The Voiceless Duchess - Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Translator: Yonnee

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Carlisle admitted to himself that he had been rather impulsive.

When he looked into those eyes, a crooked whim surged forth.

He couldn’t explain why he did it. It wasn’t any different from what he had received so many times since being thrown into the Hoenvalde Castle by the duke’s hand.

Carlisle muttered as he slipped his hand into his pocket.

“It doesn’t seem like the entire Nordvant family is here.”

The vast courtyard of the capital manor was eerily silent. Carlisle lightly swept his finger across the pristine iron gate.

There was no one guarding the gate, and despite him standing there openly, no one came out.

This was a far cry from the strict vigilance of Harnoncourt and Gideon. Even the old Wynbergen mansion, where the owner had been absent for a long time, was still maintained with some minimal security personnel at least.

However, this quiet scene didn’t quite give off the atmosphere of an easy target. Instead, it exuded an air of…

Arrogance.

“Why are you thinking about so deeply?”

“Why is the precious noble lady who should be in the white castle here?”

Carlisle replied without looking back, and Moyer responded in an indifferent tone.

“The New Year’s Ball is approaching, isn’t it? It’s time for people from the North to come down.”

“Alone, without an escort?”

Carlisle turned toward him and tapped the gate with his fingers.

“Do you think this looks like a mansion ready to welcome its master? A mansion that looks as haughty and snobbish as the Wynbergen mansion?”

“Well, that’s true, but…”

Carlisle gazed into the courtyard with a pensive expression.

The woman who had come to Bern alone, without any escorts or maids. The excessively cold walls and withered dead flowers surrounding her. The strange energy that seemed to exude from sacred power, thickly enveloping the woman. And, the silent mansion.

A few years ago, the voiceless ‘Nordvant’…

“You said there was no one by the wall earlier, right?”

“There was no one.”

“Do you swear on the River of Oblivion?”

“You’re asking me to do an oath for such a trivial matter?”

Moyer grumbled but reluctantly agreed, and Carlisle’s lips formed a satisfied smile as he turned away, his entire face lit with delight.

“What’s with that expression?”

Michael stepped back with a vexed expression. Carlisle chuckled.

“I think I’ve just stumbled upon quite an interesting secret.”

He added indifferently as he passed his aide.

“It’s not a conversation to be had on the streets. Let’s go back.”

* * *

Bern’s sixth district was a commercial zone mainly frequented by the lower nobility and knights of the fourth and fifth districts. Major nobles like Lohengrin and Dietrich rarely had any reason to visit this area.

‘So, he must be hiding something here.’

In truth, this was Lohengrin’s first time setting foot in the sixth district.

The small bird-shaped spirit returned to Lohengrin and circled around her. She followed it, taking strides towards the east.

At the end of the line of houses with flower beds in front of them—so small that it would be embarrassing to call them flowerbeds anyway—a stately mansion stood tall.

It was enclosed by high walls on all sides and featured an elaborately decorated iron gate. Lohengrin noticed that this was her destination.

As she stopped in front of the gate, the spirit came close and tugged at her clothes. It indicated for her to follow it, and there was a rear entrance for servants.

‘Quite the setup, I see.’

Lohengrin coldly smirked and pushed the door open. However, as soon as she saw the inside, her sarcastic smile disappeared.

Between the shrubs that surrounded the walls, there were five lamps powered by magical power.

‘Why place magical lamps at the house of a mere viscount’s daughter?’

Did nobles even place such things in their gardens? For decorative purposes, for a mere painter’s house?

Lohengrin walked up to the nearest lamp and opened the lid. She soon found a magic stone inside, glowing with white flames.

She examined the stone with a narrowed gaze.

It was a shimmering black stone. It belonged to Nordvant.

House Gideon’s domain, Rutherwald, had neither fertile soil nor magic stones, which was why the Duke had arranged for his son to be engaged to Lohengrin—it was for the express reason of obtaining a share of Nordvant’s magic stone mines.

Lohengrin looked at the stone with a steely gaze, then clenched it in her hand.

‘I didn’t hand this over for it to be used in a place like this.’

In an instant, the magic stone was quickly drained of its power, causing it to crumble to pieces. She flicked her hand to remove the remaining dust.

Lohengrin passed by the garden filled with many colorful flowers, then walked towards the entrance of the mansion.

In front of it, a white birch tree stood. Her casual glance caught something on the rough bark.

Comb-like etches, dates beside each line, and the name ‘Vincent.’ It was a record of the child’s growing height.

Lohengrin raised an eyebrow and approached the door. She canceled the concealment magic and placed her hand on the doorknob.

The New Year’s celebration was approaching, and it was a suitable time for her to arrive in Bern. It had been four weeks since Dietrich visited Nordvant, so there was enough time.

If she were to call Herta and Lennert at dawn and ask them to come here secretly at dawn…

Lohengrin grasped the doorknob with her fingers and tapped it gently with her fingers. Her eyes, previously lost in thought, became calm and composed.

Or perhaps, should she go back to the castle and let her father know about this matter? Or should she just confront Dietrich right here, letting him know that she already knew everything?

After a long while, having made her decision, she firmly held the doorknob.

Thud, thud, thud.

The heavy sound of metal knocking on wood echoed.

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