Unlike the calm smile on the Grand Duke’s face, Viola's expression was stony.

It wasn’t quite murderous, but Viola’s irritation was clear enough to make the atmosphere tense. The air seemed heavier, as if gravity itself had intensified, yet the Grand Duke’s face remained relaxed.

It made sense; Grand Duke Piacra McManus was confident. Confident that Viola wouldn’t dare harm him.

This only emboldened him further.

“Isn’t it strange? Of the 42 expedition members, 13 were killed, yet not a single death came from the Frontier’s side?”

“That’s obvious. That chatterbox targeted your side. He knew he couldn’t defeat me, and next to me, Grant was the most important. It was the logical choice from his perspective.”

Anyone else witnessing this would be shocked at the restraint Viola was showing. The Grand Duke’s son, Piacra, was the likely heir and had already secured significant support.