“Your Excellency, preparations are complete.”

“Wait.”

Calix stared at the window of Mariel’s room.

The room through the window was still clearly lit. A black shadow flickered in the background, indicating that they were still packing up their belongings.

“Please send Mariel to the Academy.”

Perhaps it was because she was her only blood relative.

But Calix had never felt any particular emotion for his blood relatives.

He didn’t have any siblings, to begin with, and even then, he didn’t feel that much affection for his parents.

His mother had died soon after giving birth to him, and his father had been as cold and ruthless as Benvito’s bloodline usually was.

Even his son was no an exception.

When the previous Grand Duke Benvito met his end, Calix was on the battlefield. He did not return to the Duchy, even though the tide of battle was already turning and the odds were indeed in his favor.

There was only a brief report that the funeral had been successfully held written by Ryzen.

So the emotions Asella was showing her sister were a bit unfamiliar.

After a moment of pondering, Calix’s red eyes narrowed as he spotted something.

The lights in the room went out.

A moment later, the door opened, and a small woman descended the stairs, holding the child’s hand.

Her steps were swift as she made her way toward him. But it was such a graceful walk, like flowing water, that only someone with a sharp gaze would have noticed.

Asella crossed the wide path in the middle and stood in front of Calix.

Her face was slightly flushed as if to prove that she had come in a hurry.

“I’m sorry to keep you waiting.”

There was a short gap between her words as if she was out of breath.

“Mariel, you have to greet His Excellency.”

“Hello, Your Excellency.”

Calix nodded lightly. Then he glanced down at the relatively small suitcase she held in one hand.

Not one of the servants outside had stepped forward to help her with her luggage, and despite the fact that the Marquise’s daughter was leaving the house, not one of them came to her departure.

Calix once again realized her standing in the family.

When Ryzen, always on the lookout, quickly approached her and asked for her luggage, Asella hesitated for a moment before handing over her suitcase.

“Is that all of your luggage?”

“…Yes.”

To put it bluntly, her luggage, in a good way, was simple, but objectively, it was shabby.

While feeling a little shame, Asella prepared to answer the question that would follow soon. It was a luxury to ask others to understand when she couldn’t easily convince herself.

But for some reason, he did not ask her further.

Instead, Calix’s sharp eyes went to the man who had been standing in the background.

Under his gaze, Philip slumped to his feet.

‘That’s terrible.’

There wasn’t a single decent part in him, no matter how they looked at him.

A cold contempt flashed across Calix’s face and then disappeared.

Ryzen also fully understood his master’s displeasure.

No matter how bad it was in the past, Chartus was still a high-class noble family of the Empire. Refusing to pay a dowry was one thing, but this was just… terrible.

‘The Marquise’s daughter is getting married, and they only prepare such modest luggage.’

If this bag was filled with jewels, that would be one thing, but considering the weight of the bag he just received, it was evident that there were only some clothes in it.

‘It doesn’t look like there will be any servants coming along with her.’

Typically, when a daughter of a noble family gets married, there would be a few servants moving with her to her husband’s house to take care of her and serve her on the trip.

However, the fact that there was no one to come along with her only meant that the Grand Duchess had been living without an attendant all this time.

‘Was it not enough to rob his dead wife of her entire fortune?’

Ryzen took back his comment that Philip’s level was at rock bottom.

This guy was trash—a disgusting scumbag who lived as the filthy shit of the world.

At this point, Ryzen regretted very much that his master had not cut off even one of Anthony’s arms earlier.