“Diego, it’s been a while.”

In the man’s eyes, Diego could sense more tension than joy. Diego stared into the restless eyes of the man for a moment, carefully exploring the dilated pupils and burst blood vessels in the whites of his eyes. Finally, Diego opened his mouth and spoke.

“I see. You missed the funeral, so I didn’t think I’d see you in the near future.”

The man looked quite taken aback by the comment. The man sitting across from him was Diego’s maternal uncle, Viscount Botry, brother of the current Marquis of Botry, and the hidden traitor Estella had told him about not long ago. It didn’t take Diego long to figure out why his uncle had betrayed him. If he paid attention, he could easily see that Viscount Botry was in a state that made it difficult for him to maintain a normal life.

Unlike the carefully concealed malice he swallowed down, drugs were one of the few visible signs of his downfall. Viscount Boltry, driven by curiosity, had dabbled in drugs just as he had ventured into the gambling dens. The source of the substances was the prostitute he often had by his side. This woman, who had no intention of letting go of lucrative clients, was notorious for providing exceptionally dangerous narcotics.

Just as the lust of men towards prostitutes was temporary, so too was the act of prostitutes using men. Once they had clawed away their wealth, the fate of the discarded men was of no concern to them.

Some might pity Franzel for ruining his life by falling for a woman, but Diego wasn’t about to forgive his uncle for jumping to such an easy conclusion. As with everyone, life doesn’t always play out on a straight path, and it was his own choice to fall into the trap of debauchery.

“As you know, it’s not quite appropriate for someone from our family to attend such an event. Especially with the new Duchess in town…”

Franzel coughed incoherently, unable to finish his sentence. He was too embarrassed to meet Diego’s straight gaze.

“Hmph, anyway. I came here to tell you something else.”

“Go ahead.”

“Rumor has it that you have detained the Duchess in the annex.”

“Indeed.”

Diego replied grimly. Fritzel finally looked embarrassed. Diego’s response had been too casual. Franzel tried to sound as adult as possible.

“I think you need to explain.”

“No need to. It’s all true.”

Diego smirked and leaned his temples against the back of his hand. A bad attitude on the other side meant trouble in negotiations. Eventually, Franzel pulled a handkerchief from within his bosom. He folded it and wiped his oily forehead.

“The eyes of the world are upon you. People will think ill of you if you treat the Duchess of Berta this badly so soon after the Duke’s death. Such extreme measures are not good for you either.”

“You have only half heard the rumors. Do you know why the woman is confined to the annex?”

“Yes, I have heard. When you raise children, you have to spank them to some extent, otherwise how else would you teach them.”

Diego was silent for a moment. Then he spoke in an unemotional voice.

“The child cried.”

“Well, children often cry for no particular reason. They can get startled easily by trivial things.”

“That’s true. Cecilia was so startled that she even swung her fist at the Duchess.”

Franzel’s eyes widened at Diego’s words. A child throwing a punch at a parent was unheard of and unheard of. With a sigh, Franzel muttered under their breath,

“Is that true?”

“Upon witnessing our family tutor being disciplined by her mother, she intervened and stopped me from doing the same. She tried to strike her mother with those little hands.”

“This is deplorable… Totally wrong.”

As Franzel spoke, he clicked his tongue in frustration.

Tsk!

The sound clawed at something. It was an expected reaction, so Diego wasn’t surprised. Unlike a parent’s spanking, which is often packaged as discipline, a child’s rebellion is considered taboo. Perhaps that’s because conventional wisdom isn’t written from a child’s perspective.

Diego leaned forward, resting his arms on his thighs. Diego’s brow narrowed as he rubbed the corners of his eyes tiredly.

“Uncle, which would have hurt more, a fist from a child or a kick from an adult?”

For a moment, Franzel’s shoulders slumped. He was more surprised by the tone than the content of Diego’s words. He may be twenty years younger than him, but he’s a grown man in his prime. His striking height and well-defined muscles were intimidating, even for someone of his own gender. His nephew’s intimidating demeanor frightened Franzel. In a much smaller voice, he protested.

“Why would you take such a stand if the actions were caused by the tutor’s misbehavior in the first place?”

“The Duchess had been continuously abusing the children and even resorted to violence against the family tutor, who was trying to inform me about these facts and seek help. The extent of her wickedness was unbearable to witness, so I had no choice but to take measures to isolate her.”

Diego replied calmly, then continued with a faint smile.

“I couldn’t stand to watch my siblings’ misery any longer. I’m sure my uncle would understand my feelings.”

There was nothing morally wrong with Diego’s decision. The only problem was that he had no reason to care about the children’s well-being.

After the funeral, the Duchess incessantly lamented the sudden death of the Duke, both day and night. She also praised her son at the funeral, emphasizing how exceptional he was. Her manipulations reached even the palace, causing delays in the succession process as the close advisors of the king, who had a special relationship with the Duchess, recited eulogies. Despite a considerable amount of time passing since the death of Duke Berta, no decree had been issued from the royal court, leaving the royal family in a state of uncertainty.

The presence of the children, so to speak, was faithfully standing in Diego’s way. As far as the world was concerned, Diego was right to stay out of Cedric and Cecilia’s misery.

Franzel hesitated, then asked.

“…Did you show affection to those children?”

“Even half of the blood is better than none.”

“Be careful, those children will eventually become your enemies.”

Although it was wise advice, considering the other party’s intentions, it seemed to be interpreted differently. From Franzel’s perspective, it appeared as if Diego was trying to extract information. Franzel was the man who had sided with Duke and Duchess Berta, assisting in the murder of their nephew under the pretence of a debt. Diego raised an eyebrow and responded with a retort.

“It’s things like this that make me wonder if family means anything at all, doesn’t it, Little Uncle?”

For a moment, Franzel felt a gut-wrenching sense of dread, but he quickly swallowed the uneasy feeling. If Diego had realized his betrayal, he would not have reacted so mildly.

He was fully aware that he was an insignificant figure. He may have been his great-uncle, but his public status and authority dwarfed that of his nephew, Diego. He was the one who could silence Franzel’s presence. There was no way Diego would let a worm slip through his fingers. Franzel made an effort to smile and added as if making an excuse.

“What I can assure you is that I would never do anything to harm you. You are my nephew.”

“Of course, I know.”

Diego nodded approvingly, showing his tolerance. Based on Diego’s reaction, it seemed that he was not aware of Franzel’s collaboration with the late Duke Berta. Initially, there were suspicions that Diego might have been the one who killed Duke Berta, but the revealed culprit and the evidence were too clear to attribute it to Diego.

It was a good thing the secret hadn’t been discovered, but what was happening now wasn’t exactly what Franzel had planned. He had hoped to use his reputation to lift the Duchess’ ban, but Diego’s demeanour was more stubborn than he had expected. Franzel shivered uneasily.

It wasn’t long before Diego spoke again. His tone was nonchalant.

“By the way, I heard a rumor.”

“Uh, what rumor?”

Franzel asked stupidly. Diego gave him a soothing look and replied.

“That my uncle is having some financial difficulties these days.”

It’s easy to see why Franzel, a member of a large family, would be struggling for money. The Marquis of Boltry, who has become aware of his brother’s debauchery, has cut off the flow of funds.

Once you start spending, it’s hard to stop. It’s a tall order just to keep spending the way it is, especially when it involves addictive drugs.

Diego didn’t trust Franzel, but at the same time, he understood his psychology. The reason Franzel was helping Duchess Berta was money. The man who had financed him was dead, and the Duchess would soon have nothing left. Diego figured it wouldn’t hurt to take advantage of a man the Duchess believed was on her side.

“Make yourself at home. I give you this money with no expectation of getting it back.”

Diego pulled a box from the desk beside him as he spoke. Since it was important not to reveal the source of the money, he had prepared it in physical form. From Franzel’s perspective as well, it would be more convenient to handle things in this way.

It was evident where the drug dealer’s money would flow into. Although the thought of directly selling drugs to Franzel crossed Diego’s mind, he stopped at the calculations. While it was a shame to incur significant expenses, there was no need for him to involve himself in dirty deeds. The stench that clung to his hands was enough with the portion of Berta’s share.

Diego said, remembering my father’s last appearance.

“Now that he’s gone, I regret it, too. I wonder why I didn’t think to talk to him more when he was alive…….”

He swallowed hard as he looked at the money held out to Franzel. Diego looked over at her and spoke in a low voice.

“I keep thinking I should have done better, these days.”

Franzel pulled the box toward him, his voice trembling.

“I’m sorry to hear that, but that’s all I can say.”

“I’ll have to get over it. Thank you for the comfort.”

With that, Diego stood up. Franzel hesitantly followed him to his feet. He almost slipped as he lifted the heavy package. Diego caught him and helped him balance herself.

“You have to be careful.”

“Uh, uh……. I will. I will.”

Franzel stared at the glimmer inside the box with a trance-like gaze. Perhaps he was silently calculating the duration he could sustain with those substances.

“If it’s not enough, just let me know. After all, isn’t my uncle like a father to me? Your nephew should take care of your dignity at least.”

Diego concluded his words with an affectionate pat on his little nephew’s back.

“I hope you enjoy yourself just enough not to hurt yourself.”