This Villain Is Mine Now

Chapter 93

The next day, an extensive search of the Archducal Castle began. The primary focus was the late Archduke’s office.

There, Lyle and Elaina discovered the journal used by the late Archduke.

Most of it consisted of brief notes regarding the matters handled each day, but within the private records about his dreams, his anguish was vividly documented.

「When night falls, I fear falling asleep.

His Majesty the Emperor’s severed head is displayed, fluttering like a flag. His unclosed eyes reproach me. Why did you not protect the Empire? Why did you not give your utmost loyalty?

When I wake, this place is yet another hell. I cannot determine whether I should trust myself or not.

It feels as though I am still wandering through the dream.

The day approaches. No matter how many times I confirm it, they say there are no signs of rebellion in the capital. But can I truly believe that?

Will I remain a criminal in history? Or…」

As the entries progressed, the content became increasingly unstable, and the handwriting grew erratic.

As Shawd had mentioned, the dates when he began writing about these dreams started after that year’s summer vacation.

However, that alone was not enough to prove that Marquis Redwood was involved in these events.

Every room of the vast Archducal Castle was thoroughly searched, yet the only meaningful document found was the journal. The findings were far fewer than they had anticipated.

Since they could not remain in Pendita indefinitely, Elaina eventually had no choice but to take only the journal and leave the North.

Lyle had quickly contacted Drane using the falcon, but the response that came back was that even Kyst could not discern the full picture from this information alone.

「Having recurring dreams aligns with the known methods of Propheta. However, if this was truly the Propheta that Kyst knows, he would not engage in such vile acts to lead humans to ruin.」

No matter how great an Archduke may be in the eyes of humans, from the perspective of a dragon—who lives an almost eternal existence—humans are nothing more than fleeting creatures, as insignificant as mayflies.

If this was not some cruel prank, then there was no reason for a Propheta, who could see the future, to deliberately implant false dreams.

However, Kyst’s words were merely speculation, without any solid evidence.

As they returned to the capital, Elaina read and reread the journal.

The first mention of the dreams appeared about a week after the summer vacation had ended.

‘What could it be? There must be a trigger.’

No matter how much she thought about it, if Marquis Redwood was involved, it had to be connected to the summer vacation.

Fleang Redwood had left Mabel not long after a decision had been made on how to handle the situation there, returning to the capital soon after. Based on the dates, he had only stayed for a day or two at most.

After returning to the capital, there had been no contact between the late Archduke and the Marquis until the incident occurred.

The more she pondered, the deeper she felt she was sinking into a quagmire. Frustration welled up within her.

***

The Mabel monster escort project had been an overwhelming success.

Merchants had flocked to Mabel, accelerating its development even further.

Since the imperial family imposed no taxes on these profits, it was an extraordinary boon for House Grant.

With resources and supplies pouring in, House Grant had become a lion with wings.

The Archduchy was now bustling with visitors daily. Among them were many talented individuals who, after witnessing how a commoner like Drane had risen to become the Archduke’s closest aide, had come in hopes of joining his vassalage.

They proposed various policies to further develop the North, vying for Lyle’s favor.

As a result, large-scale construction projects were launched in the underdeveloped northern territories. Now, House Grant was undoubtedly the wealthiest and most promising noble house in the Empire.

However, in contrast, no progress had been made in uncovering the truth about the late Archduke’s death.

“You’re reading it again. You’ve gone through it so many times you could probably recite it by now.”

“I read it every day, but I still don’t understand.”

Even after weeks had passed since their return to the capital, the journal alone yielded no clues.

At best, all they could claim was that the late Archduke had not intended to commit treason, but had suffered from some kind of delirium.

“Give it up. Just reading Grandfather’s records won’t uncover any connection to Marquis Redwood.”

“Give up?”

Elaina’s face flared with anger as she looked at Lyle.

“How can you say that? I know what you and your family have been through, and you want to give up?”

That word did not suit Lyle. Seeing Elaina’s flushed face, trembling with fury, the stiffness in his expression softened slightly.

Wrapping a scarf around her neck, he spoke, “I mean give up on finding traces of it in the journal. No matter how much you read it, it won’t reward your effort.”

“Then what do you suggest? This is all we have.”

“We ask. Directly.”

“…Directly?”

“We’re going to be late for the opera if we keep this up. It’s time to leave.”

Lyle extended his hand to her.

***

The reopening of the Imperial Theater marked the long-awaited return of opera. As the most significant event since the start of the social season, the most distinguished nobles of the Empire had gathered.

“It’s been a while, Marquis Redwood.”

As they made their way to their seats, Elaina and Lyle came face to face with the Marquis and Marchioness Redwood.

At Lyle’s greeting, the Marquis’s expression briefly twisted in displeasure, but realizing they were being watched, he quickly put on a pleasant smile.

“It is an honor to see Your Grace the Archduke. You’ve been assigned quite a fine seat.”

“Ah, yes. Thanks to His Majesty’s generosity, I was given a seat right beside the Duke of Winchester.”

The topmost tier of the Imperial Theater was not accessible to just anyone.

The Emperor, an avid patron of the arts, reserved these seats exclusively for the highest-ranking noble houses. Being seated there was an implicit sign of the Emperor’s trust.

At Lyle’s words, Marquis Redwood gritted his teeth.

The Emperor assigned these seats in strict order, with the best seats given first.

This time, he had been assigned the third seat. Until now, he had always been seated immediately after the Duke of Winchester, or even in the first seat on some occasions.

Already unsettled by the realization that he had been placed third, he had been wandering the corridors, trying to determine who had taken the second seat.

And now, he had his answer—Lyle Grant.

It was a clear message from the Emperor: in his eyes, Marquis Redwood ranked lower than that whelp.

“I recently visited Pendita, and an old acquaintance of yours asked me to pass along a greeting.”

Lyle smiled as he addressed the Marquis.

“Lord Dewiran, to be precise. He did something rather drastic to the Archducal Castle—sealing the gates with molten iron, wasn’t it?”

At that moment, a crack appeared in the Marquis’s expression. Lyle didn’t miss it.

“It had been a while, but walking through the castle brought back old memories.”

“…I see. That must have been quite nostalgic.”

The Marquis, who had been biting the inside of his cheek, lifted his gaze toward Lyle.

“After all, the Archducal Castle has remained untouched for ten years. I imagine it must have preserved the past quite well.”

“Indeed. Just as you said.”

“So, did you find anything?”

There was a glint of hostility in the Marquis’s eyes as he spoke.

Lyle casually shrugged. “Well, let’s just say there were quite a few interesting things.”

“…Your Grace is quite perceptive.”

His jaw twitched as he clenched his teeth. As he turned away, Lyle stopped him.

“Oh, right. There’s something I wanted to ask you.”

Lyle gazed down at him with cool, piercing eyes.

“You remember, don’t you? I mentioned it once before.”

“What are you referring to?”

“The Grant family’s villa in Deftia.”

Elaina instinctively tightened her grip on Lyle’s hand.

The moment the word Deftia was mentioned, a chilling change swept over the Marquis’s rigid expression.

In that instant, she realized the truth.

As expected, the outward image that Marquis Redwood had maintained all this time was nothing but a carefully crafted facade.

Until now, she had thought of him merely as a greedy man who tormented Diane. Watching him fall for the chaos she had orchestrated—unknowingly allowing Diane to marry Nathan—had made him seem like nothing more than a simple villain.

But he was not that kind of man. If he were, he would not be capable of making such an expression.

Lyle firmly grasped his wife’s hand, his grip steadying her. Unlike the tense Elaina, he maintained a composed expression as he addressed the Marquis.

“When we discussed Lady Redwood’s engagement, you told me, didn’t you? That even for a fortune, you would never give up the Deftia villa to anyone. What about now? Do you still feel the same? Because right now, I can offer you whatever price you desire.”