Chapter 82.
The Promise with Rebecca
The High Priest Diart had spent the past few days closely monitoring the movements of the former Duke and Duchess.
In the mornings, when he had to attend to his duties at the Temple of the Substitute, he left the task to his subordinate. But by early afternoon, he would return to the ducal castle and personally resume surveillance.
Naturally, what he was most watchful for was whether the two of them were secretly meeting each other.
“If I even catch the slightest hint of that, I’ll separate them immediately. And if they still try to meet again… I’ll raid the scene myself and leave them no room to deny it.”
If that day came, no matter how dreadful the consequences, he intended to report it directly to His Holiness the Pope.
For several days, he had watched them until his eyes ached—but all his efforts seemed in vain. There was not the slightest sign of contact between them.
As soon as Cedric finished his work, he would hurriedly take his carriage and leave through the castle gates.
Rebecca, on the other hand, shut herself up entirely in the dark mansion, as if she were hiding a pot of honey there.
Tonight, too, at precisely seven o’clock, the Duke’s carriage rolled out through the gates as always.
“Well, even if they did get along better, at most they’d be friends. Maybe I was just overthinking.”
Peering out the window, the High Priest Diart clicked his tongue and marked an X in his notebook.
“Strange. Back then, they looked far too close for mere acquaintances.”
A sudden suspicion crept into his mind—could Cedric be secretly visiting the dark mansion through the rear gate of the castle?
…No, surely not.
The Grand Duke of the Empire—especially someone as cold-blooded as Cedric—wouldn’t do such a thing.
Even as he shook his head, he couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that lingered.
There were countless matters in the North requiring Cedric’s attention, yet wasn’t it strange for him to leave the castle every single day?
“No, something’s fishy. I should have just followed him earlier.”
Diart scratched the back of his head in frustration.
But the carriage was already gone, and now there was only one way to confirm whether the two were meeting.
“Hah… Even so, for a High Priest to stoop to this kind of behavior…”
Self-loathing surged through him like a violent tide, but he had no other choice.
Clenching his fist as if to hold his resolve together, Diart briskly started walking toward somewhere.
“Unexpected,” Rebecca said coolly. “I didn’t think you would come here yourself.”
“…”
“And to show up without even sending word beforehand?”
Her voice carried clear irritation.
Even though the Duke and Duchess had divorced, the administrative process had been delayed. Technically, Rebecca was still the Duchess of the Twins family.
For anyone—especially not even the Duke himself—to barge into the Duchess’s residence without notice was a grave discourtesy.
The High Priest had no excuse, even if he had ten mouths to speak with.
But what else could he do?
He wouldn’t feel at ease unless he saw with his own eyes that the two of them were not together.
“Haha… My deepest apologies, Your Grace. I fear the long stay in the North has made me careless. I seem to have made a blunder toward you.”
He tried to smooth things over with an awkward smile—but the act felt unnatural even to himself.
Rebecca’s crimson eyes quietly studied him.
He had never realized it before, as Cedric’s powerful aura always overshadowed her, but now he could sense that Rebecca too possessed a formidable presence.
“Well, she was notorious for her temper before. Even if she’s mellowed lately, that reputation didn’t come from nowhere.”
The chilly aura surrounding her made him nervously sip his tea in silence.
“So then,” she finally said, setting her teacup down softly, “what brings you here to see me?”
Her eyes met his again.
“You must have had a fairly urgent reason to visit me so suddenly without notice.”
“Ah, that’s…”
He had come in such haste that he hadn’t even prepared a proper excuse.
After hesitating for a long moment, he finally managed to speak.
“W–Well… I was simply concerned, Your Grace. I wished to ensure that you were living comfortably after the divorce—that His Grace the Duke was not neglecting you merely because you are now his former wife. My concern got the better of me, and I came without thinking.”
Even to himself, the excuse sounded utterly pathetic.
It made him look like a fool, and the fact that he had been forced into such a position was all the more humiliating.
As he frowned slightly in self-disgust, a small sigh escaped Rebecca’s lips.
“I see. Hearing that you came out of concern for me eases my irritation a little.”
She gave him a faint smile.
From her expression, he could tell she didn’t truly believe his words—but at least the tension around her seemed to ease.
“That’s very kind of you, Your Grace,” Diart said, letting out a subtle sigh of relief.
“Good grief. This whole ducal estate feels like a minefield.”
Then his eyes shifted to her lap.
“You… raise it yourself?” he asked.
Partly to change the subject, and partly because he had been curious for a while.
Rebecca glanced down at her lap, realizing what he meant.
An awkward smile spread across her face.
“Ah… yes. It just happened that way.”
Curled up on her knees was a black cat with blue eyes.
From the moment Diart had arrived at the Duchess’s mansion, the cat had followed Rebecca everywhere.
When she sat down on the sofa, it had naturally climbed onto her lap and now sat there, watching him struggle before its mistress as if amused.
“A cat… watching? I must be imagining things.”
He lifted his gaze again, meeting the cat’s icy blue eyes.
It stared back at him disdainfully, then turned away, burrowing deeper into Rebecca’s arms.
Its tail flicked sharply, as if it were in a foul mood.
Diart blinked in confusion, while Rebecca awkwardly shifted her eyes.
“She’s a little shy around strangers,” she said.
“I see…”
Being ignored by even a mere beast was not exactly pleasant.
But since he had offended the Duchess, he figured he should at least compliment her pet to ease the atmosphere.
“Your cat is quite adorable.”
The moment he said it, the cat suddenly whipped its head around and glared at him as if it understood every word.
Those cold, sharp eyes sent a chill through him.
Then, in an instant, the cat jumped down, trotted across the table, and came right up to him—
—and knocked over his teacup with a flick of its paw.
Clang!
He looked down blankly at the shattered porcelain at his feet, then slowly raised his gaze.
The cat sat neatly atop the table, staring down at him with a lofty, disdainful expression.
He knew it was just his imagination, but somehow, that haughty look felt… mocking.
“Could that creature be the reincarnation of some street thug?”
He was half-serious in his absurd thought when Rebecca spoke again, struggling to suppress a laugh.
“Cough—Ahem, cats do that sometimes. They’re just… curious, innocent creatures. I hope you can forgive her.”
Of course he knew that cats behaved unpredictably—but this one, somehow, felt different. There was a hint of intent in its behavior that he couldn’t quite shake.
“No, no. Cats can’t possibly think like that. I must just be losing my mind after staying here too long.”
Still, no matter what he told himself, one thing was certain: he hated that cat.
Even a mere animal managed to make him feel wretched.
He was convinced now—the Twins family and he must have been mortal enemies in a past life.
Meanwhile, in the southern lands—at the estate of Duke Bold.
The Duke’s face turned purple as he stared at the morning paper, his anger swelling to the point of explosion.
The newspaper in his grip crumpled slowly in his fist.
On the page was a sketch of Cedric and Rebecca, attending the opening ceremony of the Half-Demon Welfare Foundation—looking intimately close.
“Rebecca, you damned—!”
Throughout her marriage, Rebecca had constantly given him headaches with her conflicts with Cedric.
And yet, in the past few months, the relationship between the two seemed to have improved drastically.
“The way the Twins Duke glared at me at the imperial banquet—telling me not to torment Rebecca—was proof enough.”
He shuddered as the memory flashed before him: those cold blue eyes that had looked at him like a man ready to kill.
BANG!
“But why, Rebecca—why the hell haven’t you kept your promise to me yet?!”
Rage flared in his eyes, but beneath it flickered growing anxiety.
Duke Bold had long been secretly receiving substantial support from his homeland, the Kingdom of Kachis—behind the back of the Emperor of the Western Empire.
The condition for that support was simple: he was to steal Lillian’s Heart from Cedric and deliver it to the King of Kachis.
Kachis was an ancient kingdom that had existed since the era when the human and demon realms still interacted.
Thus, the royal family had secretly preserved and passed down many of the demons’ ancient secrets through generations.
When the kingdom’s fall became inevitable, the King of Kachis summoned his nobles who had daughters and entrusted them with knowledge about the Mark and Lillian’s Heart.
Then he gave an order:
“Stay behind in the unified Western Empire. Marry your daughters to the leader of the half-demons, and use the Mark to obtain Lillian’s Heart. With that, our Kachis royal line can reclaim this continent in no time. If you succeed, I swear I will appoint you as the new Grand Duke of the restored kingdom.”
He also promised them abundant material rewards.
However, most of the nobles refused the offer.
No matter their loyalty, wealth, or ambition, none were willing to send their daughters to what was essentially a death sentence.
All except one—Duke Bold.
“To gain treasure, one must sacrifice something, Your Majesty. I will obey your command.”
Not out of loyalty, of course.
Bold’s devotion was to gold and power.
Offering up his daughter Rebecca was no great sacrifice for him.
The Duke and Duchess Bold had long lived without affection, each keeping their own lovers.
Perhaps that was why.
While they doted on the illegitimate children from their affairs, they felt nothing for Rebecca—the only legitimate daughter of their marriage.
The late Duchess Bold, when she was alive, hadn’t cared whom Rebecca married.
Thus, Rebecca’s marriage was entirely her father’s decision. If she resisted, he was ready to beat her half to death to make her wed Cedric.
“Yes, that was the plan… But…”
To his surprise, Rebecca had said something completely unexpected back then—
