Chapter 456: Side Story: The White Dragon – Part 5

A drop of blood trickled from his neck. Only then did Wolfgar seem to grasp the gravity of the situation, and the smile vanished from his face. He backed himself into the wall, his voice cracking as he said, “You think you’ll get away with this? Threatening a noble with a weapon will have you hanging from the gallows!”

“But before that, your useless body will serve as fertilizer,” Riftan replied softly, then glanced toward the rose-strewn garden.

The blood drained from Wolfgar’s face. He yelled sharply toward his brother, who was standing stiffly behind them. “Don’t just stand there! Go fetch the guards before—”

“Quiet.” Riftan pressed the dagger into Wolfgar’s skin, just below the chin. “I said I’m here to talk. Keep shouting, and I’ll have no choice but to end this now. Is that what you want?”

Wolfgar stiffened and slowly shook his head. Only then did Riftan pull his dagger back slightly.

When Wolfgar was certain the blade was at a safe distance, he ventured, “What do you want from me?”

“You publicly insulted the man I serve, then left as if it were nothing. That is unacceptable to me.” Riftan’s voice was low and menacing. “You will return to the banquet hall after we are done here. You will bow low before Evan Triton and apologize in a respectful manner about your earlier actions.”

“You can’t seriously expect me to do that,” Wolfgar scoffed in disbelief.

Riftan leaned in, his tone dangerously soft. “Look at me. You should be afraid. As you say, I am an animal capable of all manner of atrocious things — things you could never even imagine — without blinking an eye.” He growled like a lion baring its teeth. “Evan Triton is magnanimous enough to forgive even filth like you. I am not so forgiving. When I’m angered, I act, and in the cruelest way possible.”

Whatever it was Wolfgar saw in Riftan’s eyes, it was enough to make him turn ghostly pale.

Riftan shoved the nobleman away and nodded arrogantly toward the hall with his chin. “If you understand, you’ll seek his forgiveness. Now go.”

“You vile, wretched scum!” Wolfgar roared as he broke free, drawing his sword. “You think you can threaten me? You’re as good as dead! Tomorrow will not be a knighting, it will be your execution!”

“We’ll see who ends up at the gallows,” Riftan intoned, approaching slowly.

Wolfgar, who had seemed ready to brandish his sword, flinched and took a step back. “What do you mean by that?”

“Do you really think King Reuben is unaware of what the Marquis of Ardenbrook is scheming behind his back?”

Ursuline caught the intense fear that flashed across Wolfgar’s face before it vanished.

“I know nothing of such nonsense!” Wolfgar bellowed as if to hide his emotions.

“Allow me to explain. His Majesty knows that your grandfather is manipulating silver, and that he has been manufacturing large amounts of derham to fund the opposition’s forces.”

Ursuline gasped.

Tensing, Wolfgar glared at Riftan suspiciously. “I trust you have the evidence if you’re bold enough to besmirch the name of a marquis.”

“Unfortunately, there is no physical evidence. The marquis is a truly meticulous man in that regard. He covered up his tracks well.”

A satisfied smile played on Wolfgar’s lips. “Then you won’t have the mercy of a clean death. You shall also be punished for slandering my grandfather. Your limbs will be torn—”

“But your tracks are there.”

Wolfgar stopped his giddy rambling and clenched his jaw.

Riftan continued calmly, “Did the marquis say he would give you his title? You went above and beyond to do his bidding as if he owned you, Wolfgar Ricaydo. The more I investigated this matter, the more I saw of your name, and your name only.”

When Wolfgar was unable to reply, Riftan added, “Here’s a piece of advice for you. The marquis has absolutely no intention of making a Ricaydo his heir. He’s simply taking advantage of his stupid, naïve grandson for his own gains. The more you go running around for him, the more you risk your family and that worthless life of yours.”

“W-What evidence…”

“Go ask King Reuben for the evidence. I’ve already passed it on to him. A while ago, in fact.” Riftan patted Wolfgar’s pale cheek. “His Majesty is merely being gracious by overlooking your little games for your father’s sake.”

Wolfgar staggered back. It was the first time Ursuline had witnessed his arrogant brother so intimidated.

Rubbing salt in the wound, Riftan added, “Let me give you one last piece of advice. If you wish to keep your little seat as heir, you’d better start playing nice. Because His Majesty seems to want the other Ricaydo as the next count.”

Riftan glanced at Ursuline, who was standing awkwardly to one side of the hallway. Wolfgar narrowed his bloodshot eyes at his brother.

As the elder Ricaydo stood there, trembling, Riftan whispered in his ear, “Do you understand now? What are you waiting for? Go beg.”

Wolfgar whisked around and set off for the banquet hall. Riftan gazed after him for a while before he sheathed his dagger and turned toward the gardens.

Ursuline, who had been standing in a daze as if in a trance, jolted awake and grabbed Riftan’s arm. “What you said just now… Is it true?”

“Go ask your brother.” Riftan coldly swatted his hand away.

Ursuline bit his lip. “Even if it is… I could never become the next count. My father will surely sweep everything under the rug to protect my brother and—”

“Does it look like I care about your family’s business?” Riftan said coldly. “It doesn’t matter to me who becomes the next Count Ricaydo. I was merely trying to make that pea-brained brother of yours pay for running his mouth.”

Riftan put his foot over the railing, preparing to climb over the fence. He appeared utterly disinterested in the young noble.

Something stirred within Ursuline then, and he impulsively grabbed Riftan by the collar. “Wolfgar will do all he can to try to get rid of me now. That is on you! How could you be so irresponsible when it was you who—”

“Let go,” Riftan growled.

Ursuline flinched.

As Riftan peeled Ursuline’s hands from his collar and straightened his tunic, he said, “Thanks to me, you now know Wolfgar Ricaydo’s biggest and most fatal weakness. Instead of whining, think of how you can use what you’ve learned.”

“What could I possibly…”

A look of annoyance crossed Riftan’s face, as if he was accusing Ursuline of wanting to be spoon-fed. Ursuline flushed red.

Riftan sighed, his voice softening. “If I were you, I would enlist King Reuben’s help. Use what you learned today to pressure your father. There are countless ways for you to replace your brother as heir before he kills you.”

When Ursuline remained silent, Riftan added, “I believe I’ve said enough.” He then stormed off.

Ursuline glanced around, but the man had already disappeared. He clenched his fists. For some reason, he was shaking all over. He felt utterly helpless, as if the world around him was crumbling.

***

The next day, Wolfgar Ricaydo and his men left the palace in haste before dawn.

With his wayward eldest son now gone, the count seemed to feel much more at ease. He summoned Ursuline early that morning.

“Wolfgar must finally be showing some sense. Yesterday, he apologized to Lord Triton in front of the nobles for speaking in such a disrespectful manner,” Count Ricaydo told his youngest son, beaming.

Ursuline stared at his father’s face. Normally, he would have been disappointed to see such futile hope sparkling in his eyes, but today, he felt nothing.

He thought back to what Riftan Calypse had said the previous night: his brother had committed treason, and King Reuben was in possession of incriminating evidence. Should the king choose, he had every right to send Wolfgar Ricaydo to the gallows whenever he pleased. Perhaps now, persuading his father to remove Wolfgar as heir for the sake of their family’s honor would not be too difficult.

But is that truly what I want?

Confused, Ursuline frowned. He had always wanted to be freed from Wolfgar’s influence, but he had never once aspired to be a count.

“Well, in any case, we should get ready to attend the knighting ceremony. I intend to have you stand with me today.”

His father’s excited voice jolted Ursuline out of his thoughts. As soon as the count snapped his fingers, servants brought in crates of lavish garments and adornments. On any other occasion, Ursuline would have been unwilling, but he obediently donned the attire as per his father’s instructions. His attention was so focused on last night’s shocking revelation that he had little energy for anything else.

“You look striking. I am blessed to be gifted with such a handsome son in my later years.”

The count looked proudly at Ursuline before picking up his coat. He soon left the room and set off for the cathedral at the northernmost corner of the palace. Ursuline followed his father through the long arcade lined with white pillars and across the vast gardens.

Moments later, a looming bell tower and a grand arched entrance appeared. Ursuline stepped cautiously inside. On either side of the aisle leading up to the altar were lines of almost a hundred witnesses — nobles dressed in their finest garments, the knights escorting them, and priests wearing white robes.

It seemed the rumors that the king was particularly fond of Riftan Calypse were true. Even sons of the most renowned families could not have gathered so many witnesses. The count, too, appeared taken aback at the unexpected number of guests. After a moment’s hesitation, he regained his composure and settled into the front row of the box pew next to the aisle. Ursuline followed and was able to get a better view of King Reuben III, who was sitting on the other side of the altar.

The ruler of Wedon wore a golden crown of rubies and diamonds over his flaxen hair and a red velvet mantle over his shoulders. He appeared more youthful and dignified than ever.

He rose from his seat and proclaimed in a resounding voice, “With all concerned parties present, let us commence the ceremony.”