The festivities were in full swing.
Between the rare delicacies, the fine spirits, and the lavish hospitality, the guests were all wearing bright smiles, and the party had reached a fever pitch.
"Phew... I’m a little worn out."
"Yes... but it seems to be going perfectly."
Viola and Primula were taking a brief moment to rest at the edge of the hall. They had been working tirelessly to host the guests, and the fatigue was plain on their faces.
"You two look like you’ve worked hard. Well done."
Rest approached them carrying drinks. He handed each a glass of low-alcohol juice, his voice filled with appreciation.
"Ah, Rest. Good work to you too."
"I’m so relieved the party looks to be a success."
"It is. And it’s only because of how hard the two of you worked... Thank you, truly."
Rest spoke from the heart. He knew very little about noble etiquette or high society; the only reason the gala was thriving was because Viola and Primula had taken charge of the management.
"It’s because the ingredients you brought us were so incredible, Rest. Between the Wyvern, the Diamond Bear, and those new spirits, it was impossible to fail."
"Exactly. This is all thanks to you, Lord Rest."
Viola and Primula each praised him in turn. To Rest, their words of appreciation were the greatest reward. All the effort he’d spent racing back and forth across the land to secure the best ingredients had been worth it just for this.
"Rest, could I have a moment?"
"Father-in-law?"
Marquis Rosemary, the sisters’ father, had approached the trio.
"I’d like to speak with you. Could you come with me?"
"I don't mind, but..."
Rest looked toward the twins, and they both nodded back at him.
"Go ahead. We'll see you in a bit."
"We can finish our talk later."
"Understood... I’m coming."
"This way."
Rest followed Marquis Rosemary to the far corner of the ballroom. There, a formidable group had gathered: Marchioness Eilische, Marquis Catreia, and Duke Crocus.
"Ah..."
And there was one more person standing among them. It was Count Walnut, whom Andrew had mentioned earlier.
"You are..."
"Hello there, Count Clover. My apologies for pulling you away while you’re so busy."
"No... not at all."
Rest knew exactly who Count Walnut really was. He did his best to keep his tone respectful but composed.
"I should be the one apologizing... if my hospitality has been lacking, I am deeply sorry."
"Now then, don't be so stiff. Today is an informal visit. Please, relax."
"............Yes."
Even being told to relax, Rest found it impossible. It was the same as a CEO telling a junior employee to forget about rank during an office party—the power dynamic was too ingrained to simply ignore.
"So... what did you wish to discuss?"
"Ah, yes. What I am about to tell you is strictly unofficial. However, you should understand that it is something that will be made reality very soon."
"............?"
"A few days ago, the Crown received a formal letter from the House of Margrave Lavender. It stated that the Margrave intends to retire shortly and wishes to abdicate his position."
"Retire...? The Margrave?"
Rest’s eyes instinctively drifted toward the center of the room. A short distance away, Margrave Lavender—one of his guests—was laughing like a kindly grandfather while chatting with a group of nobles.
"............"
His granddaughter, Ulula, was standing right beside him, staring intently at Rest.
"To be honest, I was shocked. That old nuisance—excuse me, Margrave Loser Lavender—has been a thorn in the Crown’s side for years. In the past, there were several incidents where diplomats and nobles who favored reconciliation with the Empire simply vanished. We’ve always suspected he was the one pulling the strings. He was the most difficult kind of man to manage—someone who swore absolute loyalty to the King while remaining a fanatical hardliner on anything involving the Empire."
"Is that so...?"
Rest had heard rumors of this before, but it didn't quite sit right with him. The Margrave Lavender he had met and spoken with was a gentle old man who clearly doted on his granddaughter. He didn't look anything like a shadowy conspirator hungry for war.
"Furthermore, the letter added this: 'Since my granddaughter and legitimate heir is still of tender years, I wish to entrust her guardianship to an individual designated by the Crown.' It is, for all intents and purposes, a total surrender. I can't imagine what happened to make that old fox change his tune..."
Count Walnut glanced toward the Margrave with a look of profound suspicion. To him, this sudden transformation brought more unease than relief.
(Entrusting the guardianship to someone picked by the King... essentially, it’s a promise that he won't oppose the Royal Family anymore. He’s abandoning his ambitions.)
The Margrave Lavender, a man who had craved war and moved in the shadows, was effectively neutering himself. If the guardian was someone chosen by the King, the Margrave’s power would be checked at every turn. Just as Count Walnut said, this was a concession of defeat. A declaration of unconditional surrender.
"However... the Margrave did attach one single condition to his retirement."
"A condition?"
"Yes... and as far as I am concerned, it is a condition that doesn't bother me in the slightest."
Count Walnut turned a meaningful, almost amused gaze toward Rest. Seeing that strangely warm look, Rest felt a sudden, intense chill of dread.
"T-That couldn't possibly mean..."
"The condition is that Ulula Lavender becomes your wife, and that your future child will be recognized as the official heir to the House of Margrave Lavender."
"............"
Struck speechless, Rest looked back toward the Margrave once more.
"............Peace."
When their eyes met, Ulula—standing right next to her grandfather—flashed him a small peace sign.