Chapter 232

Chapter 232

“Well, being in a physical profession, we’re quite familiar with injuries. Is your shoulder okay? You mentioned bumping into someone earlier…”

“Of course, I’m perfectly fine. So you don’t have to look at my injury!”

Vivian, even imagining herself showing her shoulder, quickly composed herself and exclaimed with a flushed face. Lucius, slightly puzzled by the lady’s mistaken assumption, whispered in a low tone, as if explaining.

“Why would I look at the young lady’s injury? I simply meant that since we’re headed to the temple, if the injury is severe, it’s better to show it to the priest.”

His explanation was logical, but Vivian just stared at Lucius’s face blankly. Since she met him, Lucius had always responded in a dry tone, but now it felt almost like a plea—though, of course, it wasn’t, but that’s how it sounded to Vivian—as he whispered in a low voice. That voice flowed into her ears like a melody, causing her heart to flutter.

“Why are you sending that bastard over here!”

Vivian recalled the morning a few days ago when his father, the marquis had been furious after hearing the news of an imperial knight bringing relief supplies. Lucius.

“He only asked to borrow ten thousand pavels, not more. What a waste, and what a waste to send that bastard on top of that. Vivian, you must keep your wits about you. He may be coming for you.”

The marquise, who had been calmly eating, remarked. “Darling, that seems a bit too much. Lord Elliot married a lady, didn’t he?”

“Didn’t you hear about that too? The damned prince went to the empire to find his betrothed, Lord Elliot’s lady! If he would give her the queen’s seat, and if she shouldaccept it, Lucius will be available for marriage.”

“No way.”

“It’s not just a possibility. The emperor might be sending that man here to involve us. So, Vivian, you must never set eyes on him. Do you understand?”

Disobeying her father, who had become unusually sensitive after suffering great losses in gambling, wasn’t easy. Vivian obediently nodded. She didn’t believe that the emperor’s knight was visiting Ponto Estate to tease her, but she had no particular interest in knights either way.

But no matter how indifferent she tried to be, all of it dispersed the moment she faced him.

“Are you alright? I’m Lucius Elliot. Do you have any injuries?”

Amidst the chaos outside, his voice, calm and considerate, cut through the uncertainty. And his appearance, when revealed, not only matched but exceeded the fantasy set by his voice.

From then on, Vivian fell under the spell of Lucius’s trusting voice, good looks, and confident demeanor, and let him have his way with her.

The idea of using an expensive priest for a street child in her already scarce means only occurred to her when the bill came due.

And of course, it was Lucius who once again came to Vivian’s rescue when she hesitated to send a bill to her family.

“I’ll handle it. Just send it over here.”

Vivian apologized with a troubled expression. “I’m sorry. I should be handling this.”

“No, it’s okay. I can’t burden the young lady.”

Even that simple statement felt impressive.

Vivian ended up spending the rest of the day giving meaning to the way Lucius watched over her, the way he escorted her so effortlessly.

Lucius, too, had noticed the attention, but he didn’t care. He was about to leave the temple when a familiar priest caught his eye. Bustling among the patients was a priest he recognized.

What was his name again? He couldn’t quite remember, but it was clear he had informed Lucius about Deatrice’s plan to secretly visit the temple on the day of the Duke’s wedding.

Perhaps sensing Lucius’s gaze, the priest turned his head toward him, and when he spotted him, he looked flustered but still came over.

“Hello.”

“May blessings be upon you. It’s been a while, Lord Elliot.”

As he met the slightly uncomfortable expression on the priest’s face, Lucius realized why Deatrice had come to Ponto.

Perhaps she sought help to leave the empire. And she must have come to Ponto with this priest.

Lucius put on a casual expression while chewing on the flesh inside his mouth. But internally, he was consumed by thoughts like, ‘Was she so desperate to cling to such a fragile connection?’

Suddenly, Lucius spoke up.

“You don’t inquire about Deatrice. Ah, you’ve been corresponding with her, haven’t you?”

The priest momentarily displayed an awkward and troubled expression, then nodded.

“Yes. Of course.”

“Good to hear. I was worried.”

Lucius smiled gently, then nodded and stepped back. He felt the priest’s gaze on his back as he left, but it only emanated cold disdain.

That night, Lucius received a report from his agent. It was a report on how Deatrice had been doing since she arrived here. It would go without saying how utterly bewildered he must have been when he saw her carrying a basket filled with butter, walking down the street in a plain dark blue dress like a country girl.

“Currently serving as a teacher at St. Chelina School.”

Lucius read aloud the words on the paper.

“Teaching imperial language and etiquette, volunteering for the injured and those who have lost their homes on holidays… At school, she examines the wounds of women and children for free until three in the afternoon…”

Setting down the document, Lucius ran his hand through his throbbing head and asked,

“Is this for real?”

Letting out a disappointed sigh, Lucius couldn’t help but feel frustrated with the knight who had brought the report. Could she, the noblest lady in the world, really be preparing food with hands stained with water, sleeping on a bed whose origin was unknown in a narrow room provided by the school, and working all day long?

If she was enduring such a life as a form of penance, he couldn’t understand why she had to leave him for it. If she was enduring this life as a form of atonement, he wanted to tell her to stop fooling herself.

Lucius cleared the documents nervously and told the knight he could leave, then lay down on the bed without even taking off his clothes.

Sleep wouldn’t come anyway. Under the faint moonlight once again, Lucius stared at the ceiling, layering his resentment with each passing moment.