Judge of Cosmos

CHAPTER 12

'If she refuses to help, I cannot blame her,' Count Globin thought, bracing himself for disappointment.

"Alright. I'll visit the south and do my best to help you," the young madam had said.

He was stunned. His faith in the Grand Duchess had not been misplaced. Without hesitation, she had offered her assistance, and now she was even drinking the cheap wine most commoners endured. 'She's a mystery,' he thought, his admiration growing.

"Are you saying it rains every day, yet the land remains dry?" Moraine asked, her tone curious and concerned.

"Yes, Your Grace. This year, the soil has become even drier than before. We've conducted numerous studies since the drying began, but despite the efforts of the Grand Duke and the tower magicians, we've found no solution," Count Globin explained, his frustration evident.

Moraine pursed her lips in thought. "We'll inspect the area again tomorrow. I have a few ideas, but I need to see it for myself before I can be sure."

"Oh! Yes, Your Grace," Count Globin replied, a glimmer of hope returning to his eyes.

Later, Moraine retired to the modest guestroom. The chambers were bare, furnished only with the essentials—a bed and a bathroom. The presence of basic sanitation necessities hinted that despite their hardships, the household still prioritized cleanliness.

"Kana is here, madam," Laila informed her, emerging from the bathroom where Moraine had just bathed.

"Let her in," Moraine replied.

Kana, who had been sent ahead to gather information on Marquis Lamoure, entered the room. She had been working undercover as a lady-in-waiting, supposedly overseeing the distribution of relief supplies to the south.

"Did you bring the list of reliefs I asked for, Kana? Let me see it now."

Kana understood the true meaning of the request. She discreetly retrieved a brown envelope, containing everything she had uncovered about Marquis Lamoure. Moraine took the envelope and dismissed the servants, including Kana, to avoid arousing suspicion. The room was dimly lit by a small magic stone lamp.

As Moraine read the contents, her lips curled into a grimace. The report was far worse than she had anticipated, filled with vile and repulsive details about the Marquis. Her temper flared as she scanned the pages.

"That imbecile," she hissed.

The papers scattered as Moraine flung them onto the coffee table. She sighed deeply, massaging her temples in an attempt to calm herself. Exhausted, she collapsed onto the bed. As she lay there, the sound of raindrops pattering against the window drew her attention. 

'It's raining,' she thought, closing her eyes as the darkness enveloped her.

Meanwhile, at Vernize Castle, Ajax stood in his study, his expression darkening. "My wife is where?"

"The madam is at Count Globin's territory," Tom, his advisor, replied cautiously.

Ajax's annoyance was palpable. "That man still hasn't given up, has he? And now he's groveling at Moraine's feet? How dare he!"

Tom pressed his lips together, hesitating before speaking. "Your Grace, the Grand Duchess left a message for you in case you became angry."

Ajax narrowed his eyes. "What is it?"
"Mind your own business."

Keene, Ajax's right-hand man, immediately blurted out in disbelief, "What did you just say to the Grand Duke, Tom?"

While his subordinates squabbled, Ajax's mind was elsewhere, distracted. Tom had faithfully relayed Moraine's exact words, and as he repeated them aloud, a sudden image flashed through Ajax's mind—a red-eyed woman with a blank gaze, her hair swaying as she uttered those words with careless indifference. Telling your husband to "mind your own business" wasn't something normal couples did. 

'Well, we aren't a normal couple to begin with,' Ajax thought bitterly.

Clicking his tongue in irritation, Ajax signaled to Tom to prepare his bath. With Laila now under Moraine's command, he had no choice but to rely on the butler.

"Ajax." A soft whisper brushed past his ear. 

"Neria."

"Well, that's our cue to leave!" Heron teased, letting out a whistle before Keene dragged him away.

As soon as they were gone, Ajax sighed heavily and sank into the sofa. His mind had been in turmoil for far too long, and now that he was married, he couldn't even describe the emptiness gnawing at him. 

'What am I missing?' he wondered, frustration gnawing at his thoughts.

"Ajax," Neria began, her voice steady as she took a seat across from him. "Your wife seems to have won over the servants of the manor. By her actions, it seems she's also making moves to gain the loyalty of the vassals."

Ajax looked up, his expression hardening. "Well, internal affairs are under her control. Just because I'm the lord doesn't mean I have the right to interfere with what's hers."
The brunette woman's forehead creased, her olive eyes trembling as she struggled to process his words. The thought that the man before her was acknowledging a stranger—an Easterner, no less—as his wife and the Grand Duchess of his people was too much for her to bear.

"She's an Easterner. You know what those barbarians are capable of. She must be a spy!" Neria spat, her voice thick with anger.

"Neria." Ajax's voice was cold and low, reverberating through the room with an unmistakable finality. "What Moraine does is neither your concern nor mine. She's been recognized by the emperor, and no one can look down on the daughter of Sir Madoc Clarke, the hero of the empire."

"Is that so? Or have you been swayed?" Neria's voice wavered with fury. "Ajax, you've become too complacent, especially concerning my father, the Marquis. Do you really think I'll continue to uphold our deal when you can't even keep your end of the bargain?"

"Watch your words, Lady Lamoure," Ajax muttered through clenched teeth. "For six months, none of the information you've provided has been of any use. I could have discovered it all without your help."

"Do you still want to keep our deal, Ajax?" Neria's voice trembled, her olive eyes glistening with unshed tears. "If you don't, I can stop."

As if on cue, tears burst from her doe-like eyes. Ajax sighed, his headache worsening—a constant ache since Moraine's arrival, now intensified by the emotional turmoil in front of him.

Neria, sobbing like a child, was soon cocooned in the embrace of the man she desired most. His warm hands and larger stature enveloped her completely, offering a fleeting sense of safety. A familiar, bittersweet feeling swept through her chest.

"Stop crying," Ajax murmured, his voice softened by resignation. He gently caressed her hair, trying to soothe her, even as his own thoughts remained in disarray.