232 Side Story Chapter As soon as the Remdragon Knights learned of the duke’s scheme, each man clamored to accompany his commander to the duchy. Riftan quelled the outcry and eventually departed for Croyso Castle with Ursuline, Elliot, Ruth, and three squires. Apprehension and anger raged inside him as they galloped across the frozen earth. He ruthlessly spurred his horse until finally stopping to rest at a brook. Elliot paused while unsaddling his mount to inquire cautiously, “How do you suppose the duke knew about your stepfather?” Riftan took a swig from his flask. “Ordered an inquiry into my background, no doubt.” The duke was setting up a vast intelligence network in the east and beyond, across the whole of the Western Continent. He could have entreated any of the big merchants that did business with the duchy to look into Riftan’s past. With his former life as a Blackhorn Dragon being common knowledge, his old mercenary group was likely the source. He only needed to inquire about the mixed-blood child who fled the duchy to trace my family. Riftan gritted his teeth at his oversight and the duke’s cruelty. “It could simply be a con man’s ploy for the gold,” said Elliot. Ursuline, who had been listening while chewing on a piece of jerky, said bluntly, “If that were so, they would not have dragged that yappy boy all the way here and then left.” Having no counterargument, Elliot kept his mouth shut. The knights wolfed down their rations in heavy silence before setting out again. Urging on their steeds with minimal rest, they managed to reach the duchy in five days. The first thing Riftan did was check on his stepfather’s shack. As he walked through the gaping entrance, where the door had been ripped off its hinges, he found the house in disarray. Smashed furniture lay strewn about the room, and the brazier was toppled over. A dirty blanket lay twisted in the corner. After inspecting the drafty shack, Riftan issued a command to one of the squires. “Head to the village and find out what happened to the residents of this house. My stepfather’s wife will likely have a little girl with her.” “Yes, sir.” After watching the squires leave, Riftan led his remaining men up the hill. The castle sentries opened the gates as they approached. Riftan was on edge as he rode in, scanning the courtyard. Several ranks of knights in steel armor stood to attention around the castle walls, and there were more guards than usual lining the wide path leading to the great hall. It was a show of force designed to intimidate. As they reached the main castle, the steward stepped out to address them. “May I ask what brings you to Croyso Castle?” Dismounting, Riftan replied coldly, “I have come to see the duke.” “It is quite improper to arrive without notice.” Angered by the steward’s tart reply, Ursuline stepped forward. Riftan extended an arm to stop him and turned to the steward. “Inform the duke I seek an audience with him.” The steward responded with a haughty look. “Please wait here.” The man slowly turned and stalked into the great hall, leaving them standing in the entryway. Ursuline’s face twisted in anger at the flagrant discourtesy. “How dare you treat His Majesty’s vassal this way?!” One of the duke’s knights guarding the door snorted at Ursuline’s outburst. “Were you expecting a warm welcome after arriving out of the blue? Do you think this is an inn, to come and go as you please?” “We are His Majesty’s—” “Enough, Ursuline.” Ursuline pursed his lips at Riftan’s icy tone. Though he was no less furious than his comrade, he thought it best to avoid belligerence when he might soon have to negotiate for his stepfather’s life. Thus, he silently waited for the steward to return. Half a day passed before the Duke of Croyso finally agreed to meet them. “Please follow me.” Not bothering with even a perfunctory apology, the steward immediately led them to the reception room. Riftan struggled to rein in his impatience. “Everyone else is to wait here,” the steward said as they came to a stop before the reception room door. Riftan silently expressed his assent to his men and followed the steward’s lead. Bright candlelight illuminated the opulent space. The duke sat behind a desk of polished mahogany in the middle of the room, garbed in silk garments. Armed knights flanked him like statues, and three servants stood against a wall holding trays of food and wine. The duke seemed absorbed in thumbing through a stack of parchments. He only looked up as Riftan approached. “Tell me,” the duke said, sweeping his pale green eyes over Riftan’s sweaty, dirt-caked face with contempt, “what brings the commander of the Remdragon Knights to my abode?” Riftan clenched his fists at the duke’s feigned ignorance. “I think you know very well.” “Alas, I am not a seer,” the duke said blandly. “The reason for your unannounced visit remains a mystery.” He signaled to a servant to fill his empty goblet. One of the young men hurried forward to pour him more wine before ducking away. Glaring, Riftan said through gritted teeth, “I was made aware that you have imprisoned a peasant wrongfully accused of stealing.” Taking a sip of wine, the duke raised his thick brows. Struggling to maintain calm, Riftan added, “The gold coins found at his house were given to him by me. I ask that you free the man at once.” “I’m afraid I do not know whom you speak of,” the duke replied, keeping up the pretense. “There are hundreds of men locked away in my dungeons, all imprisoned following a fair trial. I do not see what grounds you have for dictating what I do with my prisoners.” “I refer to the peasant by the name of Novan.” Riftan paused to summon the dregs of his patience before continuing. “I request a retrial so that I may testify on his behalf. Hanging a man for a crime without evidence is—” “The commander of the Remdragon Knights must have a lot of time on his hands,” the duke said, his thin lips curling into a sneer. “To think he would personally intervene to save the life of a mere peasant.” All manner of obscenities rose in Riftan’s throat, which he promptly gulped back down. Like a cat playing with a cornered mouse, the duke sat back, languidly swirling his wine. “That, I cannot allow. Unlike you, I am a busy man. I do not wish to overturn a verdict already made. If I were to allow it once, I would be bound to spend entire days presiding over retrials. I cannot have people thinking lightly of my judgments. Why should I bring such trouble on myself?” “So, you intend to take an innocent man’s life to spare the inconvenience?” “I rule on a man’s innocence!” the duke said heatedly. “The serfs of this duchy must comply with their liege’s decisions. Even the king cannot impose on my authority here! So I ask you, what gives you the right to interfere?” “That man—” Though Riftan cut himself off, the unfamiliar word soon slipped out. “That man… is my father. If you should not grant a retrial, I will pay for his bail and whatever fines necessary.” “My, what a shame,” the duke drawled, not a hint of surprise in his voice. “A shame indeed. However, all prisoners must be treated equally. I cannot show leniency just because he is your father. The punishment for theft is the gallows.” Unable to contain his anger any longer, Riftan slammed a fist on the duke’s desk, denting the polished surface. The knights on either side drew their swords in unison. Riftan did not spare them a glance. “Name your price,” he snarled. ... The smile vanished from the duke’s face. He leaned back against the velvet-upholstered chair and replied coldly, “I believe you know my price.” “So… you will kill my father if I don’t fight in the Dragon Campaign in your stead?” “What a ghastly thing to say,” the duke said, glaring. “By turning down my generous offer, you insulted me and my house. And now you storm into my castle to demand that I release my prisoner? How much more of your impertinence shall I tolerate?” “Enough drivel! You imprisoned an innocent man to blackmail me!” “Guard your tongue!” The Croyso knights had clearly heard enough. They swung their swords in and hovered the blades threateningly close to Riftan’s neck. Paying no mind to the sharp weapons aimed at his arteries, Riftan glared at the duke, whose contorted face reflected his own. A moment later, apparently deeming it undignified to show his true emotions to one as lowly as Riftan, the duke’s face regained its cool indifference. “Say whatever you wish. It will not change my decision. Your father will be hanged tomorrow.” Riftan slammed the desk with his fist again, but the duke did not so much as flinch. The man’s conviction that no one would dare lay a finger on him was absolute. “If you wish to save your father from his fate, might I suggest making an offer enticing enough to change my mind?” “If… I offer to take your place in the Dragon Campaign, will you free my father?” ... “If you would do that,” said the duke, pausing to take a sip, “I would surely release a peasant for you in exchange. It is the least a father could do for his son-in-law, would you not agree?” Riftan squeezed his eyes shut. The devil in his heart kept whispering that he had no other option. Disgusted with himself, he clenched his fist so tightly that his palm began to bleed. One thing was for certain — he needed to buy himself more time. “I cannot make this decision right away. The king commanded that I defend the border, so I will need to implore His Majesty first.” “You may do as you please,” the duke said half-heartedly. “I must inform you, though, that your father’s execution will be proceeding as planned. I see no reason to delay it for your sake.” Riftan leveled a murderous look at the duke, who met his gaze with utmost calmness. “I suggest you decide now. There will be no second chances. By tomorrow, your peasant father will be hanged on the gallows, and I shall bestow the honor of marrying my daughter on another landed noble. Know that you are not my only option.” Rage, humiliation, and other tumultuous emotions he could not articulate roiled in his chest. The memory of his stepfather crying in the dark came to him, followed by Maximilian’s terrified face. “Very well,” he said, his jaw clenching. The duke narrowed his eyes. “You would agree to the terms?” For the first time in his life, Riftan felt a violent urge to stab another human being. “I do.” Shooting a scornful look at the duke, Riftan continued, emphasizing each word, “I shall risk my life in your place. Will that do?” Raising his chin, the duke’s lips twisted in an arrogant smile. “You have made the right decision. Since we will soon be family, I shall pardon your past transgressions.” The duke turned his attention to the steward waiting by the door. “Show our guests to their rooms.” Then, turning back to Riftan, he added, “You must be tired from the journey. Take the rest of the day to recover.” “I ask that you free the man first.” “I shall pardon him after the wedding,” the duke said adamantly. “There will be no concessions regarding this matter.” With another glare at the duke, Riftan swore under his breath and whirled away.