Chapter 91: Weight Of A Duke

"I get to become Duke?"

Vincent wasn’t exactly sure what to say. He was still trying to process the grim news that the Emperor’s time was running short, and now he was suddenly being tasked with preparing to step into the mantle of a Duke.

He slowly turned his head to eye Lucian. "Did you agree to this?"

Lucian didn’t bother looking up at him. Instead, he casually dusted off imaginary specks of lint from his pristine emerald doublet. "What was I supposed to say? Based on His Imperial Majesty’s observation, you deserve the title. It would do you well to show some actual gratitude that you’re even being promoted, especially considering your... unpleasant, tragic childhood."

"Enough with you two," the Emperor snapped, his sharp tone cutting through the thick tension and instantly silencing them both. "Have you forgotten that you are standing in my very presence? There shall be no belittling amongst my greatest commanders. You two have earned your ranks through blood, and I demand that you act like it. You are not children."

The Emperor leaned back, his steady, iron gaze pinning them both where they stood.

"Second of all, you will monitor my two sons and report back to me with your assessment of them. I do not expect it to be difficult, considering they are both already fond of you two." He shifted his eyes fully onto Vincent, his expression hardening with absolute finality. "You will be officially granted the title tomorrow. I have already dispatched word to your king, and upon your return to Vandalia, he shall name you the Duke before your people."

Vincent clearly had something to say, but stopped himself. He was loyal to the Emperor, or at least, the sovereign was one of the very few people he genuinely respected.

In the end, he swallowed his lingering reservations and lowered his head in a firm, respectful bow. "As His Imperial Majesty wishes."

Lucian clicked his tongue softly, a subtle show of annoyance, before he too inclined his head in a crisp, polite bow to the Emperor.

"In terms of ’working together’," Vincent stated, straightening up to his full height, "what exactly are we supposed to do? I trust it does not only involve assessing who would fit the role of a future Emperor?"

Vincent couldn’t help but suspect that there was far more to whatever was truly unfolding behind the scenes. The mere fact that the sovereign had summoned just the two of them alone, away from the council, away from the other high lords, already spoke volumes. What mattered more to Vincent was the impending crisis the Emperor had mentioned.

What sort of challenge did he think the four kingdoms would face in his absence?

More importantly, they weren’t advisors, so why was their opinion on the matter necessary?

The Emperor, however, seemed to have read his mind, because whatever deeper truth he had been about to reveal, he withheld it, letting the silence stretch between them for a long moment.

"If there is more," the Emperor said instead, his heavy voice dropping into a somber tone, "we shall know with time. For now, I cannot be truly certain. Focus on the task I have assigned, and report to me as soon as possible."

After dismissing them, Lucian was the first to turn and stride out of the study, eager to leave the stifling atmosphere behind. However, he froze dead in his tracks the second he felt something sharp and ice-cold press directly against the sensitive pulse on his throat.

It was a blade, small and precise, but deadly enough that even the slightest movement would slice clean through his skin.

The wielder had closed the distance silently behind him. Leaning in, Vincent spoke in a low, dangerous tone that was entirely devoid of warmth.

"You and I share very different beliefs when it comes to how we handle things," Vincent warned, the edge of the steel humming against Lucian’s throat. "You know better than anyone else the only reason I do not drive this blade into your neck right now. But do not push me, Lucian. Consider this your only warning."

With a swift flick of his wrist, Vincent withdrew the weapon and slid it seamlessly back into his coat. Without giving the Duke a second glance, he brushed past him and walked ahead into the quiet corridor, his heavy footsteps echoing with absolute authority.

Lucian stood frozen in the dim torchlight, his hand slowly coming up to touch his unscathed neck, his dark eyes tracking the Marquis’s retreating back with a sharp, venomous gaze.

"A mere puppet telling me what to do," Lucian muttered under his breath, adjusting his collar to hide the faint tremor of adrenaline. He took a slow, deliberate breath, forcing his composure back into place.

He was not going to let Vincent get under his skin, and he most certainly had no intention of joining forces with him. He would perform his task alone, assessing the imperial princes on his own terms and reporting to the Emperor under his own judgment.

*********

"What?! You’re going to become a Duke?" Penelope blurted out in surprise the next afternoon, her eyes wide as a bright smile broke across her face. "Are you serious?"

She looked ready to throw her arms around him, but seeing that Vincent’s expression remained heavy and unreadable, her enthusiastic smile wavered slightly. Surely, becoming a Duke was an incredible honor... wasn’t it?

She cleared her throat, stepping softly across the carpeted floor to his side. She reached out, her fingers gently brushing against his arm to catch his attention.

"Are you not happy about the promotion, Vincent?" she asked, her voice turning soft with genuine concern.

Her touch snapped him out of his heavy thoughts, and he looked at her, the sharp, somber lines of his face softening almost instantly as he let out a long, quiet exhale.

"I mean..." He leaned over slightly, resting his hands on the edge of the vanity table and staring down at his reflection. "All my life, I thought I’d remain shackled to the deeds of my past. I guess it’s just... a lot to take in."

Penelope placed a warm hand on his shoulder, her heart aching at his words. She hated that he still viewed himself as the bad one, clinging to the ghosts of a past that wasn’t even his fault. He was still blaming himself for things he had been forced to endure.

"I believe this is a huge achievement," Penelope said gently, her tone brimming with conviction. "If the Emperor thought ill of you, he wouldn’t have handed you a grand duchy on a silver platter. From Marquis to Duke! You just took the Devereux name to a whole new level. That is something even the old Marquis couldn’t pull off in his wildest dreams."

She took his face in both of her hands, forcing him to look straight at her.

"I know you’re going to have a terrifying pile of work now, endless politics, terrifying taxes, and probably three times as many insufferable nobles to deal with," she added, her serious expression suddenly breaking into a bright, slightly silly grin as she gave his cheeks a firm, affectionate squeeze. "But you won’t have to deal with them alone. I’ll be right there beside you. Listen, tonight, you’re going to walk into that hall and receive your new title with your shoulders raised high, got it?"

Vincent reached for one of her hands, bringing it gently to his lips and pressing a warm, deliberate kiss to the center of her palm.

"Let us leave my responsibilities aside for a moment..." he murmured, his dark eyes searching hers with a rare, quiet vulnerability. "Will you be able to handle being a Duchess, Penelope? I know you are capable, but... the mantle is far heavier. You will be dragged into the teeth of the empire’s political affairs, and I never wished to throw you to the wolves."

"I am certain I can handle myself," Penelope assured him, leaning into his touch with a soft smile. "As long as you trust in my capabilities, you have nothing to worry about. We will figure it out together, won’t we? We are lifelong partners, after all."

"Certainly," he replied, his voice dropping an octave as he pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her waist.

The distance between them vanished, and the heavy weight that had rested on Vincent’s chest all night melted away. Penelope gave him a sweet, grounding reprieve that no title or imperial decree could ever match, and it was one of special effects she had on a man like him.

"The imperial palace is quite grand. Do you want to take a stroll before tonight?"

Penelope nodded as she pulled back. She would love it if she could have her fill of the imperial palace before the day of her departure arrives.

Vincent, however, felt like the walk would be a great distraction for what is to come, and he would be prepared for it.