Chapter: 132
‘By now, that bastard Dietrich must be in the middle of his meeting with the Rosburn delegation…’
Isaac clenched his teeth tightly.
‘At least Father is attending the meeting too. That’s a relief.’
After all, being one of only three Marquises in the Empire was a powerful position.
The problem was, the Evans Marquis title itself originally belonged to Claudius.
If the late Duke of Claudius hadn’t given that title to his younger brother, Isaac’s family would never have become nobles at all.
Which meant—
The only reason Marquis Evans could sit in that meeting was because he was a branch of Claudius.
‘Damn it.’
Isaac cursed inwardly.
‘Lady Lopez… in the end, she wasn’t invited to the banquet.’
It wasn’t because he cared about her pride or feelings. No, the issue was—
‘On the other hand, Lady Ansie was invited.’
Even if the truth about Seraphina and Isaac’s relationship was vague, society believed they were romantically involved.
And yet Laritte was invited, while Seraphina was not.
All because she was the Duke’s lover, even though she was just a baron’s daughter.
That fact alone showed how much more highly the imperial family valued Dietrich compared to Isaac.
Isaac felt his stomach twist with inferiority.
Just then—
“……Chief—”
“…….”
“Chief Priest Evans!”
Isaac snapped out of his thoughts and lifted his head.
“Ah, yes.”
The High Priest before him had a face full of anger.
Isaac quickly forced a smile.
“My apologies. Please, go ahead.”
“There are rumors that Claudius really plans to create a foundation.”
The High Priest clicked his tongue.
“If that’s true, do you know how much damage it will do to our Temple?”
“….”
Claudius again.
Isaac’s eyes turned cold.
The High Priest pressed on.
“You know why we’re sending the Chief Priest as our representative to the banquet, don’t you?”
Of course he knew.
It meant he had to wag his tail at Dietrich like a dog.
Isaac forced his lips into a tight smile.
“Please, handle this matter properly.”
“But High Priest, that’s—”
“I trust you’ll take care of it.”
The High Priest’s voice was firm, his eyes sharp beneath his drooping wrinkles.
“…Yes.”
Isaac had no choice but to nod.
The High Priest rose abruptly and left without even a farewell.
‘Again. Again!’
Staring blankly at his retreating back, Isaac clenched his fists furiously.
‘Once again, I have to bow my head to that bastard Dietrich!’
Alone, Isaac felt the urge to scream.
At that same time—
Seraphina sat by the window of her townhouse, staring blankly outside.
The half-melted snow had turned gray and filthy under people’s feet, frozen hard in patches.
It looked so dirty it made her sick.
…Because it felt just like her own situation.
‘How disgusting.’
Jealousy stabbed her chest like a knife.
‘Laritte doesn’t have to look at sights like this, does she?’
The banquet welcoming Rosburn’s delegation.
Laritte was attending, helping the Empress alongside Lady Eva.
‘Why is it… why is Laritte the only one who gets to be happy?’
The Duke’s lover.
A life without lack, bright and glamorous.
A flawless reputation in society.
Friendship with those in high positions.
Everything Seraphina had desperately wanted—
Laritte had seized it all.
Seraphina had always believed that Laritte would remain beneath her, serving her like a maid, flattering her, making her shine as society’s purest flower.
But now…
Those days felt like a faraway dream.
‘Why am I the only one who has to live so miserably?’
Her eyes filled with bitter tears.
Snap!
Unable to hold back, she yanked the curtains shut.
The filthy snow vanished from sight, but the burning jealousy inside her refused to fade.
By evening, the meeting with Rosburn was finally over.
“Was that really Duke Claudius?”
“He’s so young, but it felt like we were facing a veteran of countless wars.”
The Rosburn envoys exchanged shocked whispers.
Dietrich von Claudius.
The Empire’s only Duke, and the youngest person at the table.
They had underestimated him.
Experience, they thought, only came with age. Compared to the older nobles, someone so young was bound to be inexperienced.
But once the negotiations began, they realized how wrong they were.
Dietrich wasn’t just capable—he led the talks, outmaneuvering seasoned diplomats and nobles alike.
“Rosburn’s hesitation to open a port—I understand it completely.”
Dietrich smiled.
“Of course, protecting your nation’s security is natural.”
At his bold words, the envoys exchanged nervous glances.
Everyone knew the Empire wanted a northern port. So what was he planning to offer?
Then Dietrich spoke.
“In that case, why not open a port for trade only?”
“A… trade port?”
“Yes. A port that only Claudius’s merchant fleet would be allowed to use.”
He explained smoothly:
“Rosburn will handle the port’s security. No imperial soldiers will be stationed there. That way, your concerns about military influence are resolved.”
It was true.
Rosburn had refused to open a port because they feared the Empire’s power—especially its army—would spread further north.
Dietrich’s suggestion solved that problem.
But still—
“And what benefit would Rosburn gain from this?” one envoy asked sternly.
“No matter what, I don’t see why we should open a port just for you. We—”
“We’ll double the amount of wheat we export to you.”
The envoys froze.
“….”
“….”
Dietrich didn’t flinch.
“For the next five years, we will send you twice the amount of wheat we do now.”
“T-That’s…”
The envoys were stunned.
Only Claudius could make such an offer.
The Duchy’s lands fed more than half the Empire’s people.
And for Rosburn—an island nation that couldn’t grow wheat—this was an irresistible deal.
They had always depended on imports, suffering under fluctuating grain prices.
If they accepted Claudius’s proposal, their food supply would be secure for the next five years.
And then Dietrich added another incentive:
“Also, the port won’t stay open forever.”
“What do you mean?”
“We’ll sign a five-year contract. If both sides are satisfied, we can renew it again.”
The five-year limit—
To Rosburn, still wary of the Empire, it was a welcome relief.
Silence settled over the room.
