The Tyrant's Pet

Chapter 602 It's His Fault



Dexter\'s face contorted, watching the three Grimsbanne working on the garden busily. He went to the emperor\'s chancery to have an audience with the emperor before his departure for the search, only to be redirected to the forbidden mansion within the imperial palace grounds. There were many things that went through the marquess\' head about what could Abel was doing, assuming the Emperor was preparing countermeasures for whatever the outcome of this investigation was.

Seeing him dig up the soil and till the garden with his sister and granddaughter, Dexter figured he thought too highly of Abel.

"Is his quarrel with my sister ended as horribly as I heard?" Dexter turned to Conan, who was standing at a safe distance from the garden while watching the Grimsbannes.

Conan nodded with his lips drawn into a thin line. "He\'s been like that since yesterday. Even locked himself in that Joaquin\'s cell to get a piece of advice."

​ "So, his head isn\'t very clear." Dexter set his eyes back on the three, sighing faintly. "Should I interrupt him? I guess I\'ll leave without having an audience with him."

"Uncle!" Dexter and Conan snapped their eyes when Sunny suddenly waved to get their attention. "Come, come!"

Abel and Marsella paused in what they were doing to look in their direction. Marsella just snorted and shook her head, resuming watering the pots. Meanwhile, Abel placed his hands on his hips and stretched his body, groaning.

"I don\'t see the reason I need to see this," mumbled Dexter, but still dragged his feet towards them. He stood two meters from the three. His eyes fell on the grass and plant pots, eyes twitching upon a closer look as the flowerpots around tripled in number now that he stood closer.

"Greetings, Your Majesty," he greeted for formality, only for Abel to wave dismissively.

"You can drop the pretense, Marquess." Abel kept his hands on his hips, sporting a dull expression on him. "This is all your fault."

Deep lines resurfaced on the Marquess\'s forehead as he straightened his back. "As slow-witted as I am, I believed I had nothing to do with your quarrel with my sister. If she offended Your Majesty, I\'ll happily withdraw her participation in the selection."

"See what I am talking about, Marsella?" Abel faced Marsella while pointing at Dexter. "It\'s his fault. He had spoiled my wife so much and now she was lashing out at me just because I have differing views."

"I would highly appreciate it if you give me a moment of peace, Abel." Marsella\'s expression died. She had been listening to Abel and his woes regarding his \'crumbling\' marriage; she was tired of it.

Abel frowned, narrowing his eyes at her. "Did you badmouth me in front of her?"

"Hah… it\'s not badmouthing if it\'s facts." She shrugged, casting Dexter a knowing look. "Right?"

"Handsome Grandpa, who is the best in this world, won\'t you bother to give the marquess your blessing and send him off with a good word?" Sunny chimed in. "He clearly came here to bid you farewell."

"I do not need to send him off with a kind word… he didn\'t even put a good word about me to his sister."

"You are so dramatic it is so painful to watch you." Marsella shook her head. "If you are dying, just rush to the Hyacinth Palace and apologize even if you don\'t know what you\'re apologizing for."

"My papa does that, but then my mother will ask what he was apologizing for. Mama will get even furious whenever he answers \'for everything.\'"

Marsella laughed. "I guess I\'ll go back to my initial advice --" and then looked at Abel. "Kill yourself, brother. This marriage is over."

Abel let out a dramatic sigh, shaking his head because these two weren\'t helping him. They were simply making his anxiety soar.

"Dani had calmed down. If you want to talk to her, then now is the time." Dexter cleared his throat, almost forgetting he was there to tell Abel he would depart to search for Isaiah. They didn\'t even show the slightest worry when the man had gone missing and no one knew where the hell he was.

"I don\'t believe you." Abel waved dismissively. "If you found Isaiah, tell him to come back immediately. Conan needs to shift his target from me."

Dexter lowered his head. "Very well. I\'ll be on my way."

"Take care, Uncle~!" Sunny waved and offered Dexter a sweet smile. "If you see my papa or mama, please tell them I miss them."

"If you see her parents, tell them to pick her up as soon as possible," Marsella chimed. "This child is getting worse with Abel\'s guidance."

"My grandpa is handsome and cool and smart!"

"She uplifts my mood." Abel smiled at the little girl\'s obvious brown-nosing and then quirked a brow at Dexter. "Return in one piece, Marquess. Your sister will kill me if you died on a mission I personally sent you."

"Understood, Your Majesty."

With that being said, Dexter bowed slightly once again and scanned the three. He didn\'t say anything anymore as he turned around, walking in Conan\'s direction.

"Morro will take you out if things get dangerous," said Conan, only for Dexter to chuckle.

"I don\'t need your encouragement." Dexter paused in his steps and cast Conan a look. "You should worry about them, especially him. I don\'t think he had more patience to spare and continue this selection until the date of the coronation. He\'ll rush it if he doesn\'t reconcile with her tonight."

Conan\'s brows rose, offering Dexter a side-eye. "Don\'t be complacent, Marquess. The unknown forces walking within the imperial grounds are sly. I wouldn\'t be surprised if the people Darkmore met on his way back are troublesome lads to deal with."

"Sure." Dexter waved weakly, sauntering off, not willing to have an extended conversation with Conan. As he walked to a distance, Dexter suddenly stopped and looked back. Conan was still standing on the same spot while watching the Grimsbanne kill time in the garden.

Dexter then raised his eyes at the mansion behind the three, furrowing his brows as he fixed his eyes on a particular window.

"I felt like someone was staring at me from there," he mumbled, shaking his head to ignore the brief feeling of being watched just now before he resumed his steps.


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