Omega of the Duke Brothers chapter 72

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Fetchwig’s garden was filled with laughter.

The nobles were in the middle of enjoying a game of pall-mall, a sport where one strikes a ball with a mallet and tries to send it through a hoop — perfect for the lush, wide green lawn.

“Oh, well done! Excellent skill!”

The Duke of Fetchwig, Gordon, shouted in excitement.

The one who had struck the ball so skillfully was his second son.

The younger son, Bellick, bowed politely toward his father, a triumphant smile spread across his young face.

“Show-off.”

Jacob, the eldest son, muttered with clear distaste.

His voice was low but sharp enough for everyone nearby to hear.

Most nobles pretended not to notice.

But the Carlisle brothers, standing close, were not among them.

“My, my.”

Chester spoke to his elder brother in a voice laced with amusement.

“They really can’t hide their sibling rivalry. If my father saw this, he’d explode in anger. He’d accuse them of trying to ruin this grand and lavish party.”

“…Then it would just become a party that’s grand only on the surface.”

“That’s family for you. The closer you are, the easier it is to become the best of friends… or the worst of enemies.”

After speaking, Chester let his eyes wander.

Lace was draped from the trees, bouquets of blooming roses adorned the tables.

Gordon, laughing boisterously, stood out more than anyone else with his flamboyant attire.

His desire to adorn himself extravagantly — in food, clothing, and parties — was obvious.

“Let’s play the part of affectionate brothers, shall we?”

Chester’s voice was warm and coaxing. Isaac silently studied his younger brother’s face.

“Many people want to see us at odds. And no one wishes it more than that old man. ‘Can’t even manage his own sons’ — that’s what they’re dying to say.”

Isaac nodded quietly.

“True. I know they’re whispering that we’ll fall out sooner or later.”

“The only way to disappoint them is to act like we’re getting along. Come, let’s go do something together.”

“…I suppose we must.”

There was a hint of reluctance in Isaac’s murmured reply.

In truth, he wasn’t enjoying the party at all.

He hadn’t come here for entertainment to begin with — only to keep an eye on his political rival.

‘Already bored.’

Then, all at once, Isaac realized something. He had never truly enjoyed these aristocratic amusements.

He only took part out of obligation — to maintain his power, or to show it off.

There had never been any real pleasure in it.

Only the spring ball had been different.

Isaac’s brow twitched as he realized the single reason why: Adam had been there.

‘Yes, Adam. It was fun because you were there.’

The corner of Isaac’s mouth lifted faintly.

He recalled that sunny day when spring flowers were in full bloom, when he’d danced with Adam.

The way Adam’s face had been tense and stiff with nervousness — and yet how his body had moved with unexpected grace — appeared vividly before him. Just picturing it swept away his boredom.

‘Hah.’

Meanwhile, the butler, Harry, was watching the two dukes from a short distance away.

His own son, David, had remained at the castle in his stead, so Harry himself had been accompanying and attending the dukes.

Standing a few steps back, he caught sight of Isaac’s faint smile.

‘What thought could bring that expression to his face?’

What could make a man like that — a duke as immovable as stone — smile?

From childhood, Isaac had rarely smiled at all.

Now, he seemed like a completely different person.

Harry was still watching in quiet amazement when he felt a presence.

A man was approaching him.

Once close enough, the man leaned in and murmured something in his ear.

“What’s going on?”

Chester, sharp-eyed as ever, noticed and asked at once.

One glance at the man’s attire was all it took for Chester to recognize him as someone from His Majesty the Emperor’s retinue.

“Yes, Lord Chester. His Majesty summons you.”

“A summons, is it? Both of us, I presume?”

Harry nodded in confirmation.

The moment the words were spoken, the Carlisle brothers’ relaxed posture shifted.

They straightened their backs and glanced over their attire.

Then they exchanged a look with the stranger, signaling for him to lead the way.

“Well, it’s about time His Majesty called for us. Harry, keep an eye out. See if the Duke of Fetchwig notices.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And watch for what expression he makes when he does.”

Chester curved his scarlet lips into a smile — sweet and soft.

The young ladies nearby widened their eyes in surprise.

He had a talent for drawing attention with nothing but a smile.

“His expression? Predictable. He won’t be able to hide his frustration.”

Walking beside his brother, Isaac spoke calmly.

With his dignified, refined air, he too drew admiration from many onlookers — not that he paid them any mind.

“Of course. Still, I want to see it.”

“…Why?”

“Because it’s fun.”

“You have a twisted sense of humor.”

“And yet, not as twisted as that old man who invited us despite hating us. He’ll try to humiliate us somehow.”

“…Now that’s something I do look forward to. I wonder what tactic he’ll use.”

“Heh. You’re just as twisted, brother. You think very little of the old man.”

“He is ridiculous.”

“That, I agree with.”

The brothers halted only when they reached a large tree.

Beneath it stood the Emperor.

He was lifting his hat toward a group of women.

“Oh.”

They weren’t noble ladies or young aristocratic girls — they were young maids from Fetchwig, of common birth.

And yet the Emperor was showing them the same courtesy as if they were ladies, tipping his hat as they passed.

The maids blushed, bowing hurriedly with an almost overwhelmed expression.

‘Still the same as ever.’

Chester’s smile deepened.

The lord he served — the Emperor — was always kind to people.

His manner toward women was unmatched in elegance and gentleness.

And Chester knew it came not from lechery, but from genuine warmth.

“Your Majesty.”

Chester stepped forward and knelt. Isaac did the same, placing his hand over his chest.

“Your Majesty.”

“Oh, I trust you’ve both been well. Up, both of you. You’ll dirty your clothes kneeling like that.”

The Emperor took each of their hands and pulled them up.

Though he was a young man in his prime, there was an air of composure and strength about him that forbade casual treatment.

He carried a presence that naturally inspired reverence in all who saw him.

“I didn’t expect you two to join in the hunt.”

With that, the Emperor motioned for those nearby to give them privacy.

They bowed slightly and withdrew.

The Emperor’s voice lightened.

“After all, there’s no place less comfortable for the two of you than here, is there?”

“How could you say so, Your Majesty? We were invited — it’s only proper to attend. Besides, it’s a hunt in which you yourself are taking part.”

“Well, I do love a hunt. I enjoy the shooting, and showing off the hounds I’ve raised myself. See over there? Handsome creatures, aren’t they?”

The Emperor gestured toward seven hounds standing in the distance, then turned back to the Carlisle brothers.

“Dukes of Carlisle, the court’s been buzzing with talk about you lately. You’ve heard, I trust? The incident at the spring ball?”

“The younger son of House Sloane behaved disgracefully, yes.”

Isaac, who had been listening silently, finally spoke.

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