Chapter 158

Chapter 158

After reading the name at the end, Deatrice quietly spread the letter on her lap. It was just a piece of paper, but she too could faintly feel the weight of the heart that Lucius had put into the paper.

Moderately serious yet gentle affection.

What can she dare to compare his confession to?

Looking up, she saw a window where the sunset was setting. On the mahogany desk under the open window lay a few fallen petals from a vase.

Deatrice looked around to remember everything. Put it in a glass bottle so that she can take it out whenever she feels tired. Then she buried it deep inside her heart.

* * *

A few days later, while looking through the guest book and sorting out gifts and letters to send to nobles, Deatrice went to the Duke’s study at an urgent call.

The duke had a face that looked uncomfortable to anyone, and as usual, he had a cigarette between his fingers. Deatrice unwittingly straightened the hem of her skirt, imitating the image of demure daughter, and then stopped doing it all.

The two rings Lucius had given her were on her hand. She was no longer her father’s property. So, did she now belong to Lucius? Legally yes. But she stopped thinking further.

Because she couldn’t compare Lucius to her father.

“The tea must’ve gotten cold.”

She looked at the Duke’s messy desk. The thick wooden desk, which must have been used by several dukes over the generations, was covered with piles of newspapers and papers. The desk represented the Duke’s work and a heart full of ambition.

To gauge the level of distress that was troubling the duke’s heart, all she had to do was glance at his desk. If the task at hand could be accomplished within a single day, the desk would be uncluttered and organized. But today, it appeared as though a storm had ravaged the surface, leaving behind a chaotic mess.

She couldn’t be certain, but the state of the desk was an indicator that the duke’s mind was not at ease. There was a palpable sense of tension in the air that she couldn’t ignore.

However, the Duke didn’t seem to want to comfort himself with the tea Deatrice suggested. He motioned for her to sit down, and then took a few more puffs on his cigarette. He could be seen rubbing his temples with thick fingers bearing family rings.

“I don’t know how to tell you this.”

The Duke struggled to open his mouth.

“A few nights ago, small wars broke out in Galaba. The fight was getting bigger and bigger, but in the end, even Ponto was captured yesterday.”

Ponto was the sprawling estate belonging to Count Adulf, a prominent conservative who had been a staunch supporter of the King of Galaba. During the rebellion that the duke and Fredhi had led, Count Adulf had been one of the most significant contributors to the King of Galaba’s cause.

As the duke spoke, his words seemed to be weighed down by a heavy burden, as if his mouth was filled with sand.

“Yes. Maybe, or almost certainly, Fredhi is alive.”

Time was given for her there. Her father seemed to think she would jump up, confused, and show emotion, as she did in this study a year or so earlier, when Deatrice abandoned Fredhi and was forced to marry Lucius.

However, even if she hadn’t known that in advance, Deatrice’s reaction would not have gone beyond what he was seeing now.

“Do you also think that he will succeed in the rebellion?”

The duke raised his eyebrows for a moment at Deatrice’s bland reaction, but he didn’t seem to guess that she would have known about it beforehand. The duke nodded his head with a feeble sigh and sat down on the single-seat sofa.

“Yes. I don’t know what to do, but if things go on like this, the king of Galaba might change before St. Cedric’s Day.”

“But I don’t know how that is possible. Now, without your help…”

“Sir Hale’s help must have been great. It was only then that I couldn’t change my mind and went through difficulties, but since he always rejected the intervention of the empire, he seems to have chosen a prince with whom we had no ties rather than a king in the emperor’s shadow. In addition, according to rumors, it seems to have some secret about monsters. It is said that wherever he opposed the prince, he was attacked by monsters. Maybe it’s just a rumor.”

The Duke now called Fredhi a prince.

Yes. He was no longer her dead ex-fiancé, but a prince and might-be-king.

“Lucius…”

Deatrice’s voice trembled for the first time. The Duke, who understood her hesitation, answered.

“He probably heard the news around the same time as me.”