Duke Gertrude wasn't the least bit bothered about the Count's announcement. It wouldn't matter to him whether the suspect was truly Horen Gertrude or not.
He had come to his senses upon Sorsiana Hamlin's death. It was as if he had been freed from a lifetime's curse. The suffocating yet tempting feeling whenever Sorsiana was around, he found it loathsome. It reached a point where, just upon remembering it, the Duke wanted to vomit a year's worth of food.
On the other hand, Vhelian's palms began to sweat. His eyes trembled, his breathing hitched.
The suppositions flooded his head. He didn't know how he would take the news if his brother wasn't really the suspect. The hatred he felt for Horen almost consumed him while he was grieving the death of his mother.
If he would be honest, Vhelian wanted things to stay as they were. The moment that Horen was proved to be innocent, emptiness would envelop him like a mother's cradle.
