The Grand Duke's Son Is A Heretic-Chapter 276

The mood across the Duchy had shifted drastically over the past few weeks.

At first, no one could understand why the number of criminal incidents was dropping. The streets had grown calmer, merchant caravans were traveling with confidence, and even the notorious gangs that loitered near the borders were nowhere to be seen. Whispers began spreading across the markets, tea shops, and taverns.

"Have you heard? The Blue Knight Legion has been mobilized."

"I saw them patrolling the western alley again yesterday."

"And leading them was the young lord—Kael himself!"

"By the heavens! That white-haired boy? I thought he was all looks and no strength."

"What nonsense! Did you not hear how he stood toe-to-toe with Sir Vic during the training session?"

"Yes! I heard it caused shockwaves across the courtyard. The knights were in awe."

"It seems the rumors about him being trash were just nonsense. He’s a genius!"

A street vendor chimed in while flipping skewers on a grill. "Mark my words, he’s gonna be the next Duke. The way he’s been working—he’s earned it."

"I feel safer walking home at night now."

"Yes, me too. The people feel like he cares. That’s rare among nobles these days."

"With someone like him watching over the Duchy... we might have a golden era again."

The wave of praise only grew stronger with each passing day. While the people rejoiced and admired their rising star, inside the Grand Duke’s manor, the atmosphere was far from festive.

In a private room, a suffocating silence gripped the space. Three people sat—Kael, Ramos, and Ruth—each with their own complicated expressions. Tension hung like a blade in the air.

Rami, standing by the wall with a trembling hand, wiped sweat from his brow with a handkerchief and silently prayed.

’Please let them not blow something up today. Please let there be no blood.’

Ramos was the first to break the silence. He leaned forward, wearing a mischievous grin, eyes glinting.

"So, you’re going to the annual engagement party during the Crown Games, right?"

Kael, arms folded, gave a nonchalant smile. "Hmm. I think that’s a great place to start."

"That’s good... That’s really... What a way to begin chaos," Ramos laughed, nearly clapping his hands.

Ruth, sitting stiffly at the end of the table, gave Ramos a look sharp enough to slice bone.

"You just want to watch the show."

Ruth’s mood had clearly deteriorated. He didn’t mind if Kael stirred trouble behind closed doors. But a public scandal, during the Crown Games of all times? That would turn the entire nobility’s eye toward their Duchy—and not in a good way.

Kael, catching onto his thoughts, snorted. "You can’t blame me, old man. You should’ve stepped in earlier. This is all your fault."

"You dare!" Ruth’s voice cracked like a whip as he slammed a fist on the table.

He glared at Kael, voice rising. "Do whatever you want. But if you tarnish the Duchy’s name—this time, I won’t spare you. You were naive and weak before, but now..."

Kael raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, yeah. I get it. So, tell me—why did you both call me here? What are you scheming this time?"

At that, Kael noticed something rare. Ruth flinched. It was so brief, almost imperceptible—but Kael saw it. His eyes narrowed. Guilt? That was a first. He had never seen this man, who walked like the world owed him nothing and feared no one, show an emotion so human.

"You’ll be leaving for the capital earlier than us," Ruth said, voice calm again.

Kael nodded slowly. "Makes sense."

But then Ruth added something unexpected.

"Before you leave... go meet your mother."

The words froze Kael in place.

He blinked, then instinctively asked, "Huh?"

I have a mother? he nearly said—but clamped his mouth shut just in time. He could already feel the phantom pain of Ruth’s fist flying toward his skull.

Ramos rubbed his forehead with a sigh. "We should really get him checked. After awakening, his memory’s gone to dust."

"Completely careless. Not surprising anymore," Ruth muttered.

Kael scowled. "Cut the crap, both of you. You never told me a damn thing about her. Most of my childhood was spent hiding in abandoned mansions or sneaking out windows. You all made me an afterthought, and now I’m supposed to remember someone I never met properly?"

His voice had lost its sarcasm for a moment. Just irritation, maybe a bit of pain.

There was a pause before Ruth finally answered.

"She’s in the Duchy of Salvatore. She’s... unwell. Being treated there."

"You just need to see her," Ramos added, softer than before. "Don’t cause a scene."

Kael leaned back in his chair, trying to keep his face unreadable. But something twisted inside him.

The woman who looked at him like filth.

The woman who flinched whenever he entered the room.

The woman whose hatred had carved a wall inside his heart.

I have to see her now?

"...Fine," he said finally. "I’ll go. No promises about being nice though."

Ruth closed his eyes briefly. "That’s enough."

Kael observed Ruth with narrowed eyes. The moment Ruth spoke about his mother, his expression had flickered—just for a heartbeat, but Kael caught it. A rare, almost human hesitation. He was tempted to ask right there and then, What are you hiding? But he held it in. This wasn’t the time.

I’ll ask Ramos or Rami later, he thought, letting the suspicion simmer quietly.

He shifted gears and turned toward another pressing matter.

"By the way..." Kael leaned back slightly and crossed his arms. "What’s the deal with the Ice Elves?"

He had handed off the entire affair to Ruth, merely acting as a figurehead or liaison in earlier discussions. The core diplomacy had been left for Ruth to handle—Kael wasn’t a fan of drawn-out politics.

Ruth looked at him with an unreadable gaze and surprisingly said, "You did well this time."

"Huh?"

Both Ramos and Kael blinked, dumbfounded.

Ramos turned to Kael slowly. "Wait a second... Did this stoic, cold fossil just praise someone?"

Kael’s eyes widened. "That’s what I heard too. Maybe I’m hallucinating."

"I need to check something..." Ramos mumbled and reached over, pinching Kael’s cheek hard.