The news of the divorce shook the entire Empire. Everyone had believed that the Duke and Duchess of the North were a perfect match. With the dissolution of their union, the central nobles swiftly severed their ties with the Northern Duchy. The Duke and Duchess travelled to the Capital to finalize their divorce, and with the Emperor's permission, the separation was concluded. The Duke paid a sum of 10,000 gold coins as alimony to the Duchess.
Following the proceedings, they each returned to their respective territories. However, peace was short-lived. Soon after, troubling news spread throughout the Empire—an enemy nation had launched an invasion. Traditionally, the Northern Duke was responsible for the Empire's defense and true to his duty, Alex Luxembourg led his forces into battle.
The conflict escalated rapidly. The central nobles, having already severed ties with the North, refused to send aid. Initially, the Northern forces held their ground, but as the war progressed, the lack of support made it increasingly difficult to sustain the fight. Desperate, Alex sent numerous letters pleading for reinforcements, yet the central nobles remained unresponsive.
The Emperor, fully aware of the dire situation, did all he could to provide assistance. However, with the noble families refusing to contribute troops or resources, his hands were tied. As time passed, the Northern army suffered heavy losses. The enemy forces seized multiple villages, exploiting the helpless citizens. Seeing the gravity of the situation, the Emperor summoned the central nobles and commanded them to send reinforcements.
"The Northern Duchy must protect the Empire from invasion," they protested. "If they cannot manage, they should relinquish that position."
In his chambers, the Emperor sat deep in thought, his expression grim. The Empress sat beside him, offering comfort as he spoke.
"The previous Duke was right. I granted the central nobles too much power, and now they defy me at every turn. They know the Northern situation, yet they refuse to act. Despite everything Alex has done, he fights alone. And here I am, unable to help him."
The Empress placed a reassuring hand on his. "You're Majesty, have faith in him. He is the son of a lion, and only a lion's fight, risking everything for their domain."
The war continued, and the citizens of the Empire grew increasingly anxious. Without the North securing the borders, their safety was uncertain. The central nobles, seeing an opportunity, began spreading rumors against the Northern Duke.
As the enemy nation seized 15 villages, they began demanding a ransom from the Empire. The central nobles saw this as their chance to dismantle the Northern Duchy. Marquis Morgan, the leader of the central faction, convened a meeting.
"Now is the moment we have been waiting for. The Northern Shields, which protect the Royal Family, have fallen. It is time to take control and protest against the Northern Duchy."
With Alex preoccupied at the frontlines, the central nobles exploited the situation, rallying citizens to join their cause. The Emperor, though aware, remained silent. For six months, protests raged against the Northern Duchy, and the nobles believed they had won.
Then, one day, the Emperor summoned every noble family to a public meeting, allowing citizens to attend as well. The gathering was tense as the Emperor took his place. Seeing an opportunity, Marquis Morgan stepped forward with other nobles beside him.
"Your Majesty," he began, his voice carrying authority, "the Northern Duke has failed to protect our borders, allowing the enemy to seize our lands. Innocent citizens are suffering under enemy rule, yet he remains incapable of defending them. We must take action against him, for if he remains free, the entire Empire will soon fall."
He paused for dramatic effect, glancing at the Emperor, expecting his approval. However, the Emperor's expression was unreadable. The room fell silent as he spoke.
"Marquis Adel Morgan, do you believe I am weak? Do you think I am incapable of protecting my Empire? Do you take the Ducal families for fools?" His voice carried a dangerous edge.
The noble faltered as the Emperor continued, "The Northern Duchy suffers because the central nobles, who once pledged their support, betrayed their word. When your daughter divorced Alex, you demanded alimony, fully aware of his financial strain. Yet, when he requested aid, you turned your back on him. And now, you dare stand before me, questioning his loyalty?"
Marquis Morgan's face paled. The nobles behind him exchanged nervous glances, their confidence wavering.
"You spread rumors, misleading the citizens," the Emperor continued, his voice thundering through the hall.
"B-But, Your Majesty—" Morgan stammered.
"Silence!" the Emperor commanded. He motioned to a soldier, who stepped forward carrying a sealed letter. The Emperor took it and began reading aloud.
"Greetings to Your Majesty,
I, Alex Luxembourg, Duke of the North, inform you that we have begun reclaiming the villages taken from us. In the beginning, we faltered because of traitors who leaked our strategies to the enemy. We have identified the culprit and are sending him to the Capital for judgment. Trust in me, Your Majesty—I will reclaim all that has been stolen from us, by force if necessary, and restore the Duchy to its former glory.
Your faithful comrade,
Alex Luxembourg, Duke of the North."
As the Emperor's voice echoed through the hall, murmurs spread among the crowd. Then, suddenly, the citizens erupted in cheers, chanting the Northern Duke's name.
The nobles who had led the protest found themselves drowning in the overwhelming support for Alex. Marquis Morgan, once so confident in his schemes, stood frozen, his face drained of color. The Emperor observed the shifting tides and smirked.
"The North has never fallen," he declared. "And it never will."
After the Emperor's declaration, the rumors spread by the Central nobles began to wane, and the citizens started questioning their true motives. As time passed, the influence of the Central nobles dwindled, while Duke Alex Luxembourg's reputation flourished. The people's trust in the Northern Duchy was restored, and murmurs of admiration replaced whispers of doubt.
A year later, triumphant news echoed throughout the Empire: "The enemy has retreated! The Northern army has reclaimed all lost lands and emerged victorious!" The announcement sent waves of relief and celebration through the Empire. The citizens rejoiced, eager to see the hero of the war. However, as the battle had only recently concluded, Alex remained occupied with governing and rebuilding his war-torn lands. As a result, he did not attend the grand victory ceremony held in his honor.
Two years passed, and by the time Duke Alex Luxembourg turned twenty-five, both he and his sister had tirelessly worked to restore and strengthen the Northern Territory. Under their leadership, the land prospered, reclaiming its former prestige and economic strength. Word of the North's rapid development spread far and wide, garnering admiration and envy alike.
Marquis Morgan, having closely monitored these developments, convened a meeting with the Central nobles. The gathering was tense, filled with uncertainty. As they deliberated, Baron Vista stood abruptly and voiced his concerns. "Marquis, how much longer must we wait? The North has not only reclaimed its land but has grown stronger. Even the Emperor has sided with them. Our influence is fading by the day!"
The room erupted in murmurs as the nobles exchanged uneasy glances, each searching for a solution. However, no decisive course of action emerged from the meeting, and the nobles departed without a clear strategy.
The following day, Marquis Morgan sat alone in his study, deep in thought. Frustration lingered in his eyes as he contemplated their declining power. His thoughts were interrupted by a familiar voice outside his window. Peering out, he saw his daughter, Maria, conversing with her friends. An idea took root in his mind. Without hesitation, he called for his butler.
"Summon Maria," he instructed.
Minutes later, Maria entered his study, offering a respectful bow. "Father, you called for me?"
Marquis Morgan gestured for her to sit. His gaze was calculating as he spoke, "Maria, you are well aware of the circumstances we face. The power of the Central nobles is slipping, and I have exhausted every strategy to counter the North's rise. Now, my only option is to secure an alliance through marriage."
Maria remained composed, awaiting his next words.
"You will marry Oliver Ferdinand, the eldest son of the Ferdinand family of the South. They are the second most powerful family after the Southern Ducal House. With their support, we can reclaim our influence."
Maria remained silent, nodding once before excusing herself. She had anticipated this conversation but chose not to resist. Her father's decisions were final.
Shortly after, the Marquis gathered the Central nobles and revealed his plan. "With the Ferdinand family on our side, we will rebuild our strength. This marriage will solidify our standing."
The nobles welcomed the idea eagerly, and preparations for the grand wedding commenced.
News of the engagement between Marquis Morgan's eldest daughter and Oliver Ferdinand, heir to the Ferdinand family, spread rapidly across the Empire. It became the most talked-about subject in high society. Many nobles sought to align themselves with Marquis Morgan, eager to secure a place in his newfound strategy.
The Ferdinand family responded favorably to the proposal, and soon, Oliver Ferdinand set out for the Capital. Rumors of his striking appearance, noble demeanor, and influence preceded him, heightening the anticipation surrounding his arrival. The stage was set for a new chapter in the Empire's power struggle.
Marquise Morgan held a grand party to introduce everyone to his future son-in-law. Many noble families were invited, and the anticipation in the air was palpable. Everyone was eager to meet Oliver, who would soon marry Maria Morgan. When Oliver finally entered, he did so with an air of quiet confidence, accompanied by Marquise Morgan and Maria.
Maria, having stayed away from social gatherings since her divorce, drew almost as much attention as Oliver. Whispers filled the hall as nobles observed her unchanged beauty—her striking blue eyes and elegant demeanor made her a vision of grace. Many noble families approached the couple and remarked, "They look wonderful together." Oliver responded with a charming smile, but Maria remained silent, her expression unreadable. She was here solely at her father's command.
As the evening progressed, music filled the hall, and couples began to dance. Oliver extended his hand toward Maria, inviting her to join him. Her initial instinct was to refuse, but a sharp glance from her father made her reconsider. She placed her hand in Oliver's and allowed him to lead her to the dance floor.
Their dance was technically flawless, but Maria's movements lacked any real emotion. She danced as though she were a marionette, lifeless and detached. Oliver tried to engage her, offering smiles and whispered words, but she remained distant. When the music ended, Maria excused herself and stepped out onto the balcony, seeking refuge in the cool night air.
Moments later, Oliver joined her, holding two glasses of wine. He extended one toward her. "A drink?"
Maria regarded him for a moment before turning her gaze toward the balcony door, now shut behind them. She took a slow breath before responding, "I only drink with my people."
With that, she left, leaving Oliver standing alone. He watched her retreating figure and repeated her words under his breath, "My people." His expression darkened as if accepting an unspoken challenge.
The party eventually ended, and Maria retired to her room. Lying on her bed, she turned her face toward the ceiling and whispered a single name, "Alex." A ghost from her past.
The following morning, Marquise Morgan summoned Maria and informed her that she would accompany Oliver on a tour of the Capital. She wanted to refuse, but her father's firm tone left no room for argument.
The carriage ride was silent. Oliver studied Maria with open curiosity, but she paid him no mind. Their first stop was a prestigious boutique. Baron Clive, the owner, greeted them warmly and presented a catalogue of fine clothing. Oliver selected a few garments and stepped into the fitting room. When he emerged, nobles and attendants alike murmured in admiration. Yet, Maria didn't even glance his way, offering no words of approval.
"You should try something on," Oliver suggested his a light tone.
"No," Maria replied curtly, making it clear there was no room for discussion.
They moved on to a café, where they sat opposite each other. Oliver attempted conversation, but Maria remained indifferent, only speaking when placing her order. When dessert arrived, she took a bite, and for the first time, something in her expression changed. Her gaze softened, lost in thought. A familiar taste—nostalgic and bittersweet.
"Miss… Miss Maria?" Oliver's voice barely registered.
She remained distant, lost in memory.
"Madam…?"
That snapped her out of her trance. Her head snapped up, and she glared at Oliver. "I didn't give you permission to call me that."
Oliver smirked slightly. "Alright, I won't call you Madam."
The rest of the outing passed in the same detached manner. When they returned, Marquise Morgan awaited them. "How was your day?" he inquired.
Maria merely walked past him without a word. His face darkened, but before he could speak, Oliver interjected smoothly, "Everything was fine, Marquise. My lady is simply tired."
That night, Marquise Morgan knocked on Maria's door, but she didn't respond. He called her name, irritation flaring, but when there was no answer, he exhaled sharply. Perhaps she truly was exhausted. He let it go, for now.
Days later, Oliver prepared to leave. Before departing, he turned to Maria. "I will speak with my father and send you a response soon."
Marquise Morgan wasted no time. Once Oliver was gone, he turned to Maria. "Now that you've spent time with him, what are your thoughts? Do you wish to marry him?"
Maria remained silent. Then, finally, she took a breath and began, "Father—"
A knock interrupted them. A servant entered, carrying a letter sealed with the royal insignia. Marquise Morgan broke the seal and read the contents. His expression darkened.
"To honor the North Duke for his victory, the Emperor has decided to host a grand banquet. As the Empire's foundation day approaches, all noble families are required to attend. – Order by His Majesty, Emperor Alecto De Carsen."
Marquise Morgan's grip on the letter tightened. "Alex…" he muttered, anger simmering beneath his composed exterior.
Maria watched her father's reaction, her heartbeat quickening. Without another word, he dismissed her, stating they would speak after the foundation day.
News of the upcoming banquet spread rapidly. The Capital buzzed with speculation about the Northern Duke. Rumors flourished—tales of his unparalleled leadership, his victories, and his disciplined rule. He had transformed the Northern territory from near ruin into a thriving domain. But no one had seen him in years.
Some claimed he had grown more formidable; others whispered about a scar on his face, concealed beneath a mask.
At a gathering, Maria overheard young ladies eagerly discussing the Duke. Some attempted to question her about the North, but she deflected their inquiries.
"She must be jealous," one murmured.
"Or regretting her decision to divorce him," another added.
Maria didn't react, though a quiet storm brewed within her.
Then, a new rumor surfaced: at the upcoming banquet, the Duke would select a new Duchess.
Panic swept through noble circles. Families schemed and prepared their daughters, hoping to secure a match with the most powerful man in the North.
At last, the foundation day arrived. The palace was filled with nobles in their finest attire. Then, the guards announced:
"His Majesty, Emperor Alecto De Carsen, Her Majesty, Empress Olivia Carsen, and His Grace, the Northern Duke, Alex Luxembourg!"
The hall fell into a hushed silence.
Alex Luxembourg entered with his tall figure commanding attention. A dark mask covered the upper half of his face, leaving only his sharp jawline and piercing gaze visible.
The whispers began immediately.
"The rumors were true."
"He hides a scar."
"Or does he simply wish to keep us guessing?"
Maria remained still, her fingers tightening around the stem of her wine glass.
The Emperor addressed the hall, congratulating the Duke on his triumph and the restoration of his land. The celebration officially began.
As the Emperor, Empress, and Duke withdrew to a private chamber, Maria exhaled softly, feeling a tempest looming on the horizon.
The next day, a grand victory party was held, attended by every noble family in the Empire. Marquise Morgan arrived with his daughters, the eldest, Maria, and the youngest, Masha. As the event progressed, one by one, the noble families made their entrance. The Ferdinand family arrived—Ford Ferdinand, the head of the family, along with his wife, Olga Ferdinand, their eldest son, Oliver, and the youngest, James. Their entrance drew the attention of many guests.
Following them, the Windsor family and then the Mountbatten family arrived, marking the presence of almost every noble house. The only ones yet to appear were the Northern family and the Royal family. Soon, a guard announced the arrival of the Northern Duke, Alex Luxembourg, and his sister, Princess Elisha Luxembourg. As they entered, a sudden hush fell over the palace. All eyes turned to them. Alex, as always, wore a mask, and it was the first time his sister, Elisha, had revealed her face to high society. Her beauty left everyone mesmerized.
Shortly after, the Emperor and Empress made their grand entrance, officially commencing the celebration.
Music filled the ballroom, and many nobles wished to approach the Duke. However, his imposing presence and unreadable expression made them hesitate. His mere aura was enough to deter unnecessary conversation. Meanwhile, Elisha, unfamiliar with such gatherings, felt slightly out of place, having spent most of her life assisting Alex in managing the Northern Territory. The Empress noticed her unease and graciously called her over, introducing her to the noblewomen.
On the other side of the ballroom, Oliver noticed Maria standing alone and approached her with a polite request, "My lady, will you grant me this dance?" However, Maria seemed preoccupied, her gaze fixed elsewhere, lost in thought. Oliver, puzzled by her lack of response, followed her line of sight but could not discern what had captivated her attention.
A few moments later, Maria silently exited the ballroom. Curious, Oliver decided to follow her. She entered a room, and as Oliver reached the door, he found it closed. He hesitated before pressing his ear against it, attempting to determine whether she was alone or with someone. Unable to hear anything, he continued his efforts to uncover what was happening inside.
Just then, Elisha arrived with the Empress and caught sight of Oliver lingering suspiciously by the door. The Empress frowned and inquired, "What exactly are you doing here?"
Caught off guard, Oliver stammered, "Y-Your Majesty, I…I…" He struggled to find an explanation.
Before he could come up with an excuse, the door opened, and Maria emerged with several noble ladies. She immediately noticed Oliver, the Empress, and Elisha standing there. With a calm expression, she offered a respectful greeting to the Empress before turning to Oliver. "What exactly are you doing outside the women's resting chamber?" she asked coolly.
A wave of embarrassment washed over Oliver as the noble ladies exchanged curious glances. Unable to formulate a response, he was left speechless. Maria, maintaining her composure, turned to the Empress and offered a polite apology for the misunderstanding before walking away with the other ladies.
The party concluded, but whispers and rumors regarding Oliver's suspicious behavior spread like wildfire throughout high society. Speculations ran rampant—what had he been doing outside the women's restroom? What were his true intentions?
When Marquise Morgan heard of the scandal, he immediately summoned Maria. "Is there any truth to these rumors about Oliver?" he demanded.
Maria, with her usual composure, responded, "Yes, Father. The Empress herself witnessed him lingering outside the women's restroom. He even appeared to be tampering with the door."
Marquise's expression darkened. "What on earth was he thinking?" he muttered, his frustration evident.
The incident had left a stain on Oliver's reputation, and the whispers of the nobles would not fade so easily.
After the events at the banquet, Marquise Morgan began to question whether marrying her daughter to Oliver Ferdinand was truly the right decision. The rumors surrounding Oliver's actions had spread rapidly, casting doubt on his character. Just as she pondered her next move, a servant arrived, presenting a sealed letter from Ford Ferdinand.
"When will we finalize the marriage discussions?" the message read.
As the Marquise scanned the letter, he realized Ford was just as eager to proceed, perhaps due to the growing scandal surrounding his eldest son. Their mutual interests had aligned, but was this truly a wise match? Despite her hesitation, she penned a response:
"He will soon come to meet regarding this matter."
Meanwhile, within the palace walls, Alex Luxembourg was already preparing to leave.
Sitting in his study, he reflected on the evening's events. "Now that the party is over, I must return to the North. There is much work to be done." His lands still needed him, and he had little time to linger.
Determined, he made his way to the Emperor's chambers. After knocking, a familiar voice answered, "Come in."
Stepping inside, he found the Emperor, Empress, and Elisha seated together. His eyes instinctively fell on his sister—her face lit up with a rare smile. It had been so long since he had seen her look this carefree.
The Emperor gestured for Alex to join them. For the first time in years, it felt like family.
After some time, Alex finally spoke. "Your Majesty, I believe it's time for me to return to the North."
The moment those words left his lips, Elisha's smile faltered. Her hands, which had been delicately folded in her lap, tensed. The Empress, noticing her reaction, gently placed a reassuring hand over hers—as if to say, "It's alright."
The Emperor regarded Alex in silence before the Empress broke it with a question. "Are you going alone, or will Elisha accompany you?"
Alex turned to look at his sister. Her uncertain, hesitant gaze met his. "If she wishes, she can stay here," he replied.
The Empress turned her attention to Elisha and asked softly, "Elisha, my child, what do you want?"
For a moment, silence hung in the air. Then, Elisha stood up.
"Brother…" she began, her voice quiet but steady, "Can you stay with me here a little longer?"
Alex froze. In all their years together, his sister had never asked anything of him.
His heart clenched, a mix of emotions washing over him. He felt a warmth he hadn't known in a long time, yet the weight of duty still lingered heavily on his shoulders.
Tears pricked his eyes, but he turned away quickly, unwilling to let them fall. "If that's what you want," he said after a pause, his voice softer, "we can stay here for a while."
Elisha's face brightened, and the Empress smiled knowingly.
For now, the North could wait.