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YEAH, I didn’t think things would go so smoothly, Lucas thought. After he parted ways with Iris, he wasn’t led to the drawing room. Marquess Diascia’s servants drew their guns and pointed them at the baron, who had no choice but to raise his hands in surrender. All the while, he was thinking about the safety of those dear to him. Cano will protect Iris no matter what. Who else is in danger…
“Thinking about other matters while you’re facing me, Lucas Stock?” Marquess Diascia asked calmly. He was annoyingly graceful as he brushed his bangs back with a smile. “Unlike you, I don’t like to be so rough. I’d like to end this matter peacefully.”
And you think this is being peaceful? Lucas couldn’t help but crack a wry smile. “I thought you’d drug our food or something, but I suppose I was wrong. I enjoyed our meal tonight. It was delicious.”
“But of course. There’s no need for me to drug you. A meticulous plan is wasted on a man such as yourself.”
As Lucas kept his hands in the air, a servant patted him down to check for any weapons. Once the servant found that Lucas was unarmed, he pushed the baron to the ground and forced him to kneel.
“I’ll be frank with you, Lucas Stock,” the marquess said, smacking his gun against the baron’s cheek and forcing him to look up. The marquess remained expressionless and difficult to read as he gazed down at the younger man. “You are to become my adopted child and marry the girl from the Bearbrooks Trading Company.”
The rival trading company was a powerful force within the faction of the first prince. Lucas snorted at the suggestion.
“Come now, can’t you see my wedding ring?” Lucas taunted, flaunting his ring.
One of the servants tried to rip the accessory off his finger but failed to do so. The baron’s shoulders shook with his laughter.
“Sorry, but my joints are kinda large, so you can never pry this ring from me. I suppose I’m just a touch different from you nobles and civil officers. Is that lady from Bearbrooks so forgiving that she’d accept a once-married man?” Lucas paused and eyed the higher-ranked nobleman. “Why are you suddenly trying to take me in? You guys value the blood of nobles so highly. I should be a nuisance, no?”
The first prince’s faction sought to maintain the pure bloodlines of the nobility. They aimed to usurp power from the king and the third prince, who supported His Majesty from the sidelines, because they valued new aristocrats. Surely, the first prince and his supporters wanted Lucas Stock to disappear. And indeed, he had almost been killed numerous times in the past.
“For the same reason you tried to reach out to us,” the marquess replied. “When you met me under the guise of wanting to discuss expanding the railroad, I realized the truth and started to investigate on my own. You’re my father’s younger sister’s son.”
“So that makes us cousins,” Lucas replied.
The marquess snapped his fingers. A servant rushed out and respectfully brought in a painting. “And I know why you acted so interested in paintings,” he said. “Allow me to show you.”
He removed the velour cloth, revealing a vibrant family painting to Lucas. It depicted the former marquess and his wife, along with their sons. A bit to the left was a lady with reddish-brown hair flashing a smile. She had the same habit of drooping her eyebrows ever so slightly when she smiled, and the shape of her fingers bore a striking resemblance to her son’s.
“Mom…” Lucas murmured.
The memories of his mother had gradually faded over time, but they quickly resurfaced brilliantly. She was much older and wore different clothes than the painting, but this lady was undoubtedly his mother.
The marquess crouched down in front of Lucas. “We’d also given up on grasping the whereabouts of my missing aunt. But when we spoke at the ceremony commemorating the railroad, I remembered an unpleasant bit of information. My aunt had eloped with a foreign man with canary-yellow hair.” He violently grabbed Lucas’s hair. Lucas had to suppress the hiss of pain.
Don’t be jealous of my hair, Lucas internally spat as he glared at the man.
“I see now,” Lucas said. “My mother was a blemish on your history, for she eloped with a foreign man. You lot didn’t care if she ended up dead on the streets, and I wasn’t worthy of your attention, so I slipped between the cracks. But when we met and spoke, it triggered your memories, and you did some investigating. You figured out that you had a convenient nephew of the previous marquess on your hands and decided to use me as a pawn.”
“Heed your insolent words,” the marquess spat.
“Looks like you’ve got some financial troubles, my dear cousin. Though I’m not sure just how fatal a blow it was to the first prince when the misdeeds of House Streltsy came to light.”
The marquess was silent, but he grabbed one of his servant’s guns and clocked it against Lucas’s head. The baron grimaced as he felt warm blood trickle down and drip onto the floor.
The marquess glared at Lucas with bloodshot eyes and growled, “She may have had her virginity violently stolen by a ruffian and had to conceive a child against her will, but you still carry the blood of House Diascia within your veins. If you agree to be a pawn of this political marriage, I’ll spare your company and the life of your wife. Bearbrooks will take over your company.”
“Wait,” Lucas rumbled. “Are you insinuating that she was sexually assaulted?”
The marquess grinned at Lucas’s glare. “Who can prove that she wasn’t?”
“I can. My mother told me so.”
“Well, but of course. Had she not deluded herself into thinking so, she couldn’t have clung onto life.”
Lucas’s hair was released from Marquess Diascia’s grip as he pushed the baron onto the floor again.
The higher-ranking noble turned his back to the baron, his exaggerated attitude almost theatrical as he continued, “I’ve heard that my aunt was involved in charity and social events. Your father took advantage of her kindness and ensnared her, leading her into a life of ruin. In hopes of creating a space for her, she was allowed to stay at the convent where you were born, clearly taking after your father. She was encouraged to kill the child, but even if her child was the son of a devil, her religion prevented her from doing so. Thus, she left the convent and pathetically died on the streets.”
“You’ve only heard rumors, yet I can’t believe how arrogantly you can speak of my mother,” Lucas spat. He felt sick to his stomach; it felt like the life of his kind mother was being defiled.
He knew he was walking into his enemy’s trap, but he couldn’t stop his hands from trembling with the rage bubbling up in him. Lucas looked up at the painting again. From within the frame, an innocent young lady in a neat dress smiled back at him. Years later, she would turn thin and frail, suffering from an ailment until her final moments.
Was she better off never meeting his father? Could she have lived her life happily had Lucas never been born?
No. His mother had given him life, and that was all the answers that he needed.
“If only you weren’t born, Lucas Stock,” Marquess Diascia hissed, his footsteps approaching the baron. He grabbed Lucas’s hair once more, forcing him to face up. The marquess’s face was twisted with contempt and disdain as though he was about to spit on him at any moment. Only harsh criticism left the marquess’s lips. “That wretched yellow hair and your disgusting eyes colored like the sunset… Your frame is much larger, unlike the rest of our family. There’s no doubt that you possess the blood of a horrible man who defiled your mother and led her to ruin.”
The pure loathing and abhorrence the marquess held for Lucas Stock was crystal clear. He spat, his face contorted like he was about to snap at any moment.