Author: 冬瓜茶仙人 / Winter Melon Tea Immortal

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/

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Chapter 123

Dwight was actually not very interested in his sister’s romantic experiences, but since pregnant women were a group one must never offend, he changed the subject and asked, “Since he’s with the Wolf Family, can a meeting with the astrologer be arranged?”

“It might be difficult,” Priscilla replied, her expression turning serious as the conversation shifted to more serious matters. “The struggle between Lestrop and Tifa has spread across the continent. Without a guarantee of results, they won’t be as attentive as before, and everyone is watching.”

Dwight’s brow furrowed, but he quickly relaxed.

Lestrop had entrusted Priscilla to request a meeting with the astrologer, and being in White Bridge, a place known for extravagant spending, at least indicated that a significant portion of his wealth was now in his wife’s hands. More importantly, Priscilla had never been someone who needed to rely on her husband. Her status before marriage as the daughter of the Duke of Pennigra made her move to Mokwen a clear step down.

The value of an imperial title in the Modicon Empire wasn’t something that the fractious states of Doran could match. Even far across another continent, the words “Duke of Brandenburg” were enough to secure Priscilla VIP treatment here.

“Keeping a low profile now is a good thing.” Priscilla, as the person involved, could sense the changing winds even earlier than Dwight and sincerely reassured her brother. “I don’t want too much attention on me… and I have a bad feeling about this auction.”

Her premonition wasn’t from herself, nor even from the kingdom of Mokwen, but from White Bridge—the auction wasn’t held every year, so each time it was a golden spectacle. The atmosphere in the inner city was growing thicker, as if even the air was imbued with a scent of luxury. However, Priscilla sensed instability from some of Louis’s unusually tense behaviors.

“The Foxes and Lions always have representatives here. I think the Mokwen royal family’s experiment with the Holy Grail isn’t unique. There must also be people in the east and north harboring similar ambitions. Once the Holy Grail descends, the Wolves would be the direct beneficiary—perhaps along with Monkeys, which would disrupt the balance among the four Black Gold Families. Is that what you are nervous about?” Dwight never saw his sister as merely a princess tending roses in a high tower. On the contrary, when he was still young, it was Priscilla who would softly analyze the imperial situation, the future of their family, and the trials he might face as a Dwight in her bedroom. So, aside from his conjectures about the relationship between the Charlie brothers and the Holy Grail, he always shared his own predictions and plans with Priscilla.

“Perhaps,” Priscilla said. “I had many ideas, like personally taking revenge on Lestrop, expanding our southern territories, and leveraging the precarious relationship between Tifa and Christine. But as time draws near, those thoughts have changed a lot. Now my greatest prayer is for the child to be healthy and safe.”

“I’ve become weaker,” she murmured softly.

Dwight didn’t think so and was about to speak when he was startled by a sudden movement under his hand.

“Ah, it moved.” Priscilla also felt it. “Does it know Uncle is here?”

The little life inside her, of course, couldn’t hear her speak and didn’t know its movement had scared the typically stoic Duke of Brandenburg quite a bit. The sudden action seemed just like turning over, and soon it quieted down again.

Dwight wasn’t good at comforting a moodily pregnant woman, nor did he know how to articulate his feelings about experiencing fetal movement for the first time (he was more frightened than pleased, afraid that saying too much might be wrong), so he just held her hand. Priscilla, rarely seeing her brother in such a predicament, finally laughed again.

“Come on, don’t be so serious. Not even Ceylon gets this treatment,” she said. “Don’t always target him. In terms of how to be a good man, he’s a bit smarter than you.”

“If you mean hiring doctors to make one feel romantic—”

“You know what I mean.”

The siblings looked at each other for a moment, neither backing down.

“Don’t read so many grammar books. Those poems won’t really teach you how to love,” Priscilla said delicately.

She was actually more worried that there simply wasn’t anyone in the world who could make Dwight fall in love. Good heavens, she could hardly imagine what Dwight would be like if he were gentle and caring toward someone. She was probably the closest person to him in the world, and even their interactions often made her want to twist his ear.

“I won’t worry about that,” Dwight said coolly. “I prefer to express myself in person.”

Priscilla thought she had heard wrong.

Express what?

To whom?

Was this statement just habitual contradiction, or was he serious?

Priscilla couldn’t help but sit up straighter, staring at him for a while, but she didn’t voice her questions.

Although Dwight certainly wouldn’t answer them either.

He nonchalantly steered the conversation back. “I really do need a meeting. If Kurt can’t be arranged, at least Louis can, right?”

For various reasons, he felt he should meet the other party.

After thinking for a moment, Priscilla finally agreed.

……

“With the auction just less than three days away, Mr. Louis already has plenty scheduled,” Alexander said quietly. “Plus, he was injured recently, and the doctor has ordered him to abstain from alcohol and even stimulant drinks, making it really difficult to arrange anything.”

His demeanor was respectful, but his tone left no room for argument. The man sitting across from him, sporting a neatly trimmed goatee, shifted his eyes around the reception room several times.

Alexander suppressed the urge to complain and maintained an unchanging smile on his face.

Seeing that the meeting was going nowhere, the visitor finally stood up to leave. Alexander breathed a sigh of relief internally and had Annie, who was in charge of hospitality, see him out.

Another thin young man, who had been waiting for a while, finally approached Alexander. “Mr. Abram has sent an invitation for the second time in three days.”

“Decline it. Say that the boss was still feverish yesterday,” Alexander instructed. “No, actually, prepare a gift. I’ll deliver it personally tonight… and for Miss Prima, pick something from the stuff the boss brought back from Fortuna City last week. Don’t buy from the ‘Venus’ store.”

He thought for a moment, then turned back to pull out a notepad, quickly listing several PR gifts and their recipients to make sure he hadn’t missed anything before handing the list to the young man, asking him to have it done by tonight at the latest.

Every auction was almost as hectic as going to war.

Alexander, deprived of sleep, took a moment to relax instead of heading straight back to his office. He sat on the sofa in the reception room and smoked a cigarette to perk up.

The Five Elders were all extremely busy at this time. Countless people wanted to meet them, each with different motives and intentions, such as trying to poach a major client like the Countess, hoping Louis would turn a blind eye during the auction patrol for some shady deal, or continuously confirming whether Louis really was injured, perhaps unable to perform his duties, looking to take his place—since Louis wasn’t making public appearances, Alexander had to deal with these matters. His face was stiff from all the forced smiling.

Moreover, with both the Foxes and the Lions coming, protocol dictated they be received by senior members. Normally, Louis couldn’t avoid this. The Lions were manageable, but the Foxes were particularly sly. Dealing with them was draining, and special arrangements had to be made to prevent the Fox Family, professional spies, from planting their people in White Bridge…

Alexander took a deep drag of his cigarette, puffing out clouds of smoke, just as Annie returned.

She brought a letter with her.

Even though it was the practice in White Bridge not to emboss family crests on the seal of the envelope to avoid giving anyone a handle against them, plain envelopes looked unattractive. So, various beautiful but meaningless designs had emerged. Alexander knew it was from their distinguished guest, the Countess from Mokwen, as soon as he saw the azalea patterns.

He promptly extinguished his cigarette, changed his jacket, and took the letter upstairs to Louis.

Louis was also writing a letter and looked up only when he heard Alexander enter.

“What is it?”

Of course, he wasn’t injured, and his symptoms from the cold had completely cleared up, but overtime had left him looking almost as bad as the sick, with under-eye circles as dark as Alexander’s.

“A letter from the Countess,” Alexander stated formally.

He had seen the Countess once or twice—a gentle and elegant young woman. Although their interaction was based on financial transactions, she was prioritized by Louis—Alexander secretly thought there might be a bit of an affair, but he had no evidence.

Perhaps the letter in his hands was proof. Unfortunately, he couldn’t read it.

Unaware of his assistant’s speculations, Louis unfolded the letter, his brow furrowing slowly as he read.

Priscilla’s brother is also in White Bridge?

If his memory served him right, the man was supposed to be a Duke from the Modicon Empire, but he hadn’t heard of any noble of that rank being dispatched to Doran in the last six months.

Unless this young duke had smuggled himself illegally—considering he had entered White Bridge so quietly, it was very likely.

Asking to meet with him, partly for Priscilla, suggested the Dwight family must already know quite a bit about what Lestrop had done. Crossing the continent in secret like this suggested that the Duke of Brandenburg greatly valued his sister.

The traditional nobility’s disdain for the Black Gold Families was well known, and Louis didn’t think it would be any different on another continent. If the Duke was asking to meet him, it was either because he found him particularly objectionable and wanted to vent face-to-face, or he wanted to weigh up the man who had spirited his sister away—either way, the visitor bore ill intentions.

Louis looked at another informal invitation on his desk. It was also as difficult to refuse like the one from the Duke, as it came from the current head of the Wolf Family, Khalif.

It’s true. Troubles never came in just one.

The auction hadn’t even started, and Louis was already physically and mentally worn out. He folded the letter and stuffed it into an open ink pot on his desk. As soon as the paper touched the rusty brown ink, the edges quickly curled and blackened, and in less than three breaths, the entire letter burned away, the ashes completely falling into the “ink”, which for a moment turned a dazzling orange-red.

He watched the seemingly harmless ink bottle for a while before saying, “The day after tomorrow.”

“Miss Prima will personally thank you for the gift,” Alexander immediately said. “You have a meeting with Lord Khalif in the evening.”

“Then make it noon.” Louis said. “A gift? Prima’s birthday is in June.”

“Tomorrow is the first anniversary of her ‘Pink Iris’ shop opening, and there will be a small celebration attended mostly by her friends,” Alexander explained smoothly.

Louis nodded, knowing Alexander had likely already declined for him.

“Let Annie prepare the gift, but don’t buy it here. Take it from the ship,” Louis instructed.

“Understood. I’ve specifically ordered not to touch the goods from the Monkeys,” Alexander said.

White Bridge was co-managed by the Wolves and Monkeys. Since the latter excelled in various illegal trades, over half of the shopping stores in the inner city were controlled by the Monkey Family, identified by a small gold star embossed on their signs.

Louis never liked them, but this request wasn’t entirely personal. The Monkey’s sources were overly secretive and suspicious; their smuggling operations weren’t just about running black ships—among the four families, the Monkeys were the most obsessed with black magic. Even their neighbors, the Wolves, couldn’t fully fathom how deep they had delved, especially on the eve of the auction, when a large amount of mysterious goods flooded in. It was better to be safe than sorry. Alexander was well aware of this.

He replaced the tea by Louis’s side with a fresh one and lifted the processed wicker file basket before exiting.

Only after the door was completely closed did Louis stand up and walk to the window, pushing aside the tied curtains. Sure enough, on the windowsill, he saw a small gray figure, which started hopping excitedly upon finally being noticed.

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The author has something to say:

Louis still doesn’t know that Charlie is allied with the Duke.

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