Chapter 30
Riftan cursed at himself and turned around. He intended to tell the Duke of Croix the cost of prolonging the conflict with Dristan's troops camping on the border, before the Duke earnestly discussed matters with the messengers. However, the Duke flatly rejected his request for an audience, saying he was too busy to make time for him.
Riftan's face hardened at the insulting treatment. Even the Duke had no right to disrespect the king's vassals that way. Riftan silently turned around despite the humiliation he had just received, not wanting to create a scene expressing his displeasure.
The Duke of Croix continued to reject his requests and delayed meeting the messengers, reasoning that he was too busy overseeing the estate. It was only after the third day after arriving at the castle that they were able to properly discuss with him face-to-face.
The messengers naturally took on an overbearing attitude and expressed their displeasure. Their anger only aroused further as the Duke also claimed that Dristan's demands violated his authority as a Lord. He provoked them more when he announced that he intended to collect compensations for the damages of the conflict. As a result, the Driftan's messengers felt outraged and the negotiations got on the verge of a downward spiral towards catastrophe.
Riftan recorded all the happenings and sent a telegram to their commander. Contrary to their expectations that the negotiations would conclude within three or four days, it dragged on for longer than a week. He was sick and tired of waking up to the bluish dawn of the west, yet the Duke Croix appeared to be unwilling to yield to Dristan's demands. In the worst-case scenario, things could blow up to an all-out-war.
Riftan pictured in his mind the fierce battle ahead. If the Royal Army of Dristan intervened, Whedon would surely retaliate and send additional reinforcements. At that point, he wouldn't be able to return to Anatol for at least a year's time.
No, maybe I will never be able to return again...
Riftan's lips twisted cynically as he approached the castle walls. The war ahead could decapitate anyone's head at one mistake: he had witnessed countless men die insignificantly and he was not conceited enough to think that no one else in the world was stronger than him. Having taken countless lives himself, he was clearly aware of the fact that his life could end just as such.
Just in case, Riftan decided to send a telegram to Anatol and quickly crossed the forests where the light of dawn was still dim. Suddenly, he saw someone running from a distance and stopped on his tracks. The person didn't appear to be a maid, she was wearing a dress so long that it dragged against the ground.
What the hell is a noble woman doing this early in the day?
Riftan narrowed his eyes as he thought suspiciously, watching the woman. Then, his whole body hardened. He caught a clear glimpse of red hair flowing through her black robes as the girl turned around. He was convinced that there was only one person in the world who had that kind of hair, and it was Maximillian Croix. The girl's hair was different from other red hairs. Her voluminous, wavy hair had a reddish-brown color, had an almost purple tint to it in the dark, and a few strands glimmered gold under the bright sun.
All of a sudden, his heart pounded fast and strong against his ribs. It was his first time seeing her since he returned to the Croix Castle. Riftan was torn between yearning to meet her and the urge to ignore her, but his conflict didn't last long. Standing stiffly on the spot, Riftan let out a low moan and chased after her trail. Even if it was only around the castle grounds, he couldn't let her wander alone through the dark forest, not when she had already been seriously injured before. A slight anger arose within him as he recalled her cold body that was bitten with a venomous monster's fangs.
