RPOF 2

Chapter 2

“The only heir of the greatest duke family in the Hilen Empire.”

I thought my life on a dirt road had finally turned into a flower path.
Turns out, it was just a deeper mud road.

The Berwen Ducal House, famous for producing the most Swordmasters in history!

…I never imagined that was because of brutal, Spartan-style training from childhood.

“Your Grace!”

My foggy, sleepy mind snapped back to reality.

The retainers sitting around the long table were all staring at me.

“You can’t do that! You’re saying you’ll freeze the tax rate again?”

I lifted my chin from my hand, pretending I had been thinking deeply. Of course, I acted like I hadn’t been sleepy at all.

A dignified duke never dozes off during meetings.
Absolutely not.

“Why not?”

“The finances are extremely unstable.”

Right. Unstable for your households.

“The territory’s finances are unstable, you say…”

Who are you trying to fool?

“We’ve frozen the tax rate for three years, but tax revenue has increased, hasn’t it?”

“That’s only temporary—”

“No. Because the tax rate stayed the same in good years and bad, the people cleared more land to earn extra profit.”

“……”

“And trade and commerce became more active, so commercial tax income increased too. Do I need to explain more?”

I threw the documents onto the table, clearly annoyed.

They look down on me because I’m young.
But if you count my past life, I outrank you all, idiots.

“What’s the next agenda?”

“The matter of the Yantony Viscount family.”

Yantony, huh.

I tapped the paper with displeasure.

“They still haven’t decided on an heir. We searched the collateral branches, but couldn’t find a suitable candidate.”

“But the viscount has seven daughters.”

The meeting room went silent.

“Your Grace, how could you say that? By imperial law, women cannot inherit titles or property.”

“…It was a joke.”

Of course I knew the law.

I’m wearing men’s clothes right now because of that damn law.

The retainers laughed loudly, not knowing how twisted I felt inside.

“Honestly, Your Grace, you startled us.”

“Haha, indeed. How could a woman inherit a family?”

“That family wouldn’t last three days if a woman led it.”

That woman would be your lord.

I swallowed the words rising to my throat.

If my secret were revealed, even as a duke, I wouldn’t escape punishment.

“What happens to the daughters if no heir is found?”

“They’ll lose the title and family name.”

“They’ll become fallen nobles.”

“Viscount Guillon, doesn’t your son like the second daughter? This is your chance!”

Bang!

I slammed the table.

“Is this a back-alley tavern?!”

Men decades older than me shrank back.

“How vulgar.”

This was the perfect moment to leave.

My mood had been ruined long ago, so I stood up openly irritated.

It wasn’t because I wanted to end the meeting early.
Really. Totally not.

“I’ll handle this matter personally. Don’t interfere. Dismissed.”

I left the room with my knights.

Even after the heavy doors shut with a loud thud, I stayed standing.

“As expected of someone close to becoming a Swordmaster. Your presence is overwhelming.”

“Yes. The imperial family will be shocked to see how much you’ve grown.”

“Why would you say that and put me in an awkward spot?!”

“Viscount Guillon! How hurtful. I said it for your sake!”

I relaxed my ears and listened to the retainers arguing behind the door.

Honestly. If I didn’t have memories from my past life, the Berwen family would’ve collapsed already. Probably.

“Tell my aunt about the viscount family. She’ll gladly become guardian to the seven daughters.”

I patted the knight beside me on the shoulder.

“I’ll advance you three months’ pay. That should be enough for a wedding.”

“…Thank you.”

The knight knelt on one knee, deeply moved.

Of course.
He was the lover of Cavy, the second daughter who had just been mocked.

“I’ll serve you with my life!”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

It’s unfortunate, but things like this happen far too often in this world.

If I cared about every case, the ducal house would collapse.

This time, it worked because profit and justice happened to align.

“By the way, a guest has arrived.”

“Yes. A suspicious man in a robe. He claims to be a merchant.”

“I see.”

Ah. A dark mage.

To hide my increasingly feminine appearance as I age, I had no choice but to rely on dark magic.

Because of that, meeting a dark mage once a year had become routine.

“Bring him to my room.”

“…Yes.”

The knight hesitated before answering.

I didn’t even need to look to know why.

Anyone would be suspicious of someone dressed like that.

“It’s been a while, Your Grace.”

After I returned to my room and waited, the dark mage entered and greeted me.

Wrapped in a black robe, he looked extremely suspicious. No wonder the knight reacted that way.

“Yes. It has.”

Maybe I should gift him a bright-colored robe next time.

Thinking nonsense like that, I held out my wrist.

“Did you hear, Your Grace?”

The dark mage glided over like a ghost and grabbed my wrist.

Before I could react to the cold touch, black smoke rose from his hand.

“There’s an interesting rumor in the capital.”

I looked away from the smoke sinking into my body and focused on his words.

His stories always distracted me from the pain.

“What rumor?”

“It’s about the imperial princess.”

“The princess? Why?”

“They say Her Highness has gone mad.”

The princess is insane?

My pain faded into the background.

At the same time, in the imperial palace of the Hilen Empire.

The count, tutor to the Crown Prince, looked at him across the desk.

He looked like a sculpture carved by the gods—perfect, cold, and merciless.

That was Crown Prince Resius.

But—

“Your Highness.”

“I’m listening.”

The moment the Crown Prince opened his eyes and spoke, the cold atmosphere changed.

Golden hair shining softly, green eyes like a forest.

A man like ice standing in sunlight—that was Crown Prince Resius.

“What did you feel during today’s imperial history lesson?”

“Well… the past emperors of Hilen—”

Resius smiled faintly and tapped the imperial family tree.

“I saw madness.”

His words were sharp—and true.

Hilen emperors were obsessed with something. Land, power, or love.

“I don’t want to go mad.”

Resius lowered his sharp eyes.

The count believed his student was different.

At least, until recently.

‘The Crown Prince is known for being gentle, but considering recent events…’

The conscription age was 18, but knights were exceptions.

When a proposal to send the underage Duke of Berwen to war was about to be approved—

It was the Crown Prince who stopped it.

‘They said his eyes were filled with madness that day.’

The count hadn’t been present, but that’s what he heard.

And lately, those who pushed that proposal had been arrested for corruption—or disappeared from court.

“…I see.”

Sensing the count’s doubt, Resius frowned slightly.

“Rosaline.”

He pointed out the window, cutting off the suspicion.

The count groaned and held his head.

It was because of the palace’s biggest headache lately.

The imperial princess.

“Your Highness! Please stop running!”

“Your Highness, royals must not run! Ah—my ankle!”

“Princess! Noble etiquette forbids showing your ankles when lifting your skirt!”

Her etiquette tutor and nanny tried desperately to stop her, but it only got worse.

“The—underskirt!”

Only after the marchioness collapsed did the princess shout:

“Why are you fainting over this?! Damn it, this is driving me crazy!”

The Crown Prince’s fingers stopped tapping the desk.

“…What language is ‘damn it’?”

“We searched ancient languages and all continental tongues, but we couldn’t identify it.”

His fingers resumed tapping.

‘She changed after falling into the water.’

After falling into the lake and waking up, his sister became a completely different person.

She muttered strange words, forgot etiquette, cried and laughed unpredictably.

She even tried to escape the palace several times.

‘That’s why her nickname lately…’

Resius rubbed his aching temple.

The count knew that nickname too.

‘They say the princess got a strange nickname. This will ruin the Emperor’s plans.’

The current Emperor had chosen the Duke of Berwen as the princess’s future husband.

“The princess’s illness is troubling for the royal family.”

“……”

“If the Duke of Berwen comes to the capital, we could discuss marriage.”

The count spoke without thinking.

The Duke of Berwen was the empire’s ideal groom—handsome, a Swordmaster, wealthy, and honored.

Surely the Crown Prince would welcome—

The count turned his head, feeling a chill on his face.

“Oh. A marriage between the duke and the princess.”

The gentle Crown Prince spoke dangerously.

“Everyone must be very free to worry about such things.”

And for a brief moment, the count saw it—

The madness the Crown Prince was born with, flashing in his eyes.