Doug Manor

They arrived in the afternoon. After Tang Feiliu spent some time in the garden, Dan heard his master’s excited and delighted exclamation. The two chatted for a while before the door suddenly swung open. Alexander exclaimed to Dan, "Quick, fetch some food! Tell Gina to make extra milk curds and pinecone candy, and bring some hot milk too..."

Most of these items were readily available in the kitchen, and soon they were brought out in a steady stream. Dan hurried to the kitchen to urge Gina—the eldest daughter who had inherited all of Aunt Tess's recipes—to prepare the milk skin immediately.

Clotted cream was Aunt Tess's specialty and once the favorite dish of the Doug family's second young master. Yet for over a decade afterward, it seemed forbidden, no longer among the Doug household's most important dishes—indeed, it vanished entirely.

The servants never understood why. They only vaguely knew it was connected to the second young master, who was always reading and silent, and to the mysterious nature of the Doug family's masters. No one dared probe into the masters' private affairs; they simply quietly shelved all recipes related to the second young master.

So when Gina heard the dish had been ordered again, she was startled. She hurriedly wiped her apron and said apologetically, "I'll make it right away, but Dan, who is this for?"

"Master Lance! Master Lance is back!" Dan was thrilled too. Thinking of how vibrant his master Alexander looked, he suddenly felt energized, his voice growing louder. "Sir said to prepare all Master Lance's favorite dishes and bring them over. He and the young master are having a wonderful chat right now!"

Tang Feiliu was currently discussing modern life with his brother. Alexander listened in utter disbelief, frozen for half a moment before stammering, "...So you went to an unfamiliar time and space and swapped identities with a child?"

"I know this sounds incredibly strange, but it's true. And because of it, I've learned so many useful things..." Tang Feiliu explained earnestly. He had to make these details clear, for Alexander knew he was the one who had switched places. Alexander was mentally prepared for this, which made his acceptance quicker.

Alexander was indeed stunned for a long moment before he finally murmured, "...Did they treat you well? I mean...that child's parents..."

"Mom and Dad were very kind to me. They were incredibly gentle people... Though they argued constantly, they were deeply devoted to each other..." Tang Feiliu smiled softly, recalling the memories with tenderness. Alexander's expression grew complex as he murmured, "If I'd known it would be like this, I should have been kinder to that child."

Such were the limitations of the era. Two children with amnesia—in modern times, people would find this normal and worthy of sympathy. But in this era, the only information the Temple provided was this: if someone suddenly forgot their experiences and couldn't recount their memories, then that person was a demon disguised as a human, and must be burned alive!

So, strictly speaking, Alexander and his father, Duke Tang, had chosen the best possible outcome for their child's recovery. Locking Lance away and maintaining emotional distance and coldness toward him was still infinitely better than any other result.

Yet this couldn't erase the guilt gnawing at Tang Feiliu's heart. He felt he'd gained so much more, and if given the chance, he truly wanted to repay that kind, gentle child.

"Me too. But he's living happily in the modern world. I saw him with his boyfriend..." Tang Feiliu whispered to his brother, hoping to comfort Alexander, who was momentarily speechless with guilt. Alexander suddenly widened his eyes and exclaimed, "Boyfriend?!"

"Yes... yes... Brother?!" Having relaxed too much in front of family, Tang Feiliu only realized a moment later that people in this era held no favorable views toward homosexuality. He grew flustered, unsure what to say. Unexpectedly, his brother leapt up with a shriek like a squirrel whose tail had been stepped on, suddenly demanding, "Speaking of which, I almost forgot... what on earth happened to all these clothes you're wearing?!"

"...Duke Edward ordered the servants to make them..." Tang Feiliu stared blankly at his brother, whose anger had suddenly reached boiling point, stammering, "What's wrong with that?"

"What's wrong?!" Alexander took a deep breath, finally remembering his brother's most crucial knowledge gap: having grown up in the modern world, he knew nothing of the aristocracy's unspoken rules.

Alexander paced back and forth, taking several deep breaths to suppress his urge to roar. He addressed his brother, who looked utterly bewildered: "...This emblem," Alexander took his brother's hand and showed him the circular serpent-and-thorn crest on the cuff of the little suit jacket. "Is this emblem on every piece of your clothing?"

"Yes." Tang Feiliu stared blankly at his brother, whose veins were bulging, and asked stupidly, "...The Duke said it's the insignia of an administrator, signifying I belong to the Black Duke."

"...It does belong to the Black Duke," Alexander wanted to roar, to rage, but he feared frightening his brother who had finally returned home. Trapped like a caged beast, he lowered his voice. "...Have you seen this emblem on other officials?!"

"...I've seen the emblem, but it looked different..." Tang Feiliu recalled carefully. "The butler and servants have small emblems on their uniforms, but they're simpler... Probably because their positions are different from mine?"

"Is that how you understood it?!" Alexander watched his brother nod, then collapsed onto the sofa chair, veins bulging with rage. He growled, "I should have found you sooner... Damn duke!"

His sudden outburst startled Tang Feiliu. Then, as if finally drained of strength, Alexander continued, "...This is a family crest. It belongs to the Black Duke. It's not a uniform symbol for the servants, but one for family members... Do you know what it signifies?"

Tang Feiliu stared blankly at his brother, then slowly, slowly, it dawned on him. He covered his mouth, his face suddenly flushing bright red as if on fire, his ears practically smoking.

Alexander watched his younger brother's bashful expression with despair. There was not a trace of resistance or fear in it—only sweetness and shyness.

Alexander resigned himself to the truth. Though his brother remained unaware, this affair was certainly not the Black Duke's solo act.

But... looking at his adorable younger brother, pure as a saint, his blue eyes so gentle they seemed to drip with tenderness, radiating an innocent charm... Alexander felt he couldn't bear to watch any longer. He needed to warn these two love-struck fools. His expression turned serious as he said, "Within the Duke's domain, your actions may be inconsequential. The fact that the Duke would act this way shows he's confident in his control. But you must still be wary of the Templars."

"I know the Templars," Tang Feiliu perked up instantly, all shyness forgotten. He whispered, "Are they really powerful? Do they actually burn people alive for loving someone of the same sex?"

Alexander's expression darkened, though not to the point of tension. He ruffled his younger brother's hair and replied slowly, "Yes, they do. But you needn't worry too much..."

The situation with the Templars was similar to that in Europe at the time, though the Nat Empire and its neighboring nations were somewhat different. The entire landscape resembled a period of warlord fragmentation, with Nart among the largest empires. As economies developed, warfare began to diminish. All nations focused their energies on combating famine and economic growth—the dawn of an era of ascent. Tang Feiliu's return merely accelerated York's development. Elsewhere, some might have already discovered potatoes or other crops, for maritime exploration had begun. Once progress started, forward momentum became inevitable.

Unlike Asia's structure, these nations were governed by the Temple. Centuries of indoctrination proved remarkably effective: every emperor required the Temple's authorization to legitimately ascend the throne, or else faced rejection. The Temple's influence extended far beyond this. Its most brutal practice, in the earliest days, was demanding that even noble titles be approved by the Temple's emissaries, rendering any refusal null and void.

Yet before Tang Feiliu's birth, this dynamic had begun shifting dramatically—emperors refused to remain perpetually constrained. While the Temple's methods proved initially effective for governing subjects, their growing restrictions, especially as corruption within the Temple deepened, culminating in the Pope amassing wealth surpassing even the emperors of nations... these contradictions intensified relentlessly.

Decades ago, these tensions reached a boiling point. Several nations first held secret consultations, then formally declared that emperors possessed the exclusive right and legitimacy to grant titles within their own territories, openly defying the Temple. As the Temple's corruption increasingly alienated the populace and lost its various forms of support, others quickly recognized the benefits of this approach and followed suit. The Temple, long accustomed to arrogance and tyranny, faced sudden backlash. Momentarily paralyzed, they scrambled for a response. Before they could devise a countermeasure, the nobles who had tasted this sweet victory rallied fiercely behind their emperors. The Temple was forced to grit its teeth and retreat. This marked the turning point, as the Temple gradually began to withdraw from its totalitarian phase.

"...Many say the struggle over the right to confer honors dragged on for decades, only truly settling in recent years... Rumor has it the Pope received a substantial sum and had some weakness exploited by the nobles, leading to the agreement between the two sides..." Alexander didn't dwell on the minutiae. He poured himself into catching Tang Feiliu up on events from recent years, anxious that his younger brother—raised in the modern era—might be at a disadvantage. He practically wanted to cram a decade's worth of lessons into a single night.

The brothers chatted over snacks. Though their conversation felt awkward at first, it soon flowed endlessly. The bond of blood was that pure. Within days, the decade-long separation seemed to fade away. The people of Valra Town were astonished to discover that on one particularly sunny afternoon, the once-reclusive and gloomy Alexander Doug suddenly appeared strolling through the countryside with a fair-haired, blue-eyed child. The boy had a round, fair, and delicate face. Though he had grown taller and fuller, he was instantly recognizable as Lance Doug—Alexander's own younger brother, the one who had been driven away!

Everyone was stunned, but before they could speculate, they received an invitation to a small afternoon gathering hosted by Alexander—a welcome home for his brother, who had returned after convalescing.

Meanwhile, within the palace walls, the atmosphere was far from relaxed.

The standoff with Josephine that afternoon lasted only a moment before her smile suddenly eased the tension.

Josephine sipped her coffee, lowering her eyes as she murmured softly, "So tense. No wonder even Wright could tell you feel differently about that child."

"Lait?!" Edward was momentarily taken aback, a rare occurrence. He frowned. "I thought you had banished him."

"He's a sensitive, fragile child," Josephine finished her coffee, gently setting down her teacup. The bone china emitted a crisp, low clink. The Empress's voice was leisurely as she continued, "But thankfully, he's obedient... I sent him back to the church to see his old friends."

"He is your child. I trust you have made all the necessary arrangements," Edward said softly, his gaze fixed on Queen Josephine.

After a brief exchange of pleasantries, Edward rose to take his leave.

Edward hurried toward the palace gates, climbing into his carriage. Only after leaving the gilded splendor of the palace far behind did he exhale softly.

Everything within the palace was beautiful—a level of opulence unimaginable to ordinary people. Yet it was also filled with darkness and decay that ordinary people could never endure.

Edward recalled his first arrival here, seeing the beautiful, gentle Empress Josephine—a figure never truly present in his memories, yet who had always protected him, an angelic presence that had kept him alive. She was so beautiful, her body suffused with the rich scent of perfume, dressed in magnificent gowns. She held him gently, her head bowed, tears falling like dew from a rose.

She trained him and taught him like a loving mother to her child. Then, the very first thing she asked him was: "Do you go hunting with Charles's brothers?"

She carefully instructed him where to go and how to help Charles claim what was rightfully his.

Over those ten years, Edward received the finest instruction and truly became the Black Duke feared by all. He was Queen Josephine's protector and spokesperson, a naturally cold-blooded demon.

Everyone believed that without this nephew, Empress Josephine might not have retained her position as Empress. But Edward understood that they had merely helped each other through the darkest times.

They were less like family and more like political partners—trusting each other, yet always wary.

It often made Empress Josephine sigh that he should have been her own child. Then, everything she desired would surely be hers for the taking.

"No," Edward replied respectfully to the lady, prompting her to burst into laughter.

She was an ambitious woman, as vibrant as a rose, who understood many things—especially how to turn defeat into victory, how to play a bad hand to her advantage. Years ago, an enemy had told Edward the story... The king's first proposal had not been to this rose-like beauty, but to her elder sister, Mary Jane. Yet in the end, gentle Mary Jane chose the more handsome duke, while this lady married the king as her family's representative.

The king did not care for the radiant, strong-willed Josephine, though she was undeniably beautiful. They had known sweetness in their early years, but Edward had not been fortunate enough to witness those times. He only knew that this lady's ambitions spanned the breadth of York, indeed the entire world. She cared little for what she possessed now... Her goal was singular.

Prince Wright, sent to the Temple for education at a young age, knew nothing of this. Nor did Charles, raised as a prince... The first to discern it was Edward, an outsider. He saw the burning ambition within this lioness. He saw where her gaze was fixed—the imperial throne of the Nat Empire.

Over a decade of scheming... no, a lifetime of scheming. No one knew how much energy Lady Josephine had expended, but clearly, she was about to seize the scepter.

Charles, who had always believed he was destined to be king, surely only now realized that with the king gravely ill, he was the sole heir apparent. Yet... he was not the only one.

Thus began his rebellion, an attempt to complicate matters for his mother. Yet before her lion-like majesty and power, his actions amounted to nothing more than a child's tantrum.

"You should have been Prince of Nat," the instigator had once declared. Edward gazed at the splendid royal city and its bustling citizens as his carriage clattered away, returning to his resting place within the imperial capital.

No sooner had Edward dismounted than one of the knights approached, bowing low and whispering, "Prince Charles has been here for some time. He is in the study."

Edward nodded, but then heard the next sentence: "...Also, a letter has arrived from York. It contains a letter for you from Mr. Lance."

Edward froze, then suddenly quickened his pace toward his chambers. He moved faster and faster, leaving the palace's dark atmosphere and his attendants—Jace and the others—behind him in an instant as he hurried alone upstairs.

A chill clung to him, yet when he opened the letter—written in halting, stumbling words—a gentle smile spread across his face. It was as if all that cold and darkness had been instantly banished, like a lost traveler finding redemption.

Author's Note:

Thanks to Peipei for the landmine.

Also... it got freezing cold today, and I almost didn't overcome my laziness. (Thankfully, I managed to drag myself out of bed in the end.)