"This is a frame-up!"
In an office of the Privy Council, the old nobleman stood before the Duke, his face flushed with anger. He had never sent anyone to smash up the Small Earl's shops. The other party had pointed the finger straight at him—it was an utterly blatant frame-up!
He had every reason to be angry. He had been falsely accused of things he had never done.
The Duke furrowed his brow, removed his glasses, and rubbed his eyes. He looked somewhat exhausted. "He didn't say someone else did it. He specifically said you did it. There has to be a reason for that."
Then he lowered his hands and looked at the old nobleman.
The skin around his glasses had loosened and developed some wrinkles. His eyes were no longer as clear as those of the children, appearing dull, blotchy, and extremely cloudy.
Yet those very eyes put tremendous pressure on the old nobleman.
The old nobleman closed his mouth and said nothing.
The Duke brought up what had happened earlier. "I remember your daughter's husband, Kipplin—is that his name?" After receiving confirmation, he continued, "He seems to have been beaten up a few days ago. Someone said their nephew had done it, and then this happened soon after."
"None of us would believe this was an isolated incident. What do you think?"
"And..." The Duke slightly deepened his tone. "We all know what we should be doing most right now, and we also know who our true opponent is. Don't you agree?"
Uniting all the nobles to overthrow the monarchy had already become their shared consensus, and it was backed by historical precedent.
For example, when the Gefra Empire was founded, Gefra I had promised the nobles that, as during the period of the Noble Council, he