Chapter 139

“I requested to meet with you because I have a question I wish to ask, Viscountess.”

Eugène released the hand he had been holding and took a seat directly across from her. Viscountess Gagnon had a maid set tea before him, tilting her head in mild curiosity.

“You say you have a question for me?”

“Yes.”

“What sort of question?”

“Viscountess, or rather, Count d’Estuaire, no, now I suppose I must say His Grace, Duke La Mer…. In any case, I am aware that he and my family are kin by blood and marriage. What I wish to ask is this. What occurred between our families that led to such estrangement that we no longer maintain contact? Duke La Mer has recently shown considerable interest in me and has sought to cultivate an acquaintance, yet that makes me hesitant to respond readily. My late father never explained the reason, so I grew up entirely unaware of the circumstances.”

Eugène, shrewdly, used Duke La Mer as bait to pose his question to the Viscountess Gagnon. As expected, she appeared quite troubled by it.

She knew well that her precious nephew was unusually attentive to a member of his extended family before her. Even without understanding politics, she sensed it would be far more beneficial for him to be acquainted with someone like Eugène than with the many rascals that surrounded him.

However, his family bore a significant ill history with hers. If one were to consider only bloodlines, not the person, then the Viscountess did not wish this man near her nephew. The man’s father had done something to her brother, and she did not want that son placed nearby as if nothing had happened.

“Even if you ask me that… I do not know the details very well. At the time, I was still quite young, and Margrave Amieux was merely a cousin-in-law with whom we had no close ties. He was a gentleman as if drawn from a painting, but he did not mingle much with the other nobles in the region. It was only after he married Sister Constance that he first set foot in my mother’s salon.”

“Was there no contact between our families before that?”

“Hardly any. Not just with our family, but with most other nobles of the East, it was much the same. Even though the territories were adjacent, the marches felt like isolated islands. Naturally, it was not easy. It is one thing to know that the other person possesses a weapon you do not, and quite another to socialize freely with them.”

This was a story he had never known. Eugène recalled the tragic fate that Margrave Renault had endured in his march, and sensed there must be another layer of complexity to this matter. He raised his teacup to his lips, hiding his expression with practiced ease.

“I had always thought my father’s social isolation was solely because of that so-called ‘Responsibility Doctrine.’ But it seems that even before that, there was not much interaction between the families.”

“Oh, that? …Yes. Now that you mention it, there were such instances. If you are unaware of the full circumstances, it is understandable that you would think that way.”

She frowned slightly, forming gentle lines on her ivory-like forehead, answering in a way that showed she too viewed that doctrine unfavorably, much like Eugène.

Since he had heard things from his father since childhood, he had developed a kind of prejudice of his own against it. Although he did not actively assert like his father, he suspected that among the other Eastern nobles, there might quietly be some who shared his father’s view.

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“Nobles have duties to match the privileges granted to them. To deserve the title of lord over a territory, one must possess the qualifications for it. I would not expect him to want to share the fate of his people, as Margrave Renault did. But even a shred of conscience should have compelled him to evacuate the people alongside him when he fled. To abandon them while saving only himself was a grave dereliction of duty that no noble should commit. However, my father never once expressed remorse. Of all things, that lack of accountability struck me most deeply.”

Viscountess Gagnon listened with a subtle expression. A positive interpretation might be discomfort at hearing such harsh words about a deceased person. A negative interpretation might be that Eugène’s criticism touched not only his late father but her own family as well.

“Moreover, my father compounded the wrongdoing by shifting responsibility onto an innocent woman, blaming her for his failures. That is not conduct befitting a gentleman, much less a noble. Even though he was my father, in this respect, there can be no excuse.”

“…I do not think it is fair to see it only in that light. While I am unaware of the full circumstances, your father must have had his reasons.”

Viscountess Gagnon, who had remained silent until now, offered her rebuttal carefully. The topic clearly made her uneasy, and a faint trace of discomfort showed in her eyes. It was subtle enough that a casual observer might miss it, but Eugène, who had been watching her closely from the start, immediately recognized the clear sense of reluctance she felt.

However, Eugène deliberately adopted an even firmer tone, testing her patience.

“Do you truly believe any circumstance could ever justify shirking the responsibilities one ought to bear? Since you severed ties long ago, you may not know the circumstances. In his later years, my father’s spirit was greatly broken. Even upon his sickbed, he would drone endlessly on the Responsibility Doctrine, shifting blame for his own failings onto Her Majesty, the Empress Mother.

She, who, before becoming the Empress Mother, was the only one in all of East who fulfilled her duty, and for that became a paragon to all the imperial nobility, despite being merely the only daughter of Margrave Renault. Quite frankly, the Eastern nobility as a whole owes her a great debt.

Had it not been for her, none of us would have been able to lift our heads. History would have remembered us as shameless and dishonorable failures, none of whom fulfilled their duties, with not a single excuse to offer.”

These were not words spoken merely to provoke Viscountess Gagnon; Eugène truly believed them, which lent an honesty to his tone.

“That woman-”

As Eugène repeatedly praised the late Empress Mother, the Viscountess, unable to remain silent any longer, suddenly raised her voice. Whether it was impulsive or not, regret flickered across her face the moment she spoke, yet she continued.

“Empress Mother Héloïse was not the person you seem to think she was.”

Her red lips trembled slightly as she sipped her tea. She still seemed unsettled. After a moment, she furrowed her brow, trying to calm herself, but her cynical expression betrayed her as she offered Eugène a pointed correction.

“I understand that you speak without knowing all the facts. Even after her passing, I clearly remember how much glory was layered over the name of the dead. But the many honors and achievements attributed to her were mostly recognized only posthumously, after the son born of her body had seized full power over the empire.”

“…Are you saying she is remembered so beautifully now solely because she was the mother of the current Emperor?”

“Difficult as it may be to admit, yes. It is an undeniable fact. Every mother becomes her son’s temple, and a young, beautiful mother who dies early all the more so. But do not think that all the stories told about her are true. Surprisingly often, reality is far less known than the tales the world tells.”

Eugène could feel the depth of her envy and resentment through her voice, so intense it was almost tangible. For a moment, he almost found himself staring straight into her eyes. Realizing his lapse, he hastily lowered his gaze and fidgeted with his teacup, feigning confusion.

“It is rather difficult to accept such a claim at face value. Even if parts of her reputation were exaggerated after her death, is it not an undeniable fact that she had nothing to do with the Second Landrienne Invasion? Even if her achievements were not as great as the rumors claim, that hardly seems reason enough for her to be so baselessly condemned.”

“Do you truly believe she had nothing whatsoever to do with the Second Landrienne Invasion, Baron?”

“Are you saying she did, then?”

The woman set her teacup down on its saucer with a sharp sound. Stirred further by Eugène’s deliberate provocation, her emotions swelled until, at last, she uttered the very words she should never have spoken.

“That may depend on one’s point of view, but I would not say she was entirely unconnected. In truth, she-”

And it was precisely then. The tension that had been built so carefully was shattered in an instant as a cheerful voice broke in. But the newcomer was no intruder. He was, in fact, the master of the house.

“Oh! Baron Amieux! So it was you! When I heard there was a guest calling at such an early hour, I wondered who it might be.”

Striding briskly across the salon, Viscount Gagnon greeted Eugène in a loud, hearty voice. Though it was his own home, his manner was so informal that the Viscountess Gagnon frowned, momentarily forgetting what she had been about to say.

Eugène, who had been so decisively interrupted at a crucial moment, concealed his frustration, grasped the Viscount’s outstretched hand, and returned the greeting with calm composure.

“It has been some time. Since it felt that we had not crossed paths since my last visit, I wished to stop by and inquire after your well-being.”

“I see. A fortunate thing indeed that it was you, Baron. Otherwise, I might well have misunderstood the situation. I heard my mother was with a young man, and I thought some fearless scoundrel had dared to cross the threshold of my house without fear, so I came running.”

The Viscount burst into hearty laughter and motioned for Eugène, who had risen to greet him, to take his seat once more. Then, without warning, he turned and dropped himself onto the long chair where the Viscountess had been reclining. Startled by his sudden and unannounced action, the Viscountess could only stare in surprise.

She could not hide her look of astonishment and hastily drew back her long legs. The Viscountess, who had nearly shown the unseemly sight of having her legs trapped in front of another, appeared deeply offended.

But there was a guest present who was watching the two of them. Too proud to speak a word, she merely withdrew slightly, creating distance between herself and her son, who had sat far too close for propriety’s sake.

“A fearless scoundrel, you say?”

“Yes. There are such men from time to time. It may sound like boasting, but as you can see, my mother remains a woman of remarkable beauty even at her age. Thanks to that, there are still suitors who fall in love and come knocking at the door of this house, and every time it happens, I find myself in quite a predicament.”

“Good heavens, Viscount. Control yourself! What sort of vulgar talk is that before a guest?”

The Viscountess Gagon winced again at her son’s tactless words. As a woman with such keen and delicate sensibilities, she found it intolerable that her son’s so-called frankness so often crossed into crude impropriety.

“Oh, Mother, why be so embarrassed? It is not as though I am inventing tales. Every word I said is true. You see, Baron Amieux, you may not believe it, but such things happen more often than one might think. Only a few months ago, a young man no older than twenty-six completely lost his senses over my mother, and it caused quite the commotion. What makes it more amusing is that he belonged to a family distantly related to ours! The poor wretch worked himself into such a frenzy that he eventually exhausted himself and left, thank heavens. Otherwise, it would have been dreadfully troublesome. Just imagine. Should I, at my age, have to duel a child still wet behind the ears?”

The Viscount of Gagnon asked as though seeking agreement, but Eugène could only give an awkward smile. Confronted with the Viscountess, whose face had gone pale with humiliation, he found himself at a loss for words. The Viscount, however, seemed entirely unaware of his mother’s distress, or perhaps he was only pretending not to notice.

What a sly man.

Eugène clicked his tongue inwardly at the Viscount’s disingenuous demeanor.

Contrary to his appearance, Viscount Gagnon was a considerable nuisance. He might appear as clumsy and dull as a bison, but beneath that facade, his mind was surprisingly sharp.

This very moment was proof enough. Due to his perfectly timed intrusion, the opportunity Eugène had so carefully prepared was destroyed in an instant. It would now be difficult to steer the conversation back to its earlier course, and even if he tried, it was doubtful that the Viscountess, already so shaken, would offer a meaningful answer.

The Viscountess’ nerves were frayed to the limit by her son’s impertinence. In truth, under such circumstances, Eugène could not be sure he would even have another chance to speak with her.

What scent has he picked up, I wonder?

Behind their polite smiles, both men were measuring each other with quiet wariness. The Viscount, while keeping up a stream of trivial conversation to maintain control of the exchange, was inwardly full of suspicion toward Eugène’s true intent.