The Secretary of the Northern Grand Duchess Has Run Away

Chapter 11: The Time of the Banquet (3)

“Ha ha... Why are you so upset, Luton.”

A man with two golden lion badges attached to his uniform.

It was Major General Gilbert, a senior officer I vividly remembered even from my past life.

“Don’t be too disappointed. Even if I put aside the longsword, most of the military supplies are still produced by the Luton family, aren’t they?”

The middle-aged general, who had groomed his mustache with great care, leisurely drank his wine.

Afterward, perhaps out of some compulsion, he meticulously wiped his lips, not leaving even a single drop of wine behind.

“It’s just that I occasionally change things up for the sake of a little variety.”

“That’s right. We are still using the Luton family’s swords without issue.”

The Duke let out a faint laugh at the generals’ easygoing attempts to placate him and took a sip himself.

However, having served him in the past, I knew the truth.

After barely swallowing the wine,

He would immediately turn his gaze upon Edward, who was in charge of the military supply business.

“Major General, it would have been preferable if you had informed me of such matters in advance.”

At his father’s chilling stare, the second son’s voice trembled ever so slightly.

Even Freya, sitting across the table, lost her characteristic gentle smile in that moment.

“Edward, was there truly any need to consult about something like this.”

Major General Gilbert lifted the scabbard hanging from his waist as though it were nothing at all.

Several other generals, including himself, were all wearing swords of the same design.

“In this era of peace, when there is no longer any rival left in the Empire, what meaning could a mere sword hold.”

A mere sword, he said.

Yet the ceremonial longswords of the generals were symbols of power themselves.

For someone in his position to speak of them that way—something about it was suspicious.

“That’s how it is...”

The Grand Duke of the North could not have failed to notice this as well.

From within the dark shadows of his lowered gaze, his golden eyes gleamed.

“Gilbert, it seems you’ve become rather mild with age.”

“So it seems.”

At Luton’s relaxed demeanor, the atmosphere softened once more.

But I knew better.

“Indeed, this is about the time to attempt a foray into politics.”

The Grand Duke absolutely had not let go of his displeasure.

He was smiling amiably on the outside, but inwardly, he was glaring at the honored guests with a chilling hostility.

However, the same was true of Major General Gilbert.

At any moment, he could withdraw from the Luton family’s business and join hands with another house’s enterprise.

It was nothing but a battle of nerves between seasoned power brokers.

“Now, perhaps it’s time we begin the meal.”

When the master of the house picked up his knife first, the guests followed and began to enjoy the banquet.

As a result, the grand hall was soon filled only with the sound of cutlery striking plates.

After a moment, the main doors opened, and lavish delicacies were brought in one after another to fill the table.

At the same time, a handsome blond cadet quietly stepped up to stand beside me.

“How did you get in here…!”

It was obvious why Tobang was so flustered.

This was an important gathering where no one could enter without permission.

And yet, here I was—a person from a fallen family—boldly making my presence known first.

His insides must have been seething.

“…”

While he shot me a scalding glare,

I quietly fixed my gaze on Major General Gilbert’s empty water glass.

“Excuse me for a moment.”

I filled his glass with the water pitcher.

A perfect arc poured out without a hint of hesitation.

“Ho ho… I was going to switch to wine so I wouldn’t have to trouble anyone, but this is truly thoughtful of you.”

The general’s sly voice struck Tobang’s ears like a blow from afar.

That finally jolted him into looking around in a hurry, searching for any glass he might have to fill.

But my attention was fixed solely on the sword that had become the center of all this trouble.

And then, before long, I understood why the general had refused to keep receiving the Luton family’s swords.

‘This is… the Leonil Sword of the Western Grand Duke’s House, isn’t it?’

A hilt wrapped in fine cowhide straps.

At its center, a beautiful golden lion emblem roaring in triumph.

‘To think this design already existed ten years ago…’

Just as the general had said, with this age of peace upon us,

the generals were no longer preoccupied with national defense, but with politics and factional struggles.

In such times, the most important thing was belonging.

The swords of the Luton family were so plain that no matter how excellent their performance, they never drew the eye.

But this sword, adorned with that striking lion mark, would discreetly confer a sense of unity to those who carried it.

‘Who on earth crafted this?’

An analysis so precise, predicting that symbolism would soon outstrip practicality in importance.

The audacious challenge against the massive monopoly of the Luton family.

‘Just which member of the Western Grand Duke’s House could it be?’

While I was absorbed in this silent speculation,

someone tapped me lightly on the shoulder.

“Would you pour some water for me as well?”

When I turned my head, the person who came into view was Helena Yekaterina, the Western Grand Duke’s daughter, who had caught my eye earlier.

She held out her glass to me, her gaze intelligent and piercing.

“Here you are, my lady.”

For now, I tore my eyes from the sword and focused on filling her glass.

Then, in a quiet voice, Helena softly whispered to me.

“What are you so intent on looking at?”

Her breath knocked gently against my ear.

In response, I looked at her with lifeless black eyes.

“It seemed as though you couldn’t stop staring at Sir Gilbert’s sword while you were pouring.”

‘It’s her.’

The boldness to insinuate herself into the munitions business by charming the Empire’s generals.

The instinct to detect my gaze even among all these powerful figures.

Helena hadn’t simply come as her father’s stand-in—she had come to size up her opponents’ strengths.

“…”

I didn’t offer her any reply.

I only offered a silent bow with a faint smile.

The Grand Duke’s daughter did not particularly rebuke me for it.

Instead, she covered her lips with her fingers, watching me retreat with an intrigued expression.

“It isn’t the sort of gaze formed merely by rote education.”

Helena took a light sip and murmured softly.

When Major General Gilbert, who had overheard her, asked what she had said, she waved her hand dismissively.

“No, it’s nothing. Just something that piqued my interest for a moment.”

After that, several rounds of emptied plates came and went.

The Grand Duke of the North wiped his lips with a napkin and addressed the honored guests.

[Did the food suit everyone’s taste?]

“A banquet in Luton is always satisfying. I had a wonderful time again today.”

Major General Gilbert proudly held up his plate, polished clean.

At that, the Grand Duke chuckled in good humor and rose from his seat first.

However—

The food on his own plate remained almost entirely untouched.

A thick steak still glistening with juices, bearing only a few half-hearted cuts.

He had invited everyone to enjoy the meal, yet he himself had barely brought anything to his lips.

[It’s time to get up.]

Freya and Edward stood as well, following after the Grand Duke.

Sure enough, more than half of their portions were left behind.

Especially the second son—though he was a gourmand who loved meat,

he had scarcely eaten, likely too conscious of his father.

All he could do was walk behind the Grand Duke, his steps betraying his unease.

The Western Grand Duke’s daughter, Helena, followed after them at an unhurried pace.

As her shining golden hair swayed gently, a delicate fig fragrance spread around her.

Reacting to it, I glanced back at her retreating figure.

At that moment—

Helena, who had been walking upright toward the exit, also turned her head to meet my gaze.

Her eyes, blue like a tranquil lake, regarded me, and she offered a subtle smile.

But I did not take that smile as any sign of goodwill.

What she had done to the Grand Duke of the North just now…

It was as if she had extended her sharp forepaw into someone else’s domain.

“…”

Even after those powerful figures had left, we remained in the hall, waiting.

I knew the Grand Duke and his children would soon return, so I kept my composure.

Once the maids finished cleaning, a polished gleam spread over the long table.

After they hurried out of the hall,

the Grand Duke’s reflection appeared once more on that smooth surface.

[…]

His expression was nothing like what I had first seen when I came here.

It was grim and fierce, as though he were about to don a helmet and march into the enemy’s camp that very instant.

By contrast, Edward and Freya, standing to either side, looked as though they were about to lose their minds.

Freya, not being in charge of the munitions business, at least managed to maintain a neutral face—

but Edward, the man directly responsible, seemed wretchedly anxious, as though someone had exposed all his weaknesses.

Despite the fact that he was nearly thirty, an experienced company head.

[Edward.]

The Grand Duke, now seated at the head of the household table, covered his forehead with his hand.

When he finally spoke, every member of the ducal family swallowed hard.

“Yes, Father…”

[Why did you fail to report this matter in advance?]

“I truly didn’t know, either… I was so focused on securing the mines that I couldn’t spare the attention…”

The moment he offered his excuse,

Duke Luton slammed his large fist down onto the round table.

Kwaaang―――!!

[Do you think this affair is worth less than a mine!!]

What made the Grand Duke furious was not merely that his son was making excuses.

It was that the son seemed to believe what they had just lost was indeed worth less than a mine—

and that made him look utterly pathetic.

“Father, our Luton family already handles most of the Empire’s weapons and military supplies…! Surely the generals can be allowed to try a different sword just once…?”

[A mere sword, you say…?]

Luton let out a short, incredulous laugh.

He turned away from his rambling son, sighing as if he could not stand the sight of him.

[That’s exactly why you’re constantly being compared to Eric, you fool.]

Luton could hardly fathom how those who shared his own blood could be so blind.

With nothing more than a curt, irritable wave, he motioned him away.

[Be off. Go and find out immediately what went wrong!]

Edward slowly lowered his head.

Perhaps he was used to apologizing to his father; he silently offered a polite bow and withdrew from the hall.

[And before the next audience, you will report exactly which scoundrel dared to set their spoon on Luton’s table!]

Edward departed the mansion with the retainers clad in black suits.

In the end, only Freya and her attendants remained seated across from the Grand Duke.

[Haah…]

“Father, I will also investigate and report back to you.”

The eldest daughter, dressed in a silk gown, gently patted her father’s shoulder.

Yet not even her affectionate gesture moved so much as a single hair of his eyebrow.

[No. You should be minding the concours that will soon be held here in the Luton Hall.]

If the eldest son, Eric, handled finance and agriculture, and the second son oversaw military supplies,

then Freya alone managed the arts.

Her influence in the Empire’s northern cultural circles was considerable—

she practically presided over all luxury and patronage in the region.

The many theaters and hotels under the ducal house had all been passed down to her.

“Edward surely has his own plans. He’s a grown man now.”

[Age alone does not make one seasoned. And if you mean to protect your own place, you mustn’t be satisfied here—keep your eyes on the wider world.]

“I’ll remember that, Father.”

The thirty-year-old woman placed a hand modestly over her chest and bowed with composure.

Afterward, she too departed the grand mansion along with her retainers.

And so, in the end, the spacious table was left with only Duke Luton sitting alone.

The empty chairs stretched out in a long, silent row.

The Duke stared at that desolate sight with dull, lusterless eyes.

Then, resting his forehead on his clasped hands, he sank into thought.

[I fathered five children, yet not one of them inspires any confidence.]

His eldest son, Eric, was currently across the sea in the imperial capital, holding talks with the crown prince.

Yet in Luton’s eyes, Eric’s ambition far outstripped his insight.

Ever since Eric had taken over, the main revenue of the Luton Industries—the very backbone of their house—had stagnated in growth.

Of course, the overall trend was still upward.

But to the Duke, it was pathetic that Eric seemed content with such meager progress.

The second son, Edward, was no different.

Even when his own business was in trouble, he neglected it, always chasing high-profit acquisitions like mines and real estate.

Compared to them, Freya was rather capable in business.

However, having been born a woman and a second child, it was difficult for her to surpass Eric without some undeniable justification.

If one excluded the youngest, Echina, who had taken the path of a knight, and Edgar, still a student at the Academy—

the Duke of Luton was left wondering whether either of his two sons could truly lead the family well.

No matter that they were his children—he was the sort of man who valued the house itself more than any family bond.

[I shall go out and get some air.]

The Duke rose from his seat, hands folded behind his back.

The chief secretary followed a few paces behind him without prompting.

[I will go alone today. I will return shortly, so wait here.]

“Yes, Your Grace. Please take your time.”

Tobang and I pressed ourselves against the wall, holding our breath in silence.

The Duke passed by us with solemn steps.

In the end, the vast banquet hall was left with only three people.

When the lord had stepped outside, Debier stood quietly by the window alone.

He watched the Duke pacing slowly through the garden in the darkness.

“Tobang Arman, Julius Roger.”

“Yes.”

Both cadets answered in unison.

With his hands clasped behind him, the chief secretary spoke to us.

“You are to act autonomously.”

“Understood.”

Act autonomously.

On the surface, the phrase could be taken to mean “rest at your leisure.”

But any secretary with even a shred of sense would grasp the true meaning.

The fact that we had been left here even after the banquet had concluded—

It meant we were expected to think for ourselves about how to attend the Duke when he returned.

In other words, this was merely a continuation of the test.

“…”

A critical chance to serve the Duke in private.

Fully realizing this, we exchanged a look—

And at the same moment, we began to walk.

To be the first to make our names known to the Duke.