Reincarnated as the third son of the Duke

138 A Throne Without a Ruler

The Grand Duke hesitated briefly, then fixed William with a firm gaze.

"The North has always been a land of warriors, deeply insular and distrustful of outsiders. No matter how closely you are related by blood, you were not born and raised there. They will never fully accept you."

"..."

"Not only Count Calix, but even those who once revered the House of Duke Grimaldi will put you to the test. And those trials will not be easy."

William recalled his previous life.

There had been mercenaries from the North among his old comrades, and they had barely spoken to anyone outside their own circles.

No matter what task they were given, they simply carried it out in silence, accepted their reward, and moved on.

Some mercenaries had admired them for their quiet diligence, calling them the 'stoic warriors of the North.'

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But that had been a complete misunderstanding.

The people of the North were not naturally reserved.

They simply refused to open up to anyone who had not earned their trust.

Once they did accept someone, however, they became the most talkative of all, their long-held silence exploding into endless conversation.

'Those who called them stoic warriors never even realized they'd been excluded.'

William swallowed down a bitter chuckle.

The Grand Duke spoke again, his tone more serious than before.

"To be frank, His Majesty hopes you will go to the North and nullify Count Calix's claim. He believes you can bring peace to the Empire."

"That is far more credit than I deserve."

"But I will leave the choice to you. No matter what His Majesty wishes, I will not force you into this."

There was no disguising the concern etched into the Grand Duke's face.

He was not speaking as a ruler now, but as a father.

"Count Calix has stolen what is rightfully yours. However, the inheritance in question is ambiguous at best—something you might never even have used in your lifetime. In contrast, the North is a harsh, brutal land with an unyielding culture. And most of all…"

"The name of the House of Grand Duke Hern holds no sway there."

William spoke before the Grand Duke could finish.

He already knew what his father was worried about.

"The people of the North have lived among themselves for generations. Their ties to the Imperial family are weak, and they will not acknowledge anyone—no matter who they are—unless they prove themselves."

As the Grand Duke had pointed out, even William would not be exempt from their trials.

In fact, his Grimaldi bloodline might make them even harsher.

If he carried noble lineage, they would want to see if he truly deserved it.

'And even if I pass their tests, that would only be the beginning. I'd have to challenge Count Calix and his supporters in a battle of legitimacy immediately afterward.'

In other words, he would be stepping onto enemy ground alone, without any support from his family's power.

Even if the Calix household was merely a count's domain, it had been rooted in the North since the time of the old kingdom. Its influence likely rivaled that of a border margrave.

William would be fighting an uphill battle with nothing but his own strength.

"Even so, I want to go."

The Grand Duke frowned. "Why? You know how difficult this will be."

William met his father's gaze, his expression unwavering.

"Because they dared to take what was mine."

There was no pretense, no empty rhetoric about duty or loyalty—only raw conviction.

"It belonged to me. Even if it would have sat untouched in a vault for the rest of my life, it was mine alone. But they took it without my permission, without even a moment of hesitation, and now they flaunt it as if it always belonged to them."

"..."

"I ask you, Father—can a lion still be called a lion if it lets another steal its prey without a fight?"

The name of Grimaldi was an uncertain legacy.

Perhaps it would be of great use, or perhaps he would never even think of it again.

But either way, the right to claim it was his.

Count Calix had known this—and yet, he had disregarded William entirely and taken it for himself.

"I am not kind enough to simply smile and walk away while someone else parades around with what is rightfully mine."

"Hah!"

The Grand Duke burst into laughter.

Chuckling for a long while, he eventually stroked his beard with a satisfied smile.

"Well said. You cannot let a thief hold his head high while strutting about with stolen goods. Do as you wish."

"Thank you."

"When do you plan to leave? Not immediately, I assume."

"In a week. I need time to prepare."

"Understood. But before you depart, attend the family meeting."

William's eyes narrowed.

A family meeting—something only held for matters of the utmost importance.

Sensing his question, the Grand Duke answered.

"His Majesty intends to reassemble the allied forces."

"...!"

Silence.

A heavy, oppressive weight hung over the family meeting.

In previous gatherings, unspoken tensions had at least simmered beneath the surface, but this time, even those faint traces of restraint had vanished.

There was no room for petty disputes or veiled glances—only unease.

With all eyes on him, the Grand Duke finally broke the silence.

"His Majesty has ordered the reassembly of the allied forces."

A sharp intake of breath followed.

"This time, he intends to put an end to Krefeld's rebellion once and for all. Naturally, I will be joining the campaign myself."

The Grand Accord had been broken.

No one could predict what the enemy might attempt, which meant it was no longer a matter that could be left to a mere representative. The Grand Duke's personal presence was inevitable.

But the true matter at hand wasn't just his departure—it was what came after.

"And during your absence, who will act as the family's regent?"

Veronica, Tristan's mother, pressed a delicate fan against her lips, her face noticeably tense.

It was a difficult question to ask, but in a battlefield where old agreements no longer held weight, there was no guarantee the Grand Duke would return safely.

Depending on how events unfolded, whoever was chosen as the acting lord in his stead could very well end up as his permanent successor.

"Before we decide that," the Grand Duke continued, "there is something else I must address. I intend to take one of my sons with me as my adjutant."