Come to another world and become a lord

The news of Aaron's death spread throughout the court like a thunderbolt, shocking almost everyone. At this time, Philip was sitting in the hall of the palace, with servants waiting beside him. The atmosphere was solemn and solemn. He kept fiddling with the silver wine glass in his hand, raised his head slightly, and a trace of incredible shock flashed in his eyes. His lips trembled slightly, and his expression suddenly became gloomy. The atmosphere in the hall seemed to solidify. The nobles who were originally communicating in a low voice also put away their expressions and looked at the king with deep meaning. Philip slowly put down the cup, making a "dong" sound, like a muffled thunder, echoing throughout the hall, making people's hearts palpitate.

"Aaron... is dead?" He murmured in a low voice, his voice sounded like he was talking to himself, but also like he was questioning, with a little anger and disbelief in his tone. Aaron was the Duke of the West, the Prime Minister, and now he died in the North. What does this mean? This is a slap in his face!

"How dare you!" he said again, his voice gradually getting louder and the echo drifted in the hall.

The ministers who had originally lowered their heads, raised their heads unconsciously, looked at each other, and whispered to each other.

"It was Karl who did it, no one else but him!" someone shouted.

"The prime minister of a country is killed for no reason. How can this guy Karl have the country in his eyes? I'm afraid he doesn't even take His Majesty seriously!" Someone else echoed quietly.

These words pierced his heart like a sharp knife, and each one seemed to test Philip's tolerance limit. King Philip sat calmly on the throne, his eyes cold, and he listened quietly to the accusations and whispers of the ministers. Hearing this implicit insult to his authority, Philip's eyes sank slightly, and he nodded slightly. Just as he was about to speak, the sound of light footsteps suddenly came from the door, interrupting everyone's conversation.

Everyone turned their eyes and saw a tall figure in a white robe stepping in. He was calm and had a solemnity that could not be ignored - Bishop Maide of the Vatican had arrived.

Maide bowed slightly and said in a low and solemn voice: "Your Majesty."

Philip narrowed his eyes slightly and looked at him with a slightly scrutinizing look, "Why are you here today, Bishop?"

Maide's face was gentle, his hands clasped in front of his chest, and he said slowly: "Your Majesty, His Holiness the Pope heard that Lord Aaron had met with an accident and was deeply sorry. He sent me here to show his concern."

Phillip snorted lightly, narrowed his eyes, and responded coldly: “I’m afraid you shouldn’t say this here, right?”

Maide was not flustered, and remained calm as he said, "Your Majesty, please forgive me for being abrupt. In fact, there is another matter - a false rumor has spread rapidly among the people, involving the murder of Lord Aaron... Someone spread the rumor that Lord Aaron's death was related to Duke Carl of the North."

Philip's eyes turned cold, and a trace of disdain appeared on his face: "Isn't this obvious? Aaron and Karl fought in the North, and died in the North. Who is the most suspicious? There is no need to say more."

"But Your Majesty, Your Majesty is quite suspicious about this matter." Maide raised his head, his tone still gentle but firm, "As far as the Holy See knows, Lord Aaron and Carl have reached a reconciliation after the war, and both sides have accepted the armistice agreement. Carl has no reason to attack him anymore."

“Not necessarily.” An elderly noble in a dark red robe sneered and raised his eyebrows in mockery, “This just shows Karl’s despicable tactics. He pretends to negotiate peace to let Aaron relax his vigilance, and then assassinates him in secret. This is exactly his usual style.”

Maide turned his eyes slightly towards the nobleman, a hint of dissatisfaction flashed in his eyes, but then he restrained it and turned to look at Philip. His voice was as steady as a rock: "Your Majesty, the current situation is turbulent. The North has just won a great victory. Carl is already a true Duke of the North. If you accuse him now without solid evidence, I am afraid it will shake the stability of the kingdom."

Philip stared at Maide and smiled coldly, with a hint of veiled warning in his tone: "When did the Holy See become so concerned about the country's political affairs? It has always only been concerned about matters of faith."

Maide looked directly into Philip's eyes without making any expression, lowered his head slightly, and said calmly, "Your Majesty, we are only concerned about the peace of the kingdom. The Holy See does not want to see the kingdom fall into turmoil, and I believe Your Majesty feels the same way, right?"

Philip snorted coldly, but did not refute in the end. He just swept his eyes like a knife at everyone and said in a deep voice: "Well, in this case, I will send people to the North to investigate this matter. But if it is really Karl who did it——"

Maide took a deep breath and took a step forward. His face was solemn and his voice echoed in the hall like a bell: "Your Majesty, I swear on the honor of the Holy See that it was not Karl who did it."

Philip's eyes were locked, and after a long time he smiled coldly: "I hope so."

The tranquility of the church was broken by a letter. Myrna clenched her fists, her eyes full of grief and anger. When she received the news of her father's death, she was almost stunned on the spot. She couldn't believe it. Her father was the Duke of the West and the Prime Minister of the Kingdom. He was second to none. How could he die? Who dared to harm him? And when the messenger told her that Karl was the most suspicious, it was another major blow to her heart. The pain burned in her chest and she couldn't bear it.

She could hardly believe it was true. Her father Aaron was stabbed to death, and the murderer was Carl!

But, did he really do it? No, it should be him, and only he has the courage, who else could do it? As the prime minister, even the dukes of the same status were polite when they saw my father for so many years. Only someone like Karl was arrogant to everyone.

In an instant, anger, pain, and regret intertwined in her heart. She clenched her teeth, the letter in her hand trembled slightly at her fingertips, and her eyes became colder.

"Karl...Karl!" Myrna held the letter tightly, her voice low and full of resentment. She couldn't imagine how this damned serf, not only did he not know how to repay his father's kindness, but he actually dared to do such a cruel thing to her father! Her heart was filled with a desire for revenge, as if only by killing Karl with her own hands could she calm the burning anger in her heart.

"Where's Maide?" She almost rushed into the bishop's office, her tone anxious and suppressed. Her eyes swept across every corner of the church, but she only saw a few nuns with surprised expressions.

An elderly nun stepped forward and soothed her softly, "Myrna, calm down... The bishop went to the palace to handle an emergency today. He is not here for the time being."

"Go to the palace?" Myrna's voice trembled. The anger in her heart almost ignited her. She whispered to herself, "Why is he going to the palace? Forget it, I'll go to the palace to find him!"

When the nun saw her turning around and trying to leave, she quickly reached out to hold her back, "Milan, you can't go to the palace. These things..."

However, Myrna had already thrown all her worries behind her. She shook off the nun's hand and rushed towards the church door without hesitation.

"My father is dead, and I want justice for him. No one can stop me today!" Her voice was fierce and firm, almost making the nuns around her at a loss.

She walked out of the office quickly. Several nuns stamped their feet in anxiety, but no one could stop her.

At this moment, the main door of the church was opened, and Maide walked in. After seeing the girl, his expression was slightly stunned.

"Milna?" Maide asked in a low voice, with a hint of doubt in his eyes, "Where are you going?"

"My father is dead, did you know that?" Myrna glared at him, her emotions almost burning into a raging fire in her chest.

Maide sighed softly and nodded.

"I heard the bad news this morning, so I went to the palace early in the morning." He paused, a complicated look flashing in his eyes.

"Your Majesty, do you plan to avenge my father?" Myrna's voice trembled a little, and she looked at him hopefully, as if waiting for justice to come.

Maide was silent for a moment and whispered:

"Your Majesty did have this thought...but I persuaded him not to do so."

"What?" Myrna's eyes were filled with confusion and anger. She stared at Maide in disbelief. "Why did you do this? Father has worked so hard for the kingdom, and this is how you repay him?"

"This is strange," Maide said calmly and firmly. "Now that Karl is the Duke of the North, if we rashly become his enemy, it may shake the foundation of the entire kingdom."

"Bullying the weak and fearing the strong!" Myrna was furious, her voice sharp and indignant, "Hasn't the Holy See always been proud of fairness? Now it is backing down in front of such a despicable person!"

"I told you, the truth of this matter is not clear." Maide looked at her deeply, his tone as firm as stone.

"Who else could it be if not him?" The girl sneered, her eyes red with anger, "Only this damned serf dares to be so bold!"

"Milna!" Maide's voice became heavier, with a hint of warning.

Myrna raised her head stubbornly, her eyes filled with anger and sadness:

"If the Church is unwilling to bring justice to my father, then let me go and let me get my revenge!"

Maide sighed helplessly, shook his head slightly, and said with an irresistible determination:

"I'm sorry, Myrna. I can't let you go. Your father has entrusted you here. This is not only the duty of the Church, but also the agreement between him and me."

"Promise? My father is dead!" Myrna almost roared, her chest heaving violently with anger, "You have no right to imprison me!"

Maide stared at her silently, his eyes full of compassion and determination. He nodded slightly, waved behind him, and signaled several servants to come forward, "I'm sorry, Myrna. You two, take her back to her room."

Then the girl's arm was grabbed from behind.

"Let go!" She struggled hard, her angry shouts echoing in the corridor, "Maide, you have no right to do this! Let me go! Let go!"

Her figure was taken away from the church hall and gradually disappeared into the dark corridor. Finally, she was pushed back to her room, and the door was slammed shut behind her, trapping her in helplessness and anger.

Myrna's chest heaved violently, her hands clenched into fists, and her eyes burned with humiliation and anger.

At this moment, a crow's cry suddenly came from behind her. She slowly turned her head and saw a crow landing on the windowsill. Its black feathers were shining slightly in the morning light. The crow seemed to be staring at her, its black eyes flashing with a cold light.