The Viscountess is Clever [Romance/Kingdom Building]

A year ago, three weeks after Miller took the Viscount Title. The Libert Mansion, Ironwood Viscounty.

Dun~ Dundun!~

The thunder roared violently through the midnight sky, illuminating the heavens in a sudden, blinding flash of light. Outside the grand doors of the Libert Mansion, three figures stood in the darkness: two standing tall while the third quietly picked the iron lock.

“It is rare to see severe thunderstorms in the North. Quite a day, huh... Lord Miller?” Kenny noted, tilting his head up to look at the starless, black sky that continued to crackle with thunder at set intervals.

“Rain itself is a rarity here, Kenny. It mostly just snows,” Miller replied calmly, pulling up his heavy hood as the lockpicker finally clicked the door open. “Alright, let’s get inside and check out what that odd letter we received was actually about.”

Leading the way, Miller stepped across the threshold and into the dark mansion.

Dun~ Dundun!~

Another flash of lightning immediately followed the rolling thunder, brightening the pitch-black hallway for a brief fraction of a second. The sudden light revealed nothing but empty, completely unmaintained stone walls stretching on and on into the gloom.

“I already knew from our official documents that the Libert family was not really in a good financial state, but this...” Miller noted under his breath, his boots echoing against the dusty floorboards as they walked in.

“They dismissed the last of their household servants months ago, so I guess a state of decay like this isn't entirely surprising,” Kenny replied from right behind him, carrying a glowing lantern to light their path while keeping his other hand securely resting on the hilt of his sword.

Dun~ Dundun!~

With the resonance of another thunderclap, the group finally reached the doors of the main hall. Miller very cautiously pushed the heavy wooden doors open. As the brilliant glare of the lightning slowly faded into the shadows, a sudden, overpowering smell of thick blood aggressively invaded their senses.

Taking just one single step inside the room, the unmistakable, wet stickiness of the floor was completely undeniable, the metallic stench deeply penetrating everyone’s noses.

Dun~ Dundun!~

The next burst of light vividly revealed the horrific scene inside. A young man sat slumped against the far wall, completely covered in fresh blood, his arms wrapped protectively around a trembling, small girl. All around them, the lifeless bodies of several adult nobles lay violently scattered across the floor.

As the flash of lightning started to fade back into darkness, the blood-soaked young man raised his head, looking straight up toward the two intruders with an eerie, unwavering focus in his eyes.

“Welcome to the Libert Mansion, my Lord,” he said, his lips curling into a hollow, self-deprecating smile as he stared at the viscous pool around him. “I am Jeckson Libert... the one who killed all of these animals.”

Dun~ Dundun!~

“They were planning to sell the remaining children off... Some of the orphans had already been sold into slavery the very moment the family caught wind that the previous Viscount was being officially stripped of his title and replaced by you,” Kenny reported later, reading through the seized household ledgers.

Nearby, the small, traumatized girl was gently being taken care of by their personal medics. Jeckson sat quietly at the heavy wooden dining table in heavy iron chains, slowly eating from a warm bowl of porridge that had been placed before him.

“And he ruthlessly slaughtered them all just over that? Aren’t the victims in the other room his own biological parents?” Miller asked, casting a long, calculating side glance at the blood-stained youth.

Kenny nodded grimly. “He was kept locked away in a dark room by his own family for the vast majority of his life, my Lord... Apparently, the lineage records show he possesses genuine mermaid blood in his veins... just... like...” Kenny hesitated for a brief second, clearing his throat before finishing quietly, “You.”

Dun~ Dundun!~

“Arresting a boy for protecting children from a fate like this doesn’t seem fair,” Kenny muttered as the young girl was carefully led out of the mansion into a secure carriage.

Miller walked up to the chained youth, staring down into his vacant eyes before extending a firm, open hand toward him. “What do you say, Jeckson? Do you wish to become the next rightful Head of the Libert Family and support my rule?”

“Lord Miller?!” Kenny asked, his voice spiking with genuine surprise. He stepped forward to intervene. “We literally just got the position of Viscount three weeks ago. The Vassal Council already looks at us with severe hostility, they will absolutely never favor a sudden, suspicious succession like this! We—”

Miller raised a hand, smoothly countering his aide's panic. “Then we will simply hide the truth from them. We will deploy Jeckson to the Capital alongside the elite military unit we are currently sending to guard His Highness the Third Prince. Let’s immediately spread a controlled rumor through the territory that the current Lord Libert has fallen drastically ill, forcing the family to completely keep to themselves, and that they have sent their young son, Jeckson, to the Capital to pursue an advanced education.”

Miller looked back down at the youth, his red eyes unwavering. “You can safely return here in a year or so, once I have secured my political position a bit more over the council.”

Dun~ Dundun!~

Jeckson looked up at Miller, a fierce, newly awakened spark of absolute determination burning in his eyes. He reached out his chained hands, firmly grasping Miller's palm. “I will serve you with my life, my Lord... just... please make sure that the little girl is safe and fine.”

Miller smiled warmly, his grip tightening in a solid, binding pact. “That is not the only thing I want from you, Jeckson. I simply don’t want you to ever blame yourself, or the nature of your blood. What you did in this room to protect the innocent is not a curse caused by what you are... You are not a monster.”

A few weeks ago, somewhere in the North.

“So, this is the official itinerary my dear sister sent over?” Ivan chuckled, reading the parchment carefully as the carriage rattled over the rough terrain. He focused his gaze on a specific dates. “Let’s go ahead and utilize the Reafel plan.”

Albert responded immediately, his brow furrowing in confusion. “What? Inside the Ironwood territory itself?! How on earth are you going to successfully pull off framing someone right under their noses? I thought we were strictly saving that plan for lobbying the more stubborn, uncooperative lords elsewhere in the North...”

“The lobbying process has been going far more smoothly than I initially anticipated, so... I think using the Reafel plan to forcibly extract the Azure Tear from my sister is a spectacular idea,” Ivan chuckled, his eyes gleaming with ambition.

He pulled out another piece of intelligence from his stack. “Look at this detailed report from that local source, Randell, whom you found. Lord Miller’s public reputation has been growing incredibly positive ever since he directly intervened in my sister’s recent meeting with that local chicken cooperative association.”

“I honestly don’t see what you are seeing here, young Lord Ivan...” Albert admitted, shaking his head.

Ivan pointed his finger directly toward the timestamped logs on the report. “Lord Miller arrived right on time, arresting the vassal lord as if he knew the council’s secret sabotage plans beforehand. There must be a hidden mole inside the Vassal Council helping him from the shadows.”

Folding his hands across his chest, Ivan laid out his logic. “We simply need to identify this mole. We will have Reafel get caught intentionally for some petty crime so he is placed into the custody of the Ironwood troops. Once he is locked down, we kill Reafel ourselves. Framing their inside mole for the murder of a high noble's squire will instantly allow us to grant the rest of the council massive political leverage over Miller. And even if we fail to identify the exact mole correctly, it still results in a positive outcome for us.”

“How so?” Albert asked, wanting to clarify the angles.

Ivan’s lips curled into a victorious smile. “Only you and I know that Reafel is actually a vile criminal who deserves to die. But to the rest of high society and the Imperial courts, one of my personal squires will have died brutally while under the direct custody of the Ironwood household, murdered by an Ironwood native. I can easily negotiate a quiet settlement, demanding the Azure Tear from Francesca in exchange for dropping the massive criminal charges against them.”

Sigh.

Albert let out a slow, tired breath, looking out the carriage window. “You and your relentless obsession with magic artifacts...”

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