Grand Duke of Havenstorm's Mansion.

Imperial Capital Ava

 

Inside the conservatory, an old lady can be seen hunched over a cluster of withered yellow flowers. A smudge of dirt soiled the pristine gloves covering her delicate hands, the butler, Emil on the side, couldn't help but sigh dramatically. Another silk ruined beyond salvation. 

Her Grace loved her plants more than anything else. Ever since the departure of her family members one after another she has transferred all her love to these things as though they have become her only lifeline. 

"Your Grace, a visitor from the Marquess Blackwood household came," Emil informed after receiving a card from a hurrying footman.  

Occasionally, people come to visit to check on this powerful old lady. Some with pure intention and concern but most came with a purpose. 

Of course, the Grand Duchess is no fool. She had been through society, fought many waves and seen different kinds of faces, her position is the most eye-catching to those with ill-intentions. It's just that she herself doesn't bother with these trivialities much. Unless there was something that caught her interest.

But the old lady's interest is not easy to provoke.  

"Which of the bumbling fools from Blackwood came to my door?" A pair of clear silvery eyes below a coiffure of grey hair looked at Emil. Age has treated her kindly, the Grand Duchess Tatiana Havenstorm is an imposing beautiful woman. Her back ramrod straight, her stare powerful and keen. Like a hawk.  

"It was Sir Dylan, Your Grace and his cousin Miss Beatrice Feldt," Emil answered, handing her the card, but who knew he old lady would sniff her nose and glared at it as if saying: You are not to hand such a ghastly thing away from me.

As an old veteran, Emil needed not hear of his lady's words to understand what she meant. 

In the green drawing-room, a pair of beautiful male and female sat as the parlour maids set their teas and snacks on the table. The little missy wore a comfortable light blue dress with a ruched pattern and laces on the skirts, a crystal-embellished pair of shoes and a small delicate face of a privileged child. 

"If I did not insist on following, you wouldn't even remember to bring me along." The miss said sullenly while picking on a tart. 

The male, Sir Dylan Blackwood with his prominent patrician features of dark brown hair and green eyes gave his cousin an indifferent glance, "This is not a place to play your tantrum, Beatrice." 

"You promised my mother to bring me here in the capital, naturally you should live up to it."

"You should also understand that people in the main house are not as idle as you assume to bother about parties and shopping. Everyone from the head butler down to the scullery maids even knows what their responsibilities are about."

"But since the lord requested for me to be brought here, shouldn't I get the treatment I deserve, cousin?" Beatrice said bravely. In these past few days, the marquess was quite amused by her clever and interesting stories from the countryside causing her to forget a few important things... 

That although the marquess is amicable towards her, the same cannot be said to the heir. She thought she had truly become the lady thus underestimating Dylan's temper.  

The young knight did not spare her some tactful words and directly said, "If you have problems with my arrangements I can ask the butler to send you back to Blackwood first thing tomorrow." 

Her face rapidly paled. "N-No, I… I." 

"No?" Dylan scoffed. "Then you better reflect."

Beatrice bit her lip. She doesn't want to return to the country now that the Season is only three months away. Those bumpkins would certainly laugh at her once they saw her back. Especially Tina, she made a lot of preparations in order to win this favour. If Tina found out what she did, their aunts and uncles would scorn her even more.

Thinking of those people, Beatrice felt sad.

Another reason is that she wanted to enter the Circle through her uncle's connections. Although merely a third cousin, she is still a lady of the marquess household after all, her mother wanted her to recognize her roots. Sending her back is equal to cutting off her future. How could her cousin be so cruel like this?

Dylan on the other hand sneered inwardly. Just because their household lacked females in the main line his father pitied those who are in the branch and decided to help launch them into society for a better future. This Beatrice shouldn't appear here, it was the second cousin who is said to be the most well-behaved who was supposed to be sponsored by him. Alas, the girl caught an illness so Beatrice was reluctantly chosen. Seeing her acting so smug after being praised by his father already put her into Dylan's 'headache list'.

She wasn't so bad looking appearance wise, in fact she is an exquisite little thing. If not for her temper and squeamishness, he could have liked her more.  

"Is there any trouble here?" From the connecting door, the Grand Duchess came.

Dylan rose to his feet to give a greeting, "A pleasant day to you Your Grace. I deeply apologize for the sudden visit."

"Little Dylan has time to visit this old one, there is nothing to apologize for." The grand duchess said and was generous enough to manage a thin smile. Then her eyes went to the petite girl, "This is?"

"Greetings Your Grace," Beatrice received the cue and hastily gave a curtsy. "My name is—"

"This is Miss Beatrice Feldt, a cousin of mine from Blackwood." Dylan cut in giving her a warning.

Beatrice stomped her foot under the covers of her skirt. Why cannot she introduce herself? This is the famous Grand Duchess of Havenstorm, she must seize the opportunity! 

"Something wrong child?" the grand duchess inquired. 

Beatrice, who was caught in the act of bad behavior, was rooted in her position. Her usual glib tongue used to win over the elders seems to have lost its effect here. The suffocating aura of the senior matron hit her hard and she found it difficult to speak. The grey eyes looking at her made her feel as if she had been skinned and exposed naked. Beatrice was suddenly frightened. 

"I'm sorry." She bowed her head timidly. 

The Grand Duchess smiled faintly.  

"Your Grace, I came to discuss a very urgent matter." Dylan started ignoring the fool beside him. 

Lady Havenstorm maintained the smile on her face before turning her back. Dylan was panicked at first thinking he had unknowingly offended the old lady, but seconds later Emil beckoned for him to follow, much to his relief. 

This trip had to succeed. 

"Oh Emil, ask one of the youngest maids to tour Miss Feldt in the gallery and in the rear courtyard right after. There is a beautiful prospect there at this time of the year. I'm sure she will love the roses and sculptures around the pond."

Emil immediately followed the order and returned briefly.

Dylan was guided to the vast tropical escape… that is the old lady’s conservatory filled with various species of rare plants. In the middle of it is an artful stone garden gushing out water from a small stream. There were comfortable wicker seats lined with plush pillows and finally a table with tea. 

He had known the grand duchess spends most of her time here, and personally, he liked the place as well. The air is sweet and refreshing, plus the view is pleasing to the eyes more than those exaggerated towers and monuments outside.

Before he could take a seat, he heard his cue. 

"What caused your sudden visit to this old bone, dear boy?" with a flick of her feather fan, Lady Havenstorm began to gently fan herself. 

"A trusted friend of mine sent a missive containing a very alarming message," with that said, he handed over a black envelope to her. "The content has the potential to help the empire back on its feet. On the other hand, if ignored it can cause our demise." 

Tatiana Havenstorm opened and read the message inside the two pieces of thin paper. The writing was neat, concise and straightforward indicating that the sender is a man of intellect.

There was only the murmur of the stream during the silence in between them. Dylan had been in a state of anxiety when he rushed up here not knowing whether or not he could convince her ladyship or get thrown out like a dirty rag. 

"Why choose me, hm?" the old lady asked after a while.

Caught off guard, Dylan was momentarily stunned.

"There is the emperor above, the other officials. Why come to my house?"

"Because I know that aside from Your Grace, there is no one out there who has greater convincing power than you."

Lady Havenstorm's eyes narrowed sharply, the fan snapped shut and then to his horror, she began to chuckle. 

"Are you so bored these days Dylan?"

"A few boxing games in Theta Hall and helping father run the estate. I have been travelling in between the fief and the capital these past few days."

"Goodness, heirs are always busy so how come you have time to indulge with something like this?" 

Dylan wasn't fazed by her indifferent tone. He leaned back on the seat to relax his posture.   

"This old friend of yours, how sure are you that he is speaking the truth and he is not some spy from the enemy country sent to create turmoil within our ranks?"

"Yes, Your Grace."

Dylan was aware that the letter was very alarming. If known to the public, it will put the empire to an unprecedented state of chaos. Internal conflict can fell a highly organized system worse than an invasion from the enemies.  

But there is one thing he is sure of, that letter was not sent as a malicious prank and the man who defied protocols risking to reveal such information is one with an honourable and chivalrous reputation. Dylan can bet his title on it. 

"My, my, I never thought you had in you." Lady Havensorm said with an exaggerated sigh. 

"Friendship is a good thing, but trustworthy confidantes are the most rare." He replied with a smile.

"Congratulations, you are no longer a child. I can see that you value your friend's words a lot. But that is not enough to convince me yet, dear boy."  

"If You Grace has her doubts, you can send someone to investigate the incident." He did the same, and the people he hired from the mercenary guild sent him the same information. 

If Lady Havenstorm doubted, she can send her trusted people to verify the validity of this news first. 

Emil stood quietly on the side guessing his lady's thoughts. This fellow from Blackwood can be said to be one of the naughty children within the Circle. He often comes to gamble in horse racing, joins in hunting, drinking and whoring. Though the last two are still to be proven since a glimpse of his shadow is yet to be seen in dirty places like brothels and taverns. 

One thing Emil is sure of, however, children like Sir Dylan who can enter the Havenstorm mansion several times are people recognized by his lady. And there can never be degenerates and wastes among those lot. Only talents. 

 

After fulfilling his purpose, Dylan and Beatrice rode back to the Blackwood mansion in silence. The journey could have been easy if they took the usual route from east to west, but for some reason, Sir Dylan The Devil instructed the coachman to detour in the middle-class area.  

The luxurious carriage proved to be no match to the road's bumps and from time to time it would give its passengers a frightening jolt. 

Beatrice simply wants to return home fast, the need to stay away from this devil is eating at her. Unfortunately, this enclosed space and the horrid road condition did not cooperate with her wish. 

This long awkward silence gave Dylan plenty of time to gloat. And one of his bad habits comes out whenever he is in a dark cheery mood. His cousin who had been so cheeky towards him a while ago is now tightly clutching her handkerchief as a lifeline. She looked as pale as flour but she did not let out a complaint.

He had heard she was quite a mischievous character back in the country, and that few people found her endearing. She is rich, beautiful, but unfortunately wild. 

"Why are you not kicking me?"

Beatrice raised her eyes and scowled. "Pardon?"

"You're clearly mad. But how come you dare not speak?"

Because she's too mad. But her position does not allow her to vent all these emotions rolling inside of her. 

"Scared of me, lass?"

To her horror, Dylan got up from his seat and occupied the one next to her. Beatrice jumped like a startled rabbit and immediately ran to the opposite seat but the sudden rattling of the carriage caused her to bump her head on the roof and throw her petite self to his lap.

"Aye, damn to hell, you scoundrel!" She flailed like a fish. 

Dylan was hit in the jaw with her arm. 

"Let go, let go." Beatrice roared. 

"I'm not holding you." He said looking down at her with a bad smile. 

She turned stiff like a dead tree. 

"Comfortable?" 

The stiff tree blushed from head to foot. 

Upon arrival at Blackwood, the carriage was pushed open violently then jump a very flustered girl before the doorman could even welcome them home.

Dylan followed with a relaxed gait and a refreshing grin.

"Welcome back, Sir Dylan." A sweet voice greeted from above the entrance. 

A young woman wearing a maid's uniform stood there with a tender look on her face. Dylan walked up, retracted his gaze and continued inside the house. 

Soft and gentle? Men like such fragile looking dolls with their eager and dependent eyes. But the scheming boiling deep within cannot be hidden from him. 

Between her carefulness and Beatrice's loud tantrums Dylan finds the latter a lot cuter.