Chapter 92: Chapter 92

Marriage. The instant that term was detected by the voice recognition module, a crack formed in Ren.

Whether it was Ren's expression or a mere fissure in the emotion circuits that should not exist, a faint fracture sounded.

Or perhaps no sound had come at all.

She said nothing more.

Among the sisters, she had never been the talkative one.

In the resplendent banquet hall, the black-clad woman and Yaan danced entwined.

A few nobles nodded at the two, who might even have looked alike.

"They suit each other well."

"Indeed. Hard to describe, but the atmosphere..."

"Seeing them here, I can understand why Her Grace chose that knight."

Each time some spoke as if entranced, the light in Ren's eyes, watching them, dimmed.

Each time an alien sensation she had never felt clawed through her circuits, Ren felt both wonder and an inescapable, rootless revulsion.

Beyond his shoulder, the black-clad woman. After a brief exchange with Yaan, Alienor's face briefly turned toward her.

It wore the rapture of one drunk on ecstasy melted by debauchery.

"Anomaly in the logic circuits... what?"

A clear provocation. Normally she would not care, but this time it was different. A phantom pain filling the void stabbed at her chest.

A dark, murky feeling, unlike what she had felt when with him.

Feeling the emotion circuit, once tainted, grow irretrievably murky, Ren clenched the hand pressed to her chest.

As the music faded, Yaan's single sentence halted Ren's endless downward spiral of pain.

Before her eyes, Yaan reached out and pulled Alienor away.

At the utterly unexpected act, surrounding nobles, Ren watching, even Alienor herself, widened their eyes in surprise.

"I can't indulge you any further."

Having spoken, Yaan turned his back and looked toward where Ren stood. His face was twisted with irritation.

"The condition I mentioned. You will find it hard to refuse."

Forcing a smile to hide her panic, Alienor opened her mouth toward Yaan's back.

The marriage of Yaan and Alienor.

The moment he entered House Dunois, he would gain the full support and power of the Dunois family-Alienor's face, whispering this, brimmed with certainty.

"In return, what is it you want?"

At Yaan's counter-question, Alienor's smile deepened.

A confession, a phrase carrying meaning beyond courtship. As music and noble chatter resumed, that phrase was drowned in the boisterous noise of the party.

Only Yaan and Ren, standing close, heard the voice.

"I want you, born of the Creator's blood, shining alone on the mire of the battlefield, chosen by the angel... and more!"

Cutting her off, Yaan's single sentence froze Alienor in place.

"What... did you just say?"

She asked again, as if unable to believe.

The Empire's second ducal house. One who knows the Creator's secret. One who knows the Emperor's secrets and weaknesses.

And thus wields indescribable power and might.

For an ambitious man like Yaan, risen from the bottom, Alienor's offer should have been irresistible.

Considering his Frame, even more so-so why?

"If I help you, you can become the Empire's hero."

"I have no intention of becoming a hero."

"I can place you at the center of power, without being overshadowed by Lorenz or Klaus."

"And at the same time, fall to being your tool."

Hearing that, Alienor let out a snort. A clear sneer.

"Tool? Then are you not a tool now?"

On the battlefield, the lead is Cain. In politics, Klaus.

"A tool. I don't deny it."

What he did was the underside others avoided-cleaning the bottom.

Alienor's thrust had seen through it, yet Yaan's face accepted it calmly.

"Then why? If it's the same, wouldn't being mine be far better?"

"What you want isn't a tool, but a toy."

At those words, Alienor's speech faltered.

"They revealed their intent to use me as a tool for their purpose. They took off their masks."

"Unlike them, you never took off your mask?"

"Worse. A human made only of masks."

Imperial duchess, power broker, lady who knows the truth.

Strip away the social veneer and the countless masks adorning her, and what remains is not Alienor herself, but endless possessive lust-a void seeking what she lacks without end.

"...Why do you think so?"

"Because for ten years on the front lines, I was the same."

With a cold remark akin to shared misery-or self-loathing-Yaan turned and walked into the crowd.

"His Grace is waiting..."

He left the lady who had been dancing alone in the center of the training yard and returned.

Nobles, startled by the outright rejection, tried to dissuade Yaan, but he did not hesitate.

"You look half-dead again, what's wrong?"

Speaking to the dazed Ren, Yaan reached out his hand to her.

"Let's go. I can't stay here any longer."

Staring at Yaan's blank expression, Ren took his hand as if entranced.

Some moved to block Yaan as he led her out of the ballroom, but seeing his eyes and the Penal Corps brand on his shoulder, they had to give way.

"What shall we do...!"

As Yaan left, Alienor sank to the floor, covering her mouth with her hand. The other nobles clicked their tongues in pity.

Never had she imagined suffering such humiliation at her own ball.

A mere knight had refused the dance offered by a duchess-at a ball invited by love letter, no less.

"St-, Head Steward David! Her Grace...!"

"Do not worry. I shall attend to her."

Blocking the nobles approaching Alienor, David quietly lifted her and took her to her private room.

"I shall attend to you. This way."

Alienor staggered as if unable to stand, but David, supporting her, sighed as if resigned.

"Hide your expression... properly."

As if the situation delighted her beyond measure, Alienor, hand over mouth, cheeks flushed, laughed wildly.

"It was the right answer...! The right answer after all, David...!"

"He, hehe... hehehe...!"

Her mad laughter. She was not the only one who saw it.

Those who had approached to become close to Dunois saw this face and thought her simply insane.

Yet all sought to use her or align with that madness. None refused her as Yaan had.

And none perceived the emptiness hidden behind it.

"At last! I've finally found the one I can love!"

As if she had achieved a lifelong wish, Alienor opened her eyes wide and smiled.

Leaving behind the sight of her lord contorting her face beyond laughter, David sighed while watching Yaan's carriage departing through the window.

"Yan Verkut. You really...."

"Looks like we got on the wrong one, huh?"

Yaan and Ren, riding the train back to Verkut territory, sighed as they exchanged those words.

Whether booking separate private rooms to prevent another incident like last time had worked or not, no one paid him any mind despite his uniform.

As they stepped off the train station, snowflakes began to fall one by one, as if announcing that the snow from the Kelt region had reached here as well.

"When are they ever going to clear all this again."

"The commander's going to shovel snow?"

"Not me-Glaepnir's doing the clearing."

As the two climbed the mountain trail toward his territory in Verkut, a castle gate appeared before them.

"The snow's been cleared."

"They cleared this whole territory? Impossible unless it's a colossus."

In the three days they'd been gone, some cleanup had been done; the sentry on the wall recognized Yaan and shouted down.

"It's the lord! Open the gate!"

When the gate opened, the Greyhounds' forward base revealed countless soldiers and equipment bustling about.

"Pick up the pace! Three more laps!"

"Gyaaaah-! It's hoooot!"

"Extra synthetic fiber goes over here! If you mess up it freezes solid!"

"The armor plate's bent and won't open! Bring the cutter!"

Trainees running along the wall and Dandel training them.

And in the maintenance yard under Brak's command, two colossi were waiting for Yaan.

One was Glaepnir, seen for the first time in three days. And the other....

"What the-why is that here?"

Beside the ash-gray Glaepnir stood the new-model colossus Equites, just entering mass production from House Lorenz.

Fresh from snow-clearing duty, magical heat still rose from its joints in white steam, warming the cold air.

The hatch opened and a figure emerged. A hulking man with broad, sturdy shoulders.

"Oh! You must be Yan Verkut, yes?"

Flashing a grin of white teeth, the giant leapt straight down from the cockpit.

With the dull sound of a chunk of iron hitting the ground, the giant landed and walked up to Yaan, offering a hand.

"Pleased to meet you, Sir Yan Verkut!"

Still dazed, Yaan took the hand and the giant shook it vigorously.

"Hahaha! Feels great to meet a celebrity!"

[Impact alert. Hostile action detected. Response pattern...]

'Ouch. That hurts like hell, but it's not an attack.'

The grip was rough enough to twist a hand, but Yaan kept a straight face and waited for an introduction. No rank insignia, no uniform-just outdoor clothes.

"Hmm? What is it? Staring holes through a man."

"I haven't heard your name yet."

At Yaan's reply, the giant tilted his head, then laughed as if he'd just remembered and opened his mouth.

"Ah! Come to think of it, this must be your first time meeting me?! I heard you're a friend of that Klaus fellow! Hahaha!"

'Someone who calls the Empire's prince by his first name so casually? If he's that high-ranking, then at least...'

While Yaan was thinking that, a hearty voice rang out.

"Nice to meet you! Knight Yan Verkut! My name is Berikt Ros Vailsar! Sixth Prince of the Vailsar Empire and Governor-General of Rubra-Vailsar!"

The giant-Berikt-grinned, showing white teeth, and for a moment Yaan's mind went blank.

'Sixth Prince? Governor of a colony? Why would someone like that be here?'

The sudden information made Yaan's head throb, but Prince Berikt's voice continued.

"I need your cooperation to suppress the colony rebellion-can you help me?"