Chapter 29 The Emperor's Hound
That morning, despite the cold, the wind, and the rain drumming against the windows, Oscar rose in good spirits. He felt motivated—almost joyful. Almost. He chose a fine cherry-coloured waistcoat and black trousers. Perhaps one day he would have to resign himself to asking Abélie for advice on his wardrobe, but for now, it would suffice. Speaking of the young woman, she had learned nothing conclusive and had gone back to snooping around the city.
The young lord had planned to train, then join the demanding Madame Brown for a lesson. And he would very certainly encounter the duchess there as well.
As he walked through the corridors, he caught sight of a carriage through the window—white and gold, its crest unmistakable: it belonged to the Imperial family.
The young lord froze. The Imperial family? Though there had been a few visits of such importance to Eau-Claire, he had never personally attended one. Everything he knew of the Imperial family members came only from portraits in books or newspapers.
But what would an Imperial family member be doing here? That, he had no idea.
He quickened his pace, training now far from his thoughts.
Just as he was about to turn toward the grand staircase, he was intercepted by Brennan, as upright as ever.
The majordomo adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose with a deft motion and inclined his head slightly.
“Good morning, Sir. Did you sleep well?”
“Very well, Brennan, but could you explain why there is an Imperial family carriage in the courtyard?”
The majordomo took a second before answering.
“Well, I am not entirely certain. He did not state the purpose of his visit.”
“He?”
“The Imperial emissary, Sir.”
Some of the tension eased from Oscar’s shoulders.
“So it is only an Imperial emissary.”
Like Lord Brotten before him—though Lord Brotten had only been granted a standard carriage. This one must therefore be particularly important.
The majordomo nodded, remaining just as austere.
“I was actually coming to fetch you. If you wish to attend the conversation, it will take place in the Grand Salon upstairs.”
“Of course I would appreciate attending.”
Brennan nodded dutifully and led the way, Oscar close behind.
From the salon, he could hear some chatting and tensed. He was not the best man for conversation. Had he made the right choice by coming here? Without time to reflect further, Brennan announced him and opened the door wide.
Inside the salon sat the duchess, facing a man the young lord did not recognise. He bore the same crest as Emeric; however, the atmosphere was far heavier.
The duchess smiled and gestured toward Oscar.
“Lord Voston, allow me to introduce my fiancé, Lord Oscar Rivière.”
The man had already risen swiftly. Far from the frivolity of Emeric Brotten, “Lord Voston” had a gaze of stone. Scars marred the little skin that was visible, and his hair was cut square.
A military man, without a doubt.
The icy gaze of the man-at-arms appraising the young lord did not make him falter. He extended his hand and returned a more-than-firm handshake.
“Pleased to meet you, Lord Voston. I am Oscar Rivière.”
“Hubert Voston. I was unaware Lady Brynn was engaged,” he replied with the same coldness he had displayed so far.
Was it a personal jab or simply a test of the truth of their engagement?
Oscar suddenly felt observed and judged in an environment that felt unwarranted.
“Do not worry—we are both discovering the other’s existence,” the young man retorted.
The man did not flinch; ego was not what drove him.
Oscar sat beside the duchess, curious to understand what was happening. She sipped a cup of tea and gave him an inquisitive look.
“Lord Voston has come directly from the capital to enquire about the state of this duchy and report back to the Emperor. Isn’t that marvellous?” she said with a smile.
A smile that showed her teeth.
Oscar raised an eyebrow and turned to the man.
“We received Lord Brotten’s visit less than five days ago. He was also an emissary of the Emperor, if I am not mistaken.”
“You are correct. But the Emperor wished for me to return to ensure that everything is proceeding well here. With monsters roaming the surrounding lands.”
Oscar could not suppress a look of surprise—one that earned him a sideways glance from the duchess.
“Monsters?” he corrected himself. “None have been reported in the area.”
“My fiancé is right. Mulberry and the rest of the duchy have been at peace for several months now. There is no need for the Emperor to worry.” She smiled at the visitor, her cup cradled in her hands. “Though his kindness and diligence are appreciated.”
“I am glad to hear it,” the visitor stated coldly.
If he truly was glad, it showed neither in his posture nor in his tone.
From the looks the duchess cast him, Oscar understood that this was likely not merely a courtesy visit. He felt somewhat overwhelmed by events and struggled to understand what more an emissary might want—though it was difficult not to imagine the Emperor forging questionable agreements.
He focused on the duchess’s gestures. Even today, after more than two weeks at the castle, he still struggled to read her. All he could tell was that she disliked the guest. Beyond that, he had little choice but to let her steer the conversation.