5. The Play Begins

“Did you see this morning’s paper? The Marquis of Ervatos finally spoke up about that filthy scandal! I can’t believe it—I thought he’d stay silent forever!”

“They say the duchess went to the hotel herself. She shamelessly sought out the marquis for a tryst—right in front of all those men! What could have possibly driven her to act so recklessly?”

“Maybe she’s fighting fire with fire? Whatever her reason, the reputation of House Levantes has been utterly shattered. Who would have ever imagined? The Levantes—humiliated like this!”

“So, what happens with the divorce now? Who’s at fault in this mess?”

The debate that had set Motrel ablaze was finally reaching a conclusion.

A lawyer who had visited House Levantes delivered his report with an air of regret.

“To get straight to the point—the party at fault in this divorce is still His Grace, the Duke.”

“What?!”

The one who exploded with rage was none other than Prince Davit, who had been anxiously awaiting the verdict.

The lawyer wiped his forehead, clearly uncomfortable, before explaining further.

“Under Bessen’s royal laws, any adultery committed after a divorce lawsuit has been filed cannot be grounds for punishment. To put it simply, there is no legal basis for it. Once a divorce suit is in motion, the marriage is considered irreparably broken, and any infidelity that occurs afterward is irrelevant to the case.”

“How the hell is that irrelevant?! She could’ve been sleeping with the marquis all along!”

“Well… considering what the duchess herself said that night, everyone took her words at face value…”

Her infamous line—“Shall I become your mistress?”—had practically announced the start of the affair.

And before that?

The conversation between her and the marquis had been brief and formal—hardly the kind of exchange between old lovers.

“More importantly, there is no evidence proving that the duchess and His Excellency the marquis had an illicit relationship prior to this. No witnesses, either. In fact, they’ve never even attended the same social events.”

“Ha. Damn it.”

In the end, Lorena had fanned the flames of an already dying scandal—without shouldering any of the blame for the divorce.

Worse yet, this was now beyond the royal family’s ability to contain.

Because the man she had chosen to entangle herself with… happened to be someone the people of Bessen adored unconditionally.

What could have remained a local Motrel scandal was now spreading across the entire kingdom.

“That cunning wench. She must have planned everything before approaching Miguel.”

Davit’s voice was filled with venom—until he suddenly stiffened.

He felt it.

A sharp, piercing gaze locked onto him.

Wait a minute.

The prince scowled.

Why the hell was he feeling intimidated?

Why was he walking on eggshells here?

Who was really to blame for letting things spiral this far?

His irritation boiled over.

“Say something, Duke! This is your fault! You’re the one who let this mess get out of hand!”

For three days now, Motrel had been in an uproar.

Frustrated beyond belief, Davit had stormed out of the palace to confront Vaye Levantes directly, intent on strategizing their next move.

Yet for the past several minutes, the duke—the man at the center of it all—hadn’t spoken a single word.

No, worse.

He didn’t even seem interested.

“Look at what that Ingerdian wench you defended for seven years has done! And you still want to call her your wife?!”

Vaye finally spoke, his tone icy.

“You would do well to watch your words.”

“What?”

“Ask yourself—who here has the most reason to be furious?”

That was it.

The first words Vaye had spoken all morning.

And yet, Davit could tell—he wasn’t seething with rage.

If anything, his demeanor was eerily controlled.

It made the prince’s skin crawl.

He could no longer ignore the strange sense of discord he had felt from Vaye for years now.

“Tell me the truth, Vaye.”

“Did you ever actually intend to carry out Operation Canary?”

It had been years since Davit had first sensed something was off.

Operation Canary was never supposed to unfold this way.

Vaye hadn’t needed to marry that woman.

Their original goal had been simple—establish a financial link with Klein Bank, securing a stable flow of funds to Ingerd.

At first, they had only invested some of their private capital into Klein Bank.

Holding significant deposit certificates alone would have been enough to cement their trust.

A forced marriage to the banker’s daughter had never been part of the plan.

That decision…

Had been entirely Vaye’s.

“You’re marrying Lorena Klein? Why?”

“She’s a kind of hostage. With his daughter in Bessen, Vicenzo Klein will have to travel here more frequently.”

“That may be true, but… your marriage carries weight. There may come a time when you could use it to greater advantage.”

House Levantes held enough global influence that Vaye could have been offered a royal throne in another kingdom. Even across the southern sea, the Kingdom of Rublena had already proposed a marriage alliance with the duchy.

In monarchies, it was common for dynasties to shift in such ways.

In short, Vaye Levantes was one of the most eligible grooms on the continent.

Wasn’t a fake marriage a waste of his worth?

Even as Vaye’s wedding ceremony concluded, Davit had clicked his tongue in frustration.

Of all people, he married a banker’s daughter?

She had nothing to offer but her face.

It was an undeniably lopsided marriage, so much so that it was difficult not to be suspicious.

“You’re not getting personally involved, are you, Vaye?”

“That’s absurd, Your Highness.”

He always dismissed such notions with a clear boundary.

But sometimes… sometimes, the way he looked at his wife was odd.

Vaye Levantes was, by nature, a man of cold emotions.

Rational, calculating, meticulous.

A man born at the very top of the food chain, who had never known scarcity, who had everything—he navigated the world with mechanical precision.

Yet with his wife, there were occasional exceptions.

He wasn’t affectionate in public, nor overly gentle, but he was unfailingly proper.

His attentiveness to her was almost delicate.

As a couple, they were a perfect match—not just in appearance, but in the way they carried themselves around each other. It was a harmony that could not have been more seamless, even if it had been orchestrated.

It made her modest lineage almost forgettable.

But at some point… the way he looked at her began to change.

His eyes carried a hunger.

Despite having her under his roof, despite her being his, something within him remained unfulfilled.

At times, he seemed irritated by her presence—restless, discontent.

If she truly didn’t satisfy him, he could have discarded her at any moment.

But he didn’t.

He stalled.

As if he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

That lingering ember—whatever it was—didn’t fully burn out for years.

Only when he finally set down the last of his smoldering cigars did it become clear.

It was over.

By then, Ingerd had developed at a staggering pace.

If they were to take down both Ingerd and the rising revolutionaries within Bessen, their original plan would need to escalate.

There had to be blood.

And for his first sacrifice, the duke chose his father-in-law.

Even Davit had been taken aback by the sheer ruthlessness of it.

But when the day of Vicenzo Klein’s execution arrived, Vaye disappeared from Motrel without warning.

And in his absence—Vicenzo fled across the sea to Grant.

And the duchess?

She sparked a scandal.

The perfect opportunity—seven years in the making—had vanished before their eyes.

Davit rose from his seat and strode toward the duke’s desk.

“Now, I’ll ask you again, Vaye.”

“Go ahead.”

“Do you love the canary?”

“Canary” was the codename they used for Lorena Klein.

Vaye, who had been silently smoking, finally spoke.

The words were almost random.

“She despises me.”

“What?”

“Utterly. Completely.”

“And?”

“I spent seven years trying to understand why. And still—I have nothing.”

“……”

“Did you know? Sometimes, baseless hatred is enough to drive a man insane.”

The mansion around them flickered, overlapped with memories of the past.

For seven years, the woman who had lived here had worn the same expression.

Wide, fearful eyes.

Shaky breath.

A gaze that never met his.

And an undeniable, instinctive revulsion.

A black-furred hound rested its head on Vaye’s knee.

A loyal creature that followed him devotedly.

The warmth of its presence gradually pulled him out of his thoughts.

“Maybe that’s why I lost my mind.”

“Because I could never figure her out.”

Even now, nothing had changed.

—“If you push any further, I’ll die. Do you think I won’t?”

The moment he returned from Soto, he had known.

Lorena had no intention of ever repairing their relationship.

Of course, he had expected that.

She had ransacked his study, stealing every document related to Operation Canary.

But still—Vaye had never truly believed she would betray him with Miguel Ervatos.

They had lived together for seven years.

He may not have known every thought that ran through her mind, but he knew what kind of person she was.

Lorena could pretend to be ruthless, but she wasn’t cruel by nature.

She had grown up doted on, loved by her father and brother like a princess.

She had never once strayed, despite her beauty.

She had always adhered strictly to the rules of society.

Simply put—Lorena Klein was not the kind of woman who could do something she wasn’t morally at peace with.

The wife Vaye knew—his wife—had always been like that.

Even if he could never understand why someone that virtuous could barely stand to look at him.

Davit’s voice cut through his thoughts.

“You never answered my question, Duke.”

“……”

“Can you still pull the trigger on Vicenzo Klein?”

“Or is it love—some foolish, pathetic sentiment—that’s making your hand waver?”

Vaye exhaled.

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

He knew what his feelings were.

And the world—

The world wouldn’t dare call it love.