Chapter 57
Are You Really Going to Let the Captain Go Like This?
“Just say the word, my lady!”
Larisa looked ready to storm into the kitchen at any moment, but Anette gently raised her hand, like a fluttering autumn leaf, to stop her.
“Thank you, but I’m fine. I promised His Grace I’d only have one piece.”
It was hardly enough, but Anette spoke without hesitation, determined to show this loyal maid her own sense of honor.
She couldn’t risk being caught by Cardin and ridiculed for failing to resist a mere snack—not in front of Larisa.
“My lady, you’re amazing!”
Larisa, impressed by Anette’s resolve, finally relaxed and smiled.
“I’ll tell the kitchen to prepare an even better cake for you tomorrow!”
“It’s already delicious. Like I said earlier, it’s even better than the one I had in the capital.”
“The chef will be so happy to hear that. Actually, he’s already excited. You see, our master usually doesn’t care for desserts, so things like cake only get made on special occasions.”
Larisa lowered her voice as if sharing a secret.
At House Harzent, discretion was the highest rule. Speaking about the duke outside his presence was against protocol, and silence had become second nature to the staff.
But this was Anette—soon to be the duchess. Last night, Duke Cardin had issued an order to the entire staff to treat Anette as they would him and serve her with the utmost devotion.
Within the duchy, Anette could now go wherever she pleased and do as she wished.
The only limits?
Her daily dessert allowance…
And—
‘The secret room on the fifth floor of the main building.’
Larisa swallowed nervously.
Everything else was permitted, but not that room. Everyone knew of its existence, but only the head butler Hubert, the head maid Mrs. Hilda, and the duke’s secretary Samuel were allowed entry.
Larisa had assumed Anette would be the exception. But when the strict order came forbidding even her from approaching it, she was bewildered.
‘What could possibly be in there… that even my lady isn’t allowed to see?’
“Hey, Larisa. You’ve worked at the duchy a long time, haven’t you?”
Anette’s voice pulled her back from her thoughts.
Startled, Larisa responded, “Yes! It’s been five years now!”
Anette nodded gently. She remembered Larisa mentioning her father had been arrested for involvement in slave trafficking, and that she had found work here immediately after.
“Then… in all that time, has any woman ever come to the duchy or stayed here?”
“A woman?”
“Yes.”
Larisa blinked in confusion.
Anette sighed and decided to be direct.
“I heard His Grace was very popular before he started wearing a mask. I just want to know… weren’t there any women who pursued him?”
Frankly, Anette assumed there must’ve been, even after the mask. She’d mentally prepared herself.
Larisa, finally understanding, grinned brightly.
“Not at all!”
“…Not at all?”
“None! It’s true the master was popular for his looks, but you know… his personality is just as infamous.”
“His personality?”
That was news. The palace maids had said they didn’t know much about it…
As Anette tilted her head in confusion, Larisa—pure and guileless—continued with gusto.
“He’s known throughout the empire! A perfectionist, a cold-blooded man without pity or tears, and a sharp-tongued critic. There’s even a famous story from a fencing competition—he made half the attending nobles cry and run out of the banquet!”
Even toddlers, lured by the shine of his golden hair, would approach him like moths to flame—only to retreat once they realized it was the Duke of Harzent. That’s how the joke went.
“And there was this one lady who had a massive crush on him from afar. She confessed her feelings and ran away in tears a minute later!”
“Would anyone be brave enough to visit him here?”
As Larisa laughed, Anette’s eyes trembled violently.
Meanwhile, far away in his office, Duke Cardin—who had sworn to make Anette happy—suddenly felt a chill.
A terrible premonition hit him—not just a crack, but as if half the tower he had carefully built was crumbling.
He had no idea that even after ordering everyone to serve Anette as they would him, someone would immediately rush to confess every detail of his terrifying reputation.
The Next Day – The Royal Palace of Hayworth
“Please wait a moment. I’ll announce the captain’s visit to His Majesty.”
“I’m not the captain anymore… Just go.”
Jeon Millard, who had entered the palace early that morning, cut the attendant off with a small frown.
The usually stern and quiet Jeon looked visibly different today. The attendant, sensing the tension, quickly bowed and went to inform the king, who was still eating breakfast.
Watching him go, Jeon’s gaze turned heavy.
He remembered arriving at the royal knights’ training grounds the previous night.
From the shrine near the capital all the way to the palace, Jeon and his knights had ridden without rest.
They had finally reached their familiar buildings and practice yard—but the hour was late, and Anette was no longer their captain. They couldn’t just barge into the princess’s quarters.
But there was always a knight stationed at the compound for emergencies.
Just as Jeon called for the remaining knight to confirm the situation—
〈Hey, what’s all that?〉
Brahman squinted at the pile of neatly stacked weapons and armor in the training yard.
Even in the dark, it was obvious that they were of far better quality than usual.
‘Did they replace all the gear the moment they got rid of the captain?’
They all knew Jeon hadn’t even submitted a formal request to the treasury yet. So the royal knights were just about to explode when—
〈Vice-Captain!〉
Mikel, the knight who had stayed behind, rushed out at the commotion.
The moment Jeon saw the look on Mikel’s face, he felt as if the ground had fallen from beneath him.
〈Mikel, good timing. What’s all this? Don’t tell me—〉
〈Sir Brahman, please watch your tone. The captain requested this herself before she left.〉
Brahman winced at the younger knight’s sharp words, but his expression quickly turned grim.
〈What do you mean, left? Who left?〉
〈Who do you think? The captain.〉
Mikel’s voice was heavy.
〈The official from the treasury who delivered the new gear said the captain personally handed over all her savings before leaving for the Alkhan Empire. She asked them to supply the knights well and to use the rest to repair the building—said we wouldn’t have to worry about budget rejections anymore.〉
〈…….〉
A heavy silence fell over the training yard.
Luke, who had been pale with anxiety and guilt the entire journey, collapsed to the ground.
〈She really left…〉
They had hoped—desperately believed—it wasn’t true.
But everything they’d heard from the shrine had been right.
Anette Hayworth had abandoned them.
If she was going to go, she could’ve just walked away coldly. Instead, she’d left a parting gift too kind to bear—new weapons, new armor, building repairs.
The message was clear.
She was thinking of the Royal Knights’ biggest rival: the Imperial Guard.
Unlike their own worn-down building, the Imperial Guard’s facilities were so grand they were almost laughable by comparison.
She must’ve known. She must’ve cared.
‘Why… something so meaningless…’
A building meant nothing.
Back in the present, Jeon ran a hand down his face.
How absurd. Yesterday, he’d been too stunned to even react. And now here he was, rushing to the palace first thing in the morning to seek an audience.
He couldn’t sit still.
〈Are we really going to let the captain go like this?〉
His voice—strained and full of pain—was meant for his grieving subordinates.
No… That was a lie.
Jeon’s expression twisted.
His eyes darkened dangerously.
He had pitied Anette for a long time. But he had turned a blind eye.
For ten years, he had seen her suffer—emotionally and physically—and pretended nothing was wrong.
‘And now, after all this time…’
A hollow laugh slipped out.
He had foolishly thought those days would never end.
But never had he imagined she would disappear so suddenly.
Of course, he didn’t believe she left of her own volition.
It had to be the king’s order.
So how could he bring her back?
The woman who had turned away from ten years as if it meant nothing…
“His Majesty is ready to receive you.”
The attendant returned.
Jeon’s eyes, which had trembled with doubt, turned cold once more.
