Private Tutor to the Duke’s Daughter: Volume 11 [Complete] by Riku Nanano

Author:Riku Nanano
Language: eng
Format: epub

“Carlyle!” I shouted at Marchese Carnien’s back as he walked ahead of me down the secret passage, chatting with Marchese Folonto. The committee had adopted his motion and dispersed.

Carlyle looked back with exasperation. “Forgive me, Fossi,” he said. “Go on without me. All proceeds as planned.”

“Very well.”

Having sent the other marchese on ahead, Carlyle stopped and greeted me with a buffoonish bow. “Donna Rondoiro! To what do I owe this pleasure? I hate to disappoint you, but I doubt I can make time for tea.”

“Be serious!” I snapped, shoving Carlyle against a white stone wall.

“My, how passionate. Unfortunately, I have a lovely wife already and so must decline.”

“Enough! Church inquisitors?! And fighting in the city of water? Are you mad?”

“I’m perfectly sane. Now, would you please unhand me?”

I slowly released Carlyle. In our student days, he had been hailed as a genius. Everyone had expected great things from him. The previous Marchese Carnien would never have invited him to marry into the family otherwise. Someone with his brains had to know how dangerous an alliance with the church’s uncanny inquisitors and apostles could be!

Carlyle straightened his collar under my reproachful glare. “It comes down to choosing the lesser evil,” he said. “If we side with the Leinsters, they’ll eventually take all five northern principalities. The Church of the Holy Spirit, on the other hand, has no interest in territory. Their interests lie in an entirely different direction.”

“That’s no excuse!” I shouted.

Carlyle’s expression changed. He looked like the old Carlyle—the one I’d loved. “A word of advice for old times’ sake,” he whispered in my ear. “Have nothing more to do with me or the church. And leave the city as soon as you can—by next Lightday at the latest. But don’t dream of going home to Rondoiro. If you do...”

You’ll die. No one can vanquish that monster—not even the Lady of the Sword and her Brain.

Carlyle turned on his heel and left before I could question him. He never looked back again.

“What?” I managed at last, standing dazed while a storm raged within me.

Carlyle, what do you want?

“Donna Rondoiro,” a new voice said.

I turned to find a blue-haired young man adjusting his spectacles and looking terribly disgruntled.

“May I have a word with you?” he asked. “About Carlyle.”

“Yes,” I answered slowly. “I was just thinking that I’d like to speak with you too, Don Niche Nitti.”

✽

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