curious to see how his true nature would reveal itself.

Looking back, in every life she had lived, Duke Witten had been a traitor who worked as a spy for the Empire, striving to sell out Parnas.

Walter and Duke Kill had joined forces to stop the Empire, but with a spy on the inside—and a rather influential one at that—the fall of Parnas was an inevitable conclusion.

There was no guarantee that a man who had betrayed his country three times would not do so a fourth time. But she couldn't punish an innocent man, so after much deliberation, she had laid a trap with bait he would find irresistible.

That trap was the Duchy of Kill.

How would the enraged Witten react?

Would he remain loyal to her, or would he turn his back?

This was what Lucy was aiming for. That was why she had intentionally deceived him. What had Bon Witten’s expression been like in the conference room? Just as she expected, he had looked furious enough to blow his top.

Well, that part was fine.

“Uh… it’s hard to explain, but…”

Conveying her thoughts to Walter was difficult.

No, in the first place, she couldn't possibly tell Walter that she had relived her life three times, and branding Witten as a villain was ultimately based on conjecture.

What should I say? How should I put it?

“It might sound a bit absurd. But will you still believe me?”

The voice that came out after a long pause was laced with anxiety.

Walter nodded with an unconcerned expression, and after a moment of hesitation, Lucy spoke again.

“Bon Witten is very likely a spy for the Empire.”

“To be so certain… is there some information I am not privy to?”

“No. It’s a hunch.”

The corner of Walter's mouth twitched.

Undeterred, Lucy straightened her shoulders with even more confidence.

When you're spouting nonsense, you have to appear more confident and serious than anyone else. If even you seem to doubt your own words, which already sound foolish to others, then you won't be persuasive at all.

“That man is definitely up to something. I may not know much else, but my intuition in these matters is uncanny. Let’s keep an eye on Witten’s movements from now on. I’m sure there will be some kind of reaction.”

She concluded her words in the most impressive tone she could muster and offered a confident smile. Then, a strange change came over Walter’s face as he stared at her impassively.

He raised his eyebrows in surprise, then his eyes narrowed in disbelief, before he lowered his gaze and let out a short, low sound.

What finally emerged was the same emotionless expression that always masked his face.

“There are times when relying on a hunch is better than logic. I would not have understood if it were anyone else, but since Your Majesty says so… I will trust you for now.”

His hand, as he picked up his teacup, was steady. Walter gazed at the brown-infused tea for a moment before taking a light sip, just enough to wet his lips.

Behind his impassive face, skepticism about a sovereign who spoke of hunches grew and spread through his mind.

⚜ ⚜ ⚜

A white carriage passed through the finely paved palace road and reached the entrance to the commercial district.

The number of carts and rickshaws had doubled, and pedestrians carrying bundles of goods lined the road. The carriage naturally slowed, and instead of the sound of horse hooves, a bustling noise seeped through the cracks of the door.

“So noisy.”

Duke Witten, seated in the carriage, cast an annoyed glance out the window.

Among the shabby commoners, the figures of Lycans working as porters were scattered here and there. The procession of the working class, no different from worker ants, was reminiscent of ants heading into their anthill.

As Witten watched them with contempt, his eyes suddenly widened.

There was a woman walking slowly, holding a bundle. Her features were hard to see from a distance, but her golden hair, which stood out in the dim crowd, immediately caught his eye.

The garish turban adorned with colorful beads seemed to be a measure of her origins.

Witten’s eyes blazed as he stared at the woman.

“That mad bitch…”

Staring at the damn blonde hair, the face of that damned wench automatically came to mind.