Whatever glory the Mad Dog Duke had known in life, the figure swaying in the breeze from the gallows was a shadow of his former self.
He had died in the square where his sister had once said goodbye to Annan.
Some of the invited Nobles of the Duchy covered their mouths with handkerchiefs. It was hard to tell whether they feared laughing aloud or saw their own fate in the judgment of a great Noble.
Girardi had forced them to come. Annan had forced Girardi. Olmedo had forced Annan.
Olmedo wanted to turn the Duchy into Free City's backyard, so it would be best to keep Girardi, the soon-to-be Grand Duke, under control. Annan had no such intention. His thinking was simple: I don't want to take your power or meddle in your affairs. Why can't we sit down together and make money happily?
There was a banquet that evening, both to celebrate the end of the war and to welcome Girardi and the Nobles who had changed sides with the wind.
Annan temporarily lent Ingrid to Girardi so those scheming Nobles would not swindle away the Duchy's wealth.
Before the banquet began, Girardi asked Annan quietly, "Is our alliance still in effect?"
"Unless someone wants to hand his soul to a devil."
Relieved, Girardi no longer had to worry about becoming Annan's puppet. He even wanted to move the capital to Watchhold to enjoy Annan's protection.
At the banquet, the Nobles of the Duchy surrounded Girardi, while their wives and daughters surrounded Annan.
Amid perfume and admiration, Annan recounted the course of the war. At one point, he saw Idelia appear upstairs, pushing her wheelchair.
Annan changed tack. "How could the Mad Dog Duke hurt his own sister like that? A sister should be cherished!"
"Do you like