The Mad Dog of the Duke's Estate-Chapter 135

Leon lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling. That ceiling had always felt suffocating, but today, it seemed to press down on her, making it hard to breathe.

"My lady, perhaps you should eat a little something," a maid said cautiously outside the door.

Leon exhaled softly, her voice quiet as she replied, "...I'm fine."

"Master Dales is very worried about you. If you continue to skip meals—" the maid began, but was cut off.

"If he was truly worried about me, he wouldn't have done such a thing. I'm fine, really. You can go. I'd like to be alone... Just leave me be," Leon interrupted.

"Understood, my lady. If you need anything, please call me at any time," the maid said. Her footsteps soon faded into the distance, leaving the room in silence once more.

Leon let out a sigh as her father's words from the previous night replayed in her mind.

"This is a great opportunity for you. With our influence, we'll place the Sixth Prince on the throne, and you will become the Empress. So, do as I say without any complaints."

Her father was always like that—seeing his children not as children, but as tools. His cold, calculating gaze never wavered.

Dales was a man who had lived his entire life striving to become the head of the house. Leon couldn't say she didn't understand his ambitions. As the eldest son of the Duke of Leston, such aspirations had been inevitable.

But this matter was different. Marrying into the imperial family meant she would have to let go of her dreams.

"All this effort... for nothing," she murmured to herself.

For the daughters of noble houses, arranged marriages were a common fate. It wasn't unique to the Ducal Family of Leston; it was an expectation for aristocratic families everywhere. It was the price of privilege, a destiny to be accepted for the sake of the family's future.

"I don't like this," she whispered, her voice firm yet small.

Her gaze shifted to the sword resting by her bedside—Dius. It was the cherished blade that had been with her ever since her initiation. If she married into the imperial family, tradition dictated that she would have to return her sword and have her accumulated mana sealed.

That was a custom that had endured for generations.

I wanted to be like Lady Sabina... Leon thought.

Her thoughts turned to her great-aunt Sabina, who had lived her life as an unmarried knight, wholly dedicated to perfecting her swordsmanship.

Sabina's life was the path Leon had longed to follow—a knight's life devoted solely to the pursuit of mastery. She wondered if her wish to live such a life was nothing more than selfish greed.

Leon knew her father wouldn't be swayed by her arguments. He had never been one to listen to his children in the first place.

That was why she envied Caron. His parents always listened to him.

Just as Leon lay on her bed, staring at the suffocating ceiling, a knock came at her door. "I said I want to be alone," she called out, irritation creeping into her voice.

But the voice that came from the other side of the door wasn't her maid's.

"Leon, open the door quickly before someone sees me. I snuck in here," came a playful voice filled with mischief. There was no mistaking its owner—it was Caron.

Leon sighed, reluctantly pushing herself off the bed. She trudged to the door and opened it halfway.

And in an instant—

"Woah, what's this?" Leon exclaimed.

Three men swiftly slipped into her room.

"What are you all doing here this early in the morning—" Leon began.

"It's been ages since I last set foot in your room. How have you been, Leon?" Hugo asked, following closely behind Caron.

"Did you sleep well, Leon?" Leo added, grinning as he entered.

The other men who had entered her room were none other than Hugo and Leo. Leon blinked in surprise, unable to mask her bewilderment at the sudden appearance of her cousins.

Caron, however, simply grinned while closing the door behind him. With a flick of his wrist, he summoned Pluto.

Meow.

A dark mist oozed from Pluto and seeped into the cracks of the door.

"Perfect. Now, no sound will get out," Caron said with satisfaction. He reached into his coat and pulled out a bottle filled with golden liquid.

"I figured you might be bored all alone, so we came to keep you company. And look—this is a bottle of Kilroan, aged twenty-three years. I swiped it from Sir Zerath's room four years ago. It's a fine vintage, one I'd been saving for a special occasion. I thought tonight we could all share a drink," Caron explained.

He set the bottle on the table and glanced around the room.

Leon's quarters were bare, devoid of any decoration or luxury. Aside from the shelves crammed with swordsmanship manuals, there was little else in the way of furniture. It was a stark reminder of the kind of life she had lived.

"Today's a special day, don't you think?" Caron asked cheerfully.

"...And what's so special about it?" Leon asked, her tone skeptical.

"Because the scattered cousins are finally together in one place. That makes it a great day. Now, come on, everyone, have a seat!" Caron said.

Caron's infectious grin seemed to ease the tension in the room. Leon allowed herself a faint smile as she slowly sank into a chair. Following her lead, Hugo and Leo dragged over chairs and sat down.

"Hugo... You look well," Leon said softly, glancing at Hugo.

She had heard rumors about the severe aftereffects he'd suffered after recklessly pushing through 7-Star. Yet, looking at him now, he appeared healthier than ever—too healthy for someone supposedly recovering from such a taxing ordeal.

"Caron, did you...?" Leon asked.

"Yes," Caron said with a mischievous smirk. "I gave him the Dew of the World Tree. He downed it all in one go. I almost didn't get to keep the last drop!"

"Ahem, Caron, stop exaggerating," Hugo said, clearing his throat.

"Hugo, you need to pay the price," Caron said.

Hugo raised an eyebrow and replied, "You said it was a gift."

"It was. But, as any noble knows, every gift comes with strings attached," Caron answered matter-of-factly. "Honestly, Hugo, at your age, not knowing such basics—what will people think of you?"

"How old are you?" Hugo asked, his voice tinged with mock exasperation.

"Maybe it's because you've turned thirty now, but you're starting to reek of being an old-timer... Whoo—" Caron said.

"I should pay Uncle Fayle a visit," Hugo interrupted.

"Then Father will cheer and encourage you. Do you think Father can stop me?" Caron shot back.

Leon chuckled at the sight of Hugo, usually so composed, rendered utterly powerless against Caron's relentless banter.

A soft laugh escaped her lips. "Pfft."

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For the first time in what felt like ages, the heavy weight on her chest lifted, even if only a little.

At Leon's laughter, the other three exchanged glances and grinned widely.

"Alright, everyone, let's have a drink," Caron declared, popping the cork from the bottle with a casual flick. He poured the golden liquid into their empty glasses. Raising his own glass first, he added, "You know, I think this might be the first time the four of us are drinking together. Now, if I may make a toast—"

"Cheers," Leon interrupted, cutting him off. She clinked her glass against the others with a confident ring. Without hesitation, she downed the whiskey in one smooth gulp. A fiery heat coursed down her throat, leaving a trail of warmth behind.

"Haa," she exhaled, a satisfied smile spreading across her face. Turning her gaze toward Caron, she tilted her empty glass slightly then asked, "Another glass?"

"Wow, Leon. You can really hold your liquor," Caron said, grinning as he dutifully refilled her glass.

Hugo and Leo exchanged amused glances before raising their own glasses to join in.

For a while, the four cousins sat together, trading jests and stories, steadily emptying the bottle. Time passed unnoticed, laughter and camaraderie filling the once-quiet room.

Then, Leon's voice broke through the mirth. "You're all here because of my marriage, aren't you?"

Her face, faintly flushed from the alcohol, carried an edge of melancholy she tried to mask with a faint smile. "At least I didn't live in vain. I've got people who care enough to be here."

"Leon," Hugo said gently. "You can be honest. If you don't want this marriage—"

"Of course I don't want it," Leon cut him off, downing another glass of whiskey before setting it down with a thud. Her face darkened, frustration and defiance bleeding into her voice. "Why should I give up my sword and join the imperial family? And Prince Revelio? He's not even my type. He looks like he can barely stand up straight!"

"Ha! That's our Leon—sharp as ever," Caron quipped, smirking.

"More than that," Leon continued, ignoring the interruption, "If I go to the palace, I won't even be allowed to wield my sword. I'd be nothing more than a decorative flower. I'd rather take a blade to the gut than live like that."

Her words, laced with raw honesty, struck a chord. They weren't just complaints; they carried true weight. Leon's cheeks reddened further, not merely from drink.

"So, Leon," Caron said, leaning back casually, "What you're saying is you don't want to get married?"

"Of course not," Leon muttered, her gaze fixed on her empty glass. "But it doesn't matter. Father won't change his mind. You know how he is, Hugo. Stubborn as a stone wall."

"...That's right," Hugo admitted with a bitter chuckle, tilting his own glass. His face was just as flushed, though his tone remained steady. "Caron, you might not know him too well, but Leon's right. Father doesn't backtrack on his decisions."

However, Caron simply smiled, an unmistakable glint of mischief in his eyes. He said, "Maybe, but you never know. I've got a good plan."

"A plan?" Leon repeated, turning to him with a skeptical frown.

Caron didn't answer immediately. Instead, he stood up and rummaged through his coat. A moment later, he placed three more bottles of whiskey on the table with a resounding thud.

"Let's hear it after we finish these," he said, smirking. "Day drinking is good for you. One bottle each, how about that?"

"Who said it was good?" Leo asked, raising an eyebrow.

Caron grinned and replied, "My personal experience."

"That's... not reassuring at all," Leo muttered.

"Come on, grab another drink!" Caron said, raising his glass high.

He wasn't just stalling, however. Caron had a plan—and a grand one, at that.

***

After four hours of drinking in Leon's room, well past lunchtime, they found themselves stumbling into an entirely unexpected destination under Caron's mischievous guidance. The scent of alcohol clung heavily to them, turning heads and eliciting shocked whispers from the staff working within Azureocean Castle. Startled by their disheveled state, the onlookers quickly stepped aside to avoid the group.

Caron, leading the group, finally stopped in front of a particular door. A nameplate affixed to it caught Leo's attention, prompting an involuntary hiccup.

The plaque read:

—Dales Leston

This was none other than the office of the firstborn son, Dales Leston.

Caron's face lit up with a satisfied grin as he turned to Leon. "Here we are, Leon. Now's your chance to let it all out. I checked earlier—Uncle Dales is definitely inside."

Leon, her eyes half-glazed from the whiskey, said hesitantly, "If I go in looking like this, I'll get scolded."

"That's the point," Caron said with a grin. "Do whatever you feel like. Uncle Dales has been pushing your marriage plans without your consent, so it's only fair you push back however you want."

An eye for an eye. It was simple logic.

Leon chuckled dryly, nodding. The faintest glimmer of defiance flickered in her expression.

Meanwhile, Hugo, who had been silently staring at the nameplate, glanced down at Caron with a mixture of disbelief and resignation. "...So this is your grand plan?"

"In technical terms," Caron replied smugly, "It's called causing a scene."

"This will never—" Hugo began, but his words were drowned out by a thunderous pounding.

Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang!

Leon had begun hammering on Dales' office door with the fervor of a woman on a mission. She shouted, "Father! Father! It's me, your daughter, Leon!"

From inside, there was movement—a deliberate, ominous sound of footsteps approaching the door. Each step carried the weight of barely contained fury.

Suddenly, the door flew open. Standing there was Dales Leston, his face a mask of controlled rage, the kind that could curdle blood. His crimson cheeks betrayed either anger or the sudden shock of the situation. Dressed impeccably in a tailored suit, his neatly trimmed beard and glasses gave him an air of exacting precision.

"What in the name of the heavens is this madness?!" he bellowed, his sharp gaze sweeping over the group.

Dales' eyes narrowed as he took in the drunken figures of Hugo, Leon, and Leo. His scowl deepened as his gaze finally landed on the youngest—and perhaps the most insolent—of the lot, Caron. The overpowering stench of alcohol radiating from them made his teeth grind audibly.

"Stumbling around drunk in the middle of the day! And you call yourselves direct descendants of the ducal house? What must the lower ones think of this disgrace—"

"Better than selling off your daughter to secure your position!" Leon's voice cut through his tirade like a blade.

The words hit the room like a thunderclap. Hugo and Leo froze, their expressions turning stone cold. Whatever intoxication lingered in their systems evaporated instantly.

Caron, however, was utterly unfazed. If anything, he appeared delighted.

Clap, clap, clap.

Caron burst into applause, a wide grin splitting his face. "Bravo, Leon! You really told him! Look at that old man's face—priceless. Whew, I need another drink. This is getting good."

Even as he slurred his words slightly, Caron's smugness was palpable.

We're dead, Leo thought as he felt an impending sense of doom descend upon him.

Moments later, Dales' voice thundered across Azureocean Castle.

"You wreeeeetch!"