The Villainous Lady Doesn't Speak Chapter 145

Cleaning up the Twin Peaks 3

The Ealdred Duke's territory was vast. In a room of a small castle nestled in one corner of a forest that sprawled across part of it, a man who had received news furrowed his brow.

"Both Duke Ealdred and Duke Clark have passed away?"

"—Yes, that is correct."

"I see. To have two heads of the three great ducal houses die in quick succession..."

The man who brought the letter bowed deeply at the sound of the growl in his voice.

"Yes. Your Excellency, I wish to seek your counsel regarding the future of the national governance."

"—Is the condition of His Majesty not favorable either?"

The man known as Lord Playstead sighed as he spoke. Whispered to be the right arm of Duke Ealdred, he was a prominent figure within the Alcacia faction, holding considerable influence. He appeared as a dashing gentleman, so much so that the moment he stepped into high society, it was said that ladies swooned in excitement. Yet now, the gentle smile usually gracing his handsome features was replaced by a sharp glint in his eyes.

The tense messenger replied with a strained voice.

"The physician stated that it may be less than a year."

At the messenger's words, Lord Playstead narrowed his brow. He pressed his lips with his index finger and sank deeply into his chair—a habit of his when deep in thought. Eventually, he raised his eyes. The messenger swallowed hard under the intensity of Playstead's gaze. 

"Is it only the physicians confirming His Majesty's condition? I've heard that a magician doubted it and examined him as well."

"Yes, the Minister of Magic, Nicholas Burgson, confirmed that it is not due to sorcery."

The moment he heard Burgson's name, Playstead snorted. A mocking glint appeared in his otherwise noble eyes.

"It was the Chancellor who appointed that incompetent power-hungry Nicholas Burgson, wasn’t it?"

The messenger was taken aback, astonished at how Playstead could know. Yet, Playstead had no intention of answering, his mouth clamped shut as he squinted in contemplation. After a moment, he muttered, "Very well."

"With the heads of two of the three great ducal houses changing, it’s evident that the current advisory council will be in disarray."

The messenger, hearing the derisive words, displayed a complex expression despite his otherwise emotionless demeanor. He could not deny it but was likely unable to affirm it due to his position. Of course, Playstead had not expected an answer.

Now that both Duke Ealdred and Duke Clark were gone, there were no influential figures left in the advisory council. It was easy to imagine that discussions would become mired in conflict, resulting in no conclusions being reached as time passed. If only the Margrave Kennys were present, a single word from him could command authority. Although Playstead deemed him far superior in martial skills compared to other nobles, he still held reservations regarding his political acumen. The Margrave himself was aware of this, often seeking various perspectives from multiple sources, including Duke Ealdred.

However, that would not suffice in an emergency. There was a significant chance that no conclusions would be reached when swift decisions were required.

"I will arrange for another physician to examine His Majesty's condition. If you agree to that condition, I will attend the advisory council."

"—Understood."

The messenger bowed deeply.

"By the way—"

Lord Playstead casually asked.

"Who do you plan to appoint as the next chancellor?"

"That remains undecided, but currently, Earl Mellers is serving as the acting chancellor."

It seemed the next chancellor had yet to be determined. However, it was common for an acting chancellor to remain in office. Playstead frowned.

"—Mellers, huh."

He murmured lowly, then asked, "Is that all you have to say?" The messenger nodded, respectfully presenting the summons. It contained a request for attendance at the advisory council and the date of the meeting. After glancing over the document, Playstead signed it and handed it back to the messenger, not forgetting to add a note regarding conditions. With that, all preparations were complete.

Once the messenger had departed, Lord Playstead stood and gazed out the window. The forest spread endlessly beneath him.

Since the monster attack that occurred during the Crown Prince's birthday festival two years ago, no large-scale incidents had taken place. Instead, the number of smaller monster attacks had increased. Reports were coming in daily from somewhere in the kingdom. The forest that Lord Playstead was currently gazing at had to be constantly monitored. Although the Ealdred Duke's territory still had functional mages and knights, preventing harm to the residents, regions without mages or knight orders had reportedly suffered casualties.

Most nobles, comfortably nestled in their privileged positions, seemed to believe that another large-scale monster stampede would not occur. However, Lord Playstead thought that danger could lurk anywhere.

With an exasperated sigh, Lord Playstead bitterly muttered, "Mellers as chancellor, huh."

The person who becomes chancellor must possess ability, so nobility is not regarded as highly important. Of course, if two candidates have equal capabilities, the one with the higher title will typically be appointed. Historically, there have been cases where a former chamberlain, recognized for his abilities, transitioned from diplomat to chancellor.

Considering the current members of the advisory council and the faces among the bureaucrats, there weren’t many suitable candidates for chancellor. It wasn’t surprising that Earl Mellers, who had long served as the council's facilitator, was appointed as the acting chancellor. However, if he were to become chancellor, the situation would be different. Playstead pondered various possibilities regarding the implications of such an event.

"—The Earlry will be thrown into chaos."

Yet, there were no other appropriate candidates. A few potential names flashed through his mind, but compared to Earl Mellers, they all seemed inadequate. Pressing his throbbing head in response to the unsettling premonition that lingered, he braced himself for the consequences.

****

Abram Clark's funeral concluded without incident, and Liliana and the others were in mourning. Their mother, Belinda, had left early under the pretext of recuperation and moved to a villa in their territory, while Clyde was busy as the next heir. Although Liliana was doing her best to assist her brother, her position as a younger sister limited her contributions. Most of the work of the Clark family was being handled by the butler, Philip, and Clyde.

Thus, Liliana continued to secretly search for evidence of Abram's crimes. Until now, it had been difficult to infiltrate the duke's residence in the royal capital or the mansion in Fortia, but with Abram gone, it was easier to conduct her search.

"—I found it!" 

That night, in the duke's office where she had stealthily entered after midnight, she finally discovered her first clue. It was a black leather-bound diary that she now held in her hands. The old diary was tucked away in a hidden compartment of the desk drawer. This thick diary had been written during Abram's youth and was not a recent one. However, understanding his origins would likely provide useful insights into his intentions.

Liliana opened the diary and began searching for the specific words she sought. To her surprise, she found them fairly early on.

*“Bernardo Chad Ealdred—an arrogant fool who climbed to power through despicable means.”*

The name of the late Duke Ealdred, whom Abram had assassinated, appeared throughout the pages. Liliana’s father seemed to look down on others fundamentally, rarely expressing praise for anyone. When he did, it was only to commend Abram or recognize actions that positively influenced him.

Within Abram’s diary, the writings regarding Bernardo were frequent. Moreover, there were no words of praise; instead, every mention of Bernardo was filled with malice and hatred.

*“He is full of himself, believing he knows everything. He is nothing but an eyesore. Why is everyone deceived by that facade? Even His Majesty thinks of that man as the 'Wise One.' It is utterly ridiculous.”*

However, he could never voice these true feelings. The young Ealdred duke was so admired by the kingdom's nobles that it was beyond comprehension.

*“It’s tiring to talk to fools who blindly believe that dominating multiple chessboards showcases superior ability.”*

There was only a five-year age difference. Abram was younger than Bernardo. Over time, the young Duke Clark nurtured a growing sense of frustration, feeling he was not being recognized justly.

Whenever Abram voiced his opinions, the nobles from their parents' generation favored Bernardo’s words. Of course, Abram's abilities were acknowledged; otherwise, the policies he proposed would never have been adopted. Yet, to him, it seemed everyone was simply favoring Bernardo.

*“Why does that man appear in my path and hinder me? Does he think of nothing but disrupting the order of the world I am meant to govern? There is no place for that man to be—yet I want to take away even the little place he occupies.”*

Eventually, the diary's tone shifted. This change occurred one week before the death of Bernardo's first wife.

*“Soon, everything will come to an end for that man. He will no longer be able to mock me. The day his honor is tarnished is near. I will not let him escape; Bernardo Chad Ealdred—your ruin is imminent. After I have thoroughly made you suffer under the stigma of murdering your wife, I shall purge you with my own hands.”*

Abram left behind ecstatic words when Bernardo's wife died.

*“Even with that brilliant mind that everyone praises, that man has been forsaken even by the god he believes in. To throw everything away for the death of a single person—indeed, that man was not worthy of the title of 'Wise One.'”*

After Bernardo Chad Ealdred retreated to his territory following his wife’s death, Abram's diary regained its brightness. On the day he was appointed chancellor, his joy was evident.

*“I was right all along. The path to accomplishing everything is naturally opening up before me. Things have already started moving. The lord who has retreated and allowed his mind to rust cannot possibly understand my noble aspirations. That pretender to wisdom, praised for being able to read the future, is of no consequence. I am akin to a god now. No one can stop me.”*

Even so, his resentment toward Bernardo seemed to persist; though it decreased in frequency, he still referred to that hated man whenever possible.

*“That calm face, as if he knows everything, is burned into my eyelids. It haunts me in my dreams. All I can do is picture the day I will slice that face to pieces. I hate him, I hate him, I hate him— I want to kill him right now.”*

At first, he had been satisfied that Bernardo was secluded in his territory. However, as time passed, his hatred intensified, and anger consumed him.

*“I loathe everything about him—his face, his clothes, even his breath. Just the thought of him being alive fills me with a rage that bubbles up from my gut. I want to see that man, suffering and begging for my forgiveness with a face soaked in tears and snot. Would tearing his limbs apart and feeding him to monsters in front of his children bring me relief?”*

Even after retreating to his estate, the rumor that he had killed his wife spread throughout high society, yet Bernard Chad Ealdred’s reputation did not significantly decline. Those who knew his true character did not believe the rumor and even denied it. Thus, the rumor soon died out, further inciting Abram's fury.

While Abram had become chancellor in Bernard's stead, every time he worked, he felt Bernard's presence everywhere. Occasionally, he heard whispers of “If only Duke Ealdred were here.” Some would wonder, “What would he do?” Even carrying a stain on his reputation, Bernard’s intellect captured the hearts of the nobility.

Still, Abram’s reputation and authority were undoubtedly on the rise. However, while his abilities were only ever regarded as equal to those of Duke Ealdred, they could never be said to surpass them.

This was what wounded Abram Clark's pride.

“That man is an eyesore――”

It didn’t take long for anger to transform into hatred. He was simply too bothersome.

And when Duke Ealdred finally stepped back onto the stage――then, the preparations of Duke Clark would be complete. The circumstances were set in place for him to take that life whenever he issued the order.

—How I wanted to witness that struggling, suffering figure with my own eyes. On this finest of days, I would toast with the wine I had been saving for this moment, celebrating that man’s disgraceful death.

The diary in Liliana's possession was from Abram's youth. However, if the duke had written about the assassination of Duke Ealdred in the diary, he surely would have expressed such sentiments. This was an easy enough conclusion to reach, causing Liliana to exhale deeply.

Reading the diary soaked in hatred was a burdensome task. Her heart felt heavy. Despite not much time having passed, she felt terribly fatigued. Liliana returned the diary to its original place.

“What a foolish man.”

He spent his life nurturing nothing but hatred and selfish grudges. What a wasteful life it was.

How one should live their life varies depending on their values. Still, her father's way of living felt incredibly empty. Surely, even if he were alive, he would never atone for his sins. He would only resent those who drove him to ruin, thinking only of using others as stepping stones to reclaim his position.

A fleeting regret passed through her mind that she shouldn’t have read the diary if it was going to make her feel so gloomy. Yet at the same time, Liliana felt certain.

From not only his usual behavior but also the character that could be discerned from Abram's youthful diary――a cold, cruel, self-serving egoist. He lacked empathy and had no qualms about lying. He bore no guilt and had an inflated sense of self-esteem. Above all, he was eloquent and was praised by those around him.

While no such concept existed in this life, there was a perfectly fitting term in her memories from her previous life.

“――Father was a psychopath.”

Liliana sighed, confident that the possibility she had faintly sensed was correct. Now, she felt nothing but sympathy for Belinda, who married Abram. Surely, if her mother hadn’t married her father, Belinda would have been an ordinary woman. She wouldn’t have insulted or mistreated Liliana, but would have cherished her just like Clyde. Now, it was nothing more than a hypothetical scenario, and even if she understood it, she would have to answer ‘no’ if asked whether she could approach her mother. Belinda would not accept Liliana, nor did Liliana wish to improve her relationship with Belinda.

“If Father was a psychopath, then there must be some evidence left behind.”

Liliana murmured, attempting to switch her mindset. A psychopath’s defining trait is “lack of guilt,” and even if they commit heinous murders, there is no sign of remorse. Furthermore, believing in their own righteousness, they sometimes publish acEarls of their crimes. If this was true, then Abram likely did not perceive his actions as criminal. In that case, he wouldn’t have eliminated the evidence, leaving it somewhere. The conjecture Abram had written in a letter to Lord Playstead about Duke Ealdred was spot on.

“Let’s search again, from the beginning.”

Liliana steeled herself. First, she needed to acquire the evidence and grasp the full scope of her father’s machinations. Without that, she wouldn’t be able to progress. Liliana had an instinct.

—Even if her father was dead, his influence would still linger everywhere.

—-

ToC 

Chapter 146