Only one day had passed since the search for his younger sister in the maid's house had ended in failure, but for Livius it had felt like an eternity.
He was restless. His study, where he currently was, now seemed like a stuffy cage. The sunlight filtering through the tall lancet windows only irritated him — it was too bright, too calm for the hell raging in his soul.
Livius stood by the fireplace, where the embers had long since died out, and stared at a single point on the wall. His amethyst eyes, usually shining with cold intelligence and iron will, had darkened to almost black. Something dangerous was frozen in them — that very quiet, lingering rage.
Every heartbeat echoed in his temples with throbbing pain. Since yesterday, he had eaten nothing and not slept a wink, so he felt exhausted. But physical fatigue was nothing compared to the icy fury that gripped his chest.
"Remesis..."
He gripped the armrest of the chair so hard his knuckles turned white.
Where was she now? Was she safe? What was that bastard doing to her? Thoughts, each darker than the last, swarmed in his head, and Livius kept checking himself, not allowing his imagination to paint the most terrible pictures. He had to act quickly. Coldly. Calculatedly. Mercilessly.
While there was still time, he had to find and bring back his sister as soon as possible.
At that moment, a knock came at the door.
"Come in," Livius's voice sounded hollow.
The door opened, and Morris appeared in the doorway. His face was paler than usual, dark circles lay under his eyes — apparently, he had not slept a wink all this time, carrying out his master's orders. His clothes were disheveled, his hair tangled, but his eyes burned with determination.
Morris entered, carefully closed the door behind him, and stood still, not daring to raise his gaze.
"My lord..." he began, his voice trembling.
Livius slowly turned around. The expression on his servant's face alone made him tense internally. Morris did not look like a man who had brought good news. Rather, he resembled someone carrying an unbearable burden on his shoulders.
"Speak," Livius ordered shortly, not wanting to waste time on empty prefaces.
Morris swallowed. For a second, he hesitated, as if hoping the words would come on their own, but realizing that the pause only irritated his master, he made up his mind.
"I have found out where Lady Remesis is."
Livius tensed. Hope flared in his chest for a moment — scorching, sharp. But he immediately suppressed it, not allowing himself to relax.
"Continue."
"She..." Morris faltered, choosing his words, "it seems she has already managed to leave the capital. According to the information we were able to obtain, my lady left together with..." he took a breath, "together with her wife, the Lord of the North."
The silence that filled the study was ringing.
Livius froze.
His face did not flinch. Not a single muscle betrayed emotion. But in his eyes — in those deep, amethyst eyes — something changed imperceptibly. As if a fuse had been lit inside, and now the flame was slowly, inexorably crawling upward towards the powder keg.
"...What did you say?" his voice sounded quiet. And because of that — ten times more terrifying.
Morris involuntarily took half a step back.
"As you commanded, we cordoned off the entire capital with our soldiers in search! But the lady's trail was never found... However, I later found out that the Lord of the North's carriage was also spotted in the capital. Therefore, it would be reasonable to assume that the lady also left the city with her."
"....."
"Lord Michel..." the servant faltered, "Unfortunately, we have not found out anything about him yet. It seems the guards saw a young man resembling him in the city, but when we sent guards there, that person was no longer there."
"..."
"Of course, we are still continuing the search, but..." he began again, but Livius abruptly raised his hand, silencing him.
"I understand everything."
These were only two words, but there was so much icy contempt and anger in them that Morris's breath caught.
Livius turned away to the window, digging his fingers into the windowsill. The wood creaked pitifully under the pressure of his fingers.
The fact that his older brother had still not been found did not actually shock Livius that much. After all, that guy had no other choice anyway. Now that he was left with nothing and had not a shred of power, catching him was not such a big problem. At least, the capital was not infinite, and sooner or later the rat would fall into the trap anyway.
But regarding his sister...
Here Livius could not restrain his anger.
After all, he could never have guessed that his sister's wife would show up right now. And what was she even doing in the capital? Why had Livius known nothing about this until now? All these thoughts were driving him mad.
And, worst of all...
That devilish woman had indeed apparently stolen his sister.
"Damn!..."
So that was how it had turned out.
This was not just a kidnapper. This was a lawful spouse who had every right to take Remesis away and be near her. Based on this, he could not even hold her accountable, since it was all happening legally.
This very thought burned him like acid.
And yet...
"North," Livius said slowly, syllable by syllable. "So, the North."
Even so, he was still not going to give up.
He was not going to give Remesis to that devil so easily.
Because, in the end, everything he had done so far had been only for her. So that he could finally protect her.
Based on this, Livius spun around sharply. His eyes burned — not just with anger, but with something utterly destructive.
"Prepare the carriage. I am going north. Immediately."
Morris grew even paler.
"My lord, but this is madness! The North is not our territory. We have no power or influence there. If you really go there..."
"I said, prepare the carriage!" Livius barked, his voice echoing through the study.
But Morris did not move. He stood, pale as a sheet, but with desperate determination in his eyes.
He decided that he must, at all costs, dissuade his master from such a mad venture.
"My lord, I beg you, listen!" he said, bowing his head low. "I understand your anger. But going north alone is too dangerous. You don't even have permission for this. Even if you reach its lands, they simply won't let you across the border."
Livius slowly turned his gaze to him. In that gaze was only cold, calculated determination.
"Who said I would go alone?" he asked quietly.
Morris froze.
"I will mobilize the army of the Duchy of Carter," Livius continued, and every word of his was like thunder. "If the North dared to steal my sister — it will answer with blood. I will go to war against it. And I will grind its lands to dust if necessary!"
"War?!" Morris gasped, forgetting about a servant's subordination. "My lord, you cannot! If you attack first — that will be high treason! The Crown will not tolerate civil war! We will be declared rebels, and then..."
"I don't care about the Emperor and his entourage!" Livius stepped forward, and Morris involuntarily backed away until his back hit the door. "I don't care about the laws. I don't care about the consequences. Do you hear me?! The Lord of the North has stolen and is forcibly holding my sister. And I am not going to let that slide."
He spun around sharply and headed to the table where the map of the empire lay. His fingers, still trembling with barely contained fury, traced across the parchment.
"Order the captain of the guard to come to me within an hour. I will draw up a mobilization plan. Also, send messengers to all the vassals of the Duchy of Carter — let them prepare their troops. I want at least five thousand swords at my disposal within three days."
"....."
At that moment, something inside Morris finally collapsed and fell apart.
He simply could not believe his ears.
Could not believe that his cold and rational master, as he had always known him, could give such a thoughtless order now...
No, this was simply madness!
Not considering that the very act of attacking someone else's territory was in itself high treason, this was also a war that had no chance of a favorable outcome from the very beginning. It was well known that the army of the north was several times larger than the Emperor's own army. To go against them, even with a force of five thousand men, was tantamount to suicide.
And besides, the pretext for such a mad adventure was equally insane.
In the end... all of this was merely for the sake of one woman.
"My lord, I implore you, stop!" Morris fell to his knees, his voice breaking into a desperate cry. "War is not a game! How can you just make such a decision?!"
"What else do you suggest?" Livius snorted coldly. "How exactly can I bring my sister home if the north is not going to do it willingly? War remains."
Morris was momentarily speechless.
His shoulders slumped.
His master... Had apparently gone completely mad.
Of course, he knew how attached his master truly was to his younger sister. Even during the time Remesis Rania Ashelot had been staying here, he had not left her side for a moment. He was even ready to easily neglect the affairs of the duchy for her sake. And Morris, even if he didn't like it at all, had to accept it.
But war... Wasn't that going too far?!
In the end, by undertaking such a mad stunt, his master could easily lose everything he had strived for over many years. No, this was not even a risk. It was a guarantee of failure.
Morris felt such hopelessness that he involuntarily trembled all over.
Could he simply watch his master willingly sink to the bottom?
"My lord, war means thousands of lives! Give me a little more time. I will find a way to bring my lady back without bloodshed. I..."
"Get up," Livius interrupted him in an icy tone. "Your attempts to dissuade me will be completely pointless."
Morris had to rise, but his face was full of despair.
"My lord..."
"Enough," Livius cut him off. "The decision is made and is not up for discussion."
He turned back to the map, already mentally deploying troops, plotting routes, calculating how many days it would take to reach the borders of the North. The anger in his chest gradually subsided, replaced by cold, calculated determination. This was when Livius Carter was truly dangerous — not when he shouted, but when he fell silent and began to act.
Morris, realizing that arguing was useless, sighed heavily and was already reaching for the door to carry out the order, when suddenly...
"Not a bad strategy, son. But there is one small problem."
The voice came from nowhere.
Livius spun around sharply.
Morris froze with his hand on the doorknob, his face white as chalk.
In the far corner of the study, where a moment ago there had been no one, stood a man. He had appeared so silently and suddenly that he seemed to have materialized out of thin air.
"...Father?" Livius's voice trembled for the first time in all this time.
Confusion flickered in his eyes for a second. Bewilderment. But most of all... fear.
Because this was his father, Duke Michael Carter, whom he had not expected to see here at all.
The man with cold blue eyes smiled slightly — with only the corners of his lips, without a trace of warmth.
"Mobilize the army of the duchy?" he chuckled softly. "Isn't that a bit presumptuous of you, as merely the acting head of this house?"