In the Doghouse - Chapter 138
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Frederick was utterly bewildered. Having been dragged straight here after an entire night spent in the city watch’s custody, he hadn’t had the chance to understand what was happening.
Much like his father, Count Devon, he had always stayed far from central politics. This was the first time he’d set foot in the private halls of the palace.
He looked around anxiously. Where was he being taken, and why? Although others had committed the same offense, he alone had been summoned to the palace.
Could it be that his annoying little sister was trying to rescue him? Perhaps, despite their differences, family was family. He felt a small sense of relief.
Still, the empty grandeur of the hallway at midday was unsettling. Unease crept over him, prompting him to ask again.
“Are we… seeing the Crown Princess?”
“You’ll find out soon enough,” replied Bassen curtly.
Frederick was hardly in a position to complain, given that he’d been caught red-handed the previous night in an illegal gambling den. And he wasn’t merely a participant—he was the one accused of organizing the gambling event.
Finally, they stopped in front of an empty reception room.
“Wait here.”
“Wait for… who?”
Bassen scowled at him, no longer the polite aide he’d been only a day prior. It had always seemed odd to Frederick that someone so imposing and tough-looking was assigned as his aide. Now, Bassen seemed almost hostile.
With no other choice, Frederick entered the room. The door closed firmly behind him, the sound reminiscent of a prison cell’s iron bars.
While there was no lock, he didn’t dare try to escape. This was the palace, after all. Any suspicious movement could lead to more trouble.
He sat on the sofa, burying his head in his hands.
“Ah, I’m really screwed…”
About six months prior, after the influential Marquis Mallon had abruptly left the capital, there had been sweeping changes in the city’s gambling scene.
Only those with verified status could open establishments, and they had to adhere strictly to the newly established regulations. Entry required identity verification, bets were limited, and borrowing funds was entirely prohibited. Any hint of cheating or manipulation was strictly off-limits.
The revamped gambling houses had all effectively banned Frederick from entry, without offering any explanations. Even when he tried using someone else’s name, the guards somehow recognized him each time. Later, he learned that the Crown Prince himself had decreed the new gambling laws.
It was obvious to Frederick that Courtney, his meddling sister, had orchestrated this.
After being effectively barred from the capital’s gambling dens, he had initially amused himself by gathering with friends for private games. But these friends knew him too well, so there were no surprises or exciting stakes. Before long, even they abandoned him for the regulated establishments.
Soon, he was left only with the shabby card games of cheap taverns, which barely drew the city watch’s attention. There, he met other gamblers who, like him, preferred not to verify their identities.
“It’s all that wench’s fault…”
Frederick, without a hint of shame, blamed Courtney. If she was going to prevent him from gambling, she should at least fund some venture for him. All he had was an empty title. Parading around for attention had quickly lost its charm.
Thus, he blamed her for his decision to join the gamblers he’d met at the tavern in setting up a private game room in a rented warehouse. Last night had been their grand opening. Somehow, the city watch arrived almost immediately.
He shifted blame again, this time to his co-conspirators. Someone must have leaked the information, or maybe the warehouse owner reported them when they refused to pay him extra. Couldn’t they see it was just a card game? His mind spiraled with excuses.
“Uuugh, god damn it…!”
He slammed a fist on the table. What was done was done. Violating the Crown Prince’s decree so openly would surely not go unpunished.
Yet he doubted the Crown Prince would go as far as imprisoning his own brother-in-law. And if he did, Frederick believed his last option would be to beg Courtney. She might act tough, but he figured she wouldn’t refuse a desperate plea from family.
But before he could further contemplate his options, the door opened. It wasn’t his lenient sister who entered, but the Crown Prince himself, his face cold and severe.
Frederick sprang to his feet as if his seat were on fire.
“Your Highness…!”
“Sit down.”
Without acknowledging Frederick’s greeting, Richard walked briskly to the head seat and sat down heavily. Today, he wasn’t even bothering with formalities.
Frederick, scowling, reluctantly took his seat again, resentful at being treated so dismissively. He couldn’t help but think he deserved better, given his relation to Courtney.
Richard didn’t bother hiding his displeasure. Without offering tea or pleasantries, he went straight to the point.
“An illegal gambling den. How bold of you.”
“That… I…”
Frederick stammered, taken aback by the direct rebuke. If it had been his sister, he might have blamed her outright, but this was the Crown Prince.
Still though, even as he bore the title of nobleman, he had little grasp of the prince’s temperament or intentions, having lived a careless life far from noble duties.
So he muttered a half-hearted excuse, struggling for words.
“It’s a misunderstanding. I just… wanted a small gathering to bond with friends…”
