Chapter 33 - The Successor

The man lay on his back in bed, propped slightly upright. His limbs, paralyzed by brain damage, were entirely immobile.

Though his body couldn't move, he was conscious, capable of breathing on his own. When spoken to, his eyelids would flutter open, and his eyes would dart in response to words—proof he could still understand speech.

To those who knew the once-vigorous father, this sight must have seemed pitiful and tragic.

Standing at his bedside, Uncle grimaced in pain at the sight of his brother's changed appearance. Bernard, his son, looked at the man he recognized and, for the first time in his life, was on the verge of tears.

Matching their demeanor, Gloria bowed her head with a sorrowful expression, pressing a handkerchief to her lips.

But inside, she was ecstatic.

He could neither act nor speak. Yet he understood everything being said.

In such a state, the Duke of Caldwell could no longer fulfill his duties or be entrusted with them.

While her revenge on Alan left some dissatisfaction, Alan had performed admirably in weakening their father.

She was so pleased, she considered visiting Alan's grave to lay clovers—a true token of good fortune.

"Father, can you hear me?"

Gloria spoke in a faint voice. Holding back her joy with a sorrowful expression, her voice trembled naturally.

Her father's eyes slowly turned toward her.

Then, his gaze shifted, realizing that Gloria wasn't alone by his bedside.

"My apologies for the long absence. I've been busy, but today I bring good news."

Even without her father, the world had continued turning. And without him, the Caldwell house thrived.

"First, concerning the succession of the Caldwell Duchy. With Uncle's suggestion, Bernard has been approved as the next duke by the royal castle."

"I'll do my utmost to honor the Caldwell name!"

The nine-year-old boy, his soft, glossy blonde hair and light golden-purple eyes resembling Caldwell colors but paler, greeted with a clear, high voice and bowed politely to the bedridden man.

Father's dark purple eyes, befitting a Caldwell head, widened in horror. His paralyzed voice box struggled to vibrate, producing faint, soundless breaths.

"Next, the liquor we had been developing is complete. Though there's room for improvement, it's good enough to market to commoners. With the Earl of the Church backing us, it will debut next month at the Grand Cathedral in the capital."

Uncle stepped forward, presenting a glass bottle to Father with a delighted smile.

Sunlight streaming through the window made the green bottle shimmer brilliantly.

"This liquor marks the first achievement of my engagement to His Highness Edward. I will ensure it is not the last."

As Father's eyes darted in alarm, Gloria smiled serenely.

"Yes, I was recently chosen as His Highness's fiancée at a tea party held for that purpose. This Gloria has been formally selected."

With a graceful nod, she placed a hand over her chest.