I reincarnated as the Duke from the North.

I opened my pocket watch, noting the time. I am ahead of schedule. Things are going well. With the Upper Circles sent to the Border, trainees made of First Circles stay to act as a peacekeeping force meant to patrol the city streets and for emergencies like Cursed Beasts. They’re easy to fight and convince with my lone circle. And bringing them proof of my prowess that the statement was made more profound. Sprinkle a little bit of showing off with my sword; it's engraved in their minds that I am their Duke. The only one worthy. Dozens follow behind my black gothic-styled carriage on horseback and carriages of their own. The gold grade followed closely on his steed. Short, straight, blonde hair blew the cold under his navy blue officer hat. His ice-blue eyes were as cold as his breath. A foot shorter and leaner, he managed to hold well against my blows. Another man with potential.

Charles stopped us at Oakley Street, a block full of government offices and shops that care for ‘high-class’ clientele. Its location by the moat around my castle is where lesser nobles and the wealthy spend their money and time. Choosing to attend gentlemen's clubs and salons for the ladies of means and tailors whose garments cost a year's salary for the average miner. The perfect place to make an even bigger statement. I stepped onto the sidewalk with the usual stare but with less starving eyes. They whisper amongst themselves with eyes full of disdain and suspicion. A pigtailed child dropped her toy, hiding behind her well-dressed mother. I smiled as kindly as I could and the kid screamed her little head off, tears falling like rain.

I whispered to my newly appointed butler, who met me on the walkway in his stablehand attire. “What's her fucking problem?”

“Sire. Honestly, anyone would cry at the sight of your appearance.” Charles looked me up and down.

“What do me-Ooooh. Ok,” I remember that I had been walking around covered in bear guts for the past hour.

“And that.” Charles gestured to the bloody roof with pieces of meat remaining.

“I see.” I must look like a madman. How fun.

“Might I get your bath ready when you arrive at the castle?” Charles asked.

“Haha. You pick things up fast! Of course. But first, let's scare some more folks.” I smiled with a wide grin. The young girl cried once more.

I inhale, “ROUND-UP ON ME.” Officers rush off the horse and carriage and surround me at attention. They hit their chests with a salute.

“DUKE!” They shout.

The chatter and crying were silenced.

Feels good. This power. Control.

I divide the men with my hand. “This group. The mayor. My castle. Go.” They leave at my word. “You lot. My accountant. My castle. Go.” They hurry to do as I ordered. "Finally, you men. Susan, my maid.” I wait.

“YOUR CASTLE, YOUR GRACE!” They shout.

I point to the castle on the mountain above. “Go.”

I turn around as they leave, hearing the thunder of hoofs on the stone road. I fold my arms, feeling the bitter cold. “Not you, gold grade. Come along.”

The stern-faced man dropped off his horse and bowed.

“Name,” I ask of him.

“Kurt.”

I held up my hand to him and smiled. “Our shortlived battle was fun. Let us spar again.”

Shocked out of bowing, he looked at my hand nervously and then grasped it for a handshake. He nodded, his eyes struggling to keep contact.

Quiet man, it seems, but I do see an inkling of a smile.

“Getting a bit chilly out here, innit? Why don't we go inside for warmth?”

Wood splintered and glass shattered with my foot through the door. A chubby, balding man in his late forties scrambled away, tripping on the carpet in terror.

"Whew, much better. Do you mind?” I asked Kurt, pointing with my head at the Viscount as I walked to the fireplace. A tumble between the two and Kurt easily apprehends the man in a hold. My officer dragged him to me and placed him on the carpet to kneel.

“Viscount Fabern. You can guess why I am here,” I said, staring into the fire. My vision blurred as memories emerged. A great blaze consumed my being. Heat searing deep into my bones.

I snapped out of my haze at the incessant whining of the portly fellow.

“Listen to me, sire. You misunderstand!”

I turn to him. Stare my beastly red eyes at him. I moved across the room in a moment. My hand grabbed the viscount’s neck, picking him up until his short legs daggled. “Misunderstand what?! While I was sick. Broken. Bedridden. My lawyer, of all people, helped in the forgery of my ‘Marriage’!”

I drop the Viscount, leaving him to cough on the floor.

“I had no choice in the matter!”

“YOUR MY LAWYER! MY FAMILY’S CONFIDANT. For God's sake, we leave our wills to your care. Who could have higher authority than me?!”

Who makes your purses heavier? The old Duchess family? My brother?

“I was ordered by the powers that be in the capital!”

I close my eyes in thought. Capital, scared the viscount enough to fuck with me, and higher on the totem pole.

I open my red eyes. “The crown.”

The viscount looked away. “I have family and businesses there; I-I-I couldn't ignore them any longer.”

I squat down to speak close to his face. “Longer. How long.”

Viscount Fabern licked his lips. “Years…”

I stand up, rubbing my dirty face.

Why?

In “TAPLM” after Tarion dies and the brother takes his place, there is not one scene or a single mention that the crown went furious that their plans went to shit.

“Your grace. Check that drawer! It has a copy listing the details of the marriage terms.

I nodded my head and Charles came out of the corridor to search the drawer. He grabbed a bunch of papers and handed them to the Viscount.

“Here. Sire.” hands me a paper. I bit the finger of my glove to pull it off for a cleaner hand. The Viscount gives me a side eye at my manners. With the paper in my hand, I read Friedish with ease. Thank you, memories.

I skimmed through a lot of business stuff, including the transfer of goods, money, and land. Boring shit.

“Fuck me…”

I roll the paper and fling it to my butler. "Read it, then hold on to it."

Intelligent eyes scan the contract. “Your grace! How dare they!”

I shrug my shoulders. “Aristocrat bullocks. Kurt, bring him to the carriage; we are taking a ride to the castle.”

“Yes, your grace.” Kurt bowed.

I watched Kurt escort the Viscount with a hold, feeling pity for dear Tarion. Your own family is willing for you to die to steal what isn't theirs. What a cliche.

3 days till Vanessa arrives.