[AFYC] Chapter 45

“Yes, Your Majesty. I understand your instructions perfectly.” 

Oscar slipped his hand into his jacket and retrieved an envelope. He approached the steps leading to the throne and carefully placed it there before stepping back. 

The envelope, placed by a man whose every action seemed like bait, was undoubtedly so. The king knew this, yet he couldn’t help but let his gaze drift toward it. 

“I assure you that Your Majesty will have no further cause for concern. I sincerely apologise for any distress I may have inadvertently caused.” 

“And what is this?” 

“A token of my apology.” 

“I will not open it. Take it back.” 

“Then burn it.” 

The king shot a sharp look at Oscar, unsettled by his unnervingly calm tone. 

“Think of it as a message delivered by a crow. Whether you burn it or read it, the crow remains unaware.” 

“…” 

“Whether you choose to use the information within or dismiss it, it is entirely your decision.” 

Cold, emotionless eyes, a voice devoid of any sentiment.  

The arrogance emanating from the man, who would undoubtedly respond with a polite “I understand” even if the king ordered the envelope to be burned right there, made the king’s fists clench involuntarily. 

The young Marquis, now in his early thirties, seemed to have no weaknesses. After all, weaknesses stem from having something precious to protect, but this man had none. His steel company, his most powerful asset, could hardly be considered a vulnerability. 

The phrase “whether you use it or not” gnawed at the king. Oscar’s indifference to whatever choice the king made angered him. Yet, the fact that he didn’t immediately order the envelope burned only confirmed that he was, in the end, playing right into Oscar’s hands. 

Inside the envelope, placed at the king’s feet, lay detailed accounts of the numerous corrupt activities Duke Baden had committed during his tenure as bank president. For the King of Felphe, who had long wanted to get rid of the troublesome Duke, it was an offer he could hardly refuse. 

Secrets are only safe when they are known by none. Since the moment Duke Baden betrayed him, Oscar had no intention of letting the Duke live. 

As Oscar exited the audience chamber, Simon, who had been waiting outside, immediately fell in step behind him. No sooner had they emerged than Oscar lit a cigarette, and Simon began outlining the day’s schedule. 

“You have a meeting with Count Holton in thirty minutes, followed by an appointment with the chairman of Titan two and a half hours later.” 

“What about the captives?” 

With a puff of smoke, Oscar inquired, prompting Simon to step closer and answer. 

“They haven’t spoken yet.” 

“…” 

“Do you wish to visit them later?” 

Oscar nodded a couple of times as they passed through the palace’s glass corridor and began descending the long staircase. The nobles gathered in small groups throughout the palace and stopped conversing to watch Oscar. As an attractive figure walked by, their gazes followed like metal to a magnet, yet none dared to approach him. 

Oscar paid them no mind as he made his way to the carriage.  

To him, the world was divided into two: purpose and purpose.  

Even if they didn’t serve a purpose, people, objects, and insects were identical to Oscar. 

Once inside the carriage, Oscar leaned against the backrest and took a long drag from his cigarette. 

“What was the king’s reaction?” 

“What do you think?” 

Seeing the cruel smile play on Oscar’s lips, Simon knew not to press further. It wouldn’t be long before they heard of Duke Baden’s downfall or even his death. 

As the carriage began to move, Oscar continued smoking in silence until, in a languid tone, he asked, 

“Has she gone to the bank?” 

Simon, who had ordered the Wolves to report on Seo Ah’s whereabouts every hour, quickly responded, making a mental note to continue doing so in the future. 

“No, she hasn’t. After purchasing necessary items through merchants, she mentioned visiting the bank afterwards. She’s likely shopping for goods as we speak.” 

Oscar stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray. 

It would have been problematic for her to go as she was, wearing clothes that seemed to have been in fashion half a century ago. And what about that winter coat in the middle of summer? Where did she even find such an outfit? 

The memory of the suspicious woman’s face briefly flashed in his mind. Her face had flushed crimson, as had her hands and ears, and then there was that out-of-place question about the time. As these thoughts came to him, a faint smile, perhaps a smirk, crossed his lips. 

How much could she possibly hide behind that face?