Chapter 117: Just Once
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 117: Just Once
“You should head back first.”
After dismissing Count Pacio, with whom he had just finished speaking, Loik did not turn to leave. Instead, he strode toward a nearby thicket.
Standing before the bushes, he spoke in a low voice.
“Come out.”
The previously still bushes rustled for a moment before Raphael poked his head out.
“Does my brother-in-law dream of being a spy?”
Loik narrowed his eyes as he looked down at the boy’s brown curls.
“It seems you have a penchant for eavesdropping on others' conversations.”
Raphael’s cheeks puffed out in a pout.
“I thought I did a really good job of not getting caught this time…”
For some reason, the sight reminded Loik of Annette.
The little brat. Is he actually kind of cute?
In the end, instead of scolding Raphael, Loik called for the knight who had been monitoring the boy from behind.
“Hassel. Tell Whitley to set out some refreshments in the garden in front of the main castle.”
“Follow me,” Loik said, glancing at Raphael.
The boy seemed to have truly believed he had given the knights the slip this time. Upon seeing Hassel, Raphael’s eyes widened, and his shoulders slumped as he followed behind Loik.
Not long after the two arrived in the garden, Whitley served an elaborate spread of tea and sweets. The two men sat at the tea table, sipping their tea in awkward silence.
Raphael kept his eyes cast down primly, focusing only on crunching his cookies.
He definitely heard what was said earlier, so he must have something to say.
Just as Loik, unable to wait any longer, cleared his throat—
“Are you going to divorce my sister?”
Raphael’s question struck like a sudden bolt.
“No.”
Though caught off guard, Loik answered instantly.
“Are you sure?” Raphael narrowed his eyes. “You’re not going to change your mind later, dump my sister, and marry a princess, are you?”
“That will never happen.”
Loik spoke with heavy emphasis, worried that Raphael might breathe a word of this to his sister. Annette might be the one to leave him, but Loik would never be the one to let go of her hand first.
“Well, it doesn’t matter anyway,” Raphael muttered spitefully through a mouthful of cookie. “If you divorce her, my sister can just go back to the capital.”
It’s not like she didn't like someone else before, anyway.
The words, though mumbled softly, caught Loik’s ears with perfect clarity.
“Someone else? Who?”
“His Grace, Duke Kyle.”
Loik’s face went pale at the mention of the familiar name.
Why is that bastard’s name coming up now?
Annette liked Kyle?
But she had clearly said she liked kind people. Kyle’s personality was just as foul as his own—if not worse—and certainly couldn't be called better.
Could it be that she mistook the cringeworthy etiquette of those capital nobles for kindness? Or perhaps…
Was that guy’s chest firm?
He had no reason to store the memory of another man’s pectoral muscles in his mind, but thinking back, the Duke’s physique had been comparable to his own.
No, he’s definitely smaller than me.
Could the reason she asked for a divorce in a year’s time be because of Kyle?
His heart sank at the thought.
If that’s the case, it won’t matter how hard I try to hold on to her.
Loik cupped his chin, trying to hide his trembling hands. He didn't recall seeing anything like this when Perel had investigated Annette’s background.
Had she liked him in secret?
“Did your sister say that? That she likes Kyle?”
He asked as if it were of no consequence, but his voice wavered uncontrollably at the end.
Raphael watched him for a moment, then pouted as if deciding to go easy on him.
“Actually, I don’t know for sure.”
“My sister just said she met him exactly once.”
“Once?”
“The rumors were probably just started by Lady Ladriel anyway,” Raphael added, as if to comfort his brother-in-law, who had turned white as a sheet.
The tension in Loik’s brow relaxed slightly.
If it was only once…
Right now, Loik was in a relationship where he kissed Annette three times a day. A mere "once" couldn't possibly compare.
“And my sister smiles a lot here.”
“Does Annette smile more than she did in the capital?”
The brown head nodded.
“That’s a relief.”
Relieved, Loik stole a glance at his brother-in-law.
“More importantly, about the conversation I had with Count Pacio just now…”
“I’ll keep it a secret,” Raphael said with a shrug, as if granting a great favor. “It’s not exactly something my sister would be happy to hear.”
Technically, Loik was the one who should be reprimanding the boy for the rudeness of eavesdropping on the Grand Duke, but the boy held a powerful weapon: Annette.
Instead of arguing, Loik simply nodded.
“Thank you.”
It had been half a year since Annette arrived in Blenheim. If she had only seen the man once more than six months ago, it was only natural that she wouldn't even remember his face by now.
Still, I should have Perel double-check, just in case.
Loik watched Raphael reach for another cookie, trying his best to push down the lingering anxiety in a corner of his heart.
*
Tiern Vieri stood before the Grand Duchess’s door, hesitating for a long time.
It was ironic; he was here to apologize to her just as he had before. The only differences were that this time he had come voluntarily without his lord’s orders, and his face wasn't bruised.
He took several deep breaths, but he couldn't bring himself to knock. By now, the Grand Duchess must have heard about Marzella and Meisel.
She must be very angry.
He had felt they had grown quite close while he was guarding her. Now, he feared he might be lumped in with the others and earn her resentment.
What if she doesn't even want to see me?
He felt that if he had to face that reality in person, it would be quite hurtful.
Just as Tiern was about to turn away without knocking, the Grand Duchess’s maid suddenly appeared.
“Lady Cecilia.”
Tiern gave a small nod. Of all people, it had to be Norton’s sister. She wasn't someone he particularly wanted to run into given the circumstances.
“What are you doing here, Sir Tiern?”
It would be nice if I could at least find out if she’s recovered…
There was no one else to ask but the maid, anyway.
After a moment’s hesitation, Tiern swallowed his pride and asked, “Is Her Highness the Consort doing well?”
“Yes. They say there’s nothing wrong with her now. Is she not inside? She should be.”
Tiern hurriedly tried to stop Cecilia as she stepped forward, as if telling him to ask her himself.
“No, it’s fine. I didn't mean to disturb Her Highness…”
“Your Highness, Sir Tiern is here!”
Completely ignoring Tiern’s words, Cecilia threw the door open and shouted loudly enough to be heard even in the bedroom.
Does this woman have no tact?
Tiern’s well-groomed eyebrows shot up. He had just signaled that he was going to leave. Furthermore, what kind of maid just bursts through a door like that without knocking?
“Sir Tiern? Tell him to come in.”
Annette’s voice drifted out from inside. The maid held the door wide open with an innocent expression.
“Go on in.”
Biting his lip, Tiern had no choice but to awkwardly shuffle into the room.
After finishing his conversation with the Grand Duchess, he descended the stairs of the main castle feeling somewhat dazed.
— “Why are you apologizing, Sir Tiern? I was the one who asked you to look after Raphael.”
When Tiern offered his apology, the Grand Duchess had widened her eyes in confusion. Instead, she apologized for her own carelessness.
— “I shouldn't have engaged with such a suspicious person. I was too complacent.”
How many times had they gone back and forth saying "I'm sorry" and "It's okay" in front of the Grand Duchess, who insisted she should have been more vigilant?
Then, she had let out a small chuckle.
— “Sir Tiern, you’re the type to dig a lot of holes for yourself, aren't you?”
— “Digging holes?”
Seeing that he didn't understand the expression, she gave him a mischievous smile.
— “Never mind. Stop digging and go get some rest.”
He didn't quite understand what she meant, but at the very least, it was a relief that she didn't seem disappointed in him.
Just as a much lighter-hearted Tiern was about to exit the main castle, a voice called out from behind him.
“Sir Tiern!”
Cecilia was hurrying down the stairs after him. Panting as she reached him, the maid abruptly thrust something toward him.
“Your handkerchief.”
Tiern frowned at the maid who held out her hand without further explanation, but he froze when he saw the yellow crest on the fabric.
“This is…”
It was the gift from the Grand Duchess that he had thrown into the bushes months ago.
“I found it on the path, and I thought it might be yours, Sir Tiern. Is it not?”
Seeing Tiern at a loss for words, Cecilia spoke casually.
“It… appears to be mine.”
His face flushed hot. In truth, he had returned to that path once after the "egg incident" to look for the handkerchief. Naturally, it hadn't been there.
I shouldn't have thrown it away, even in a fit of pique.
He had blamed himself for a long time back then. Of all people, why did it have to be the Grand Duchess’s maid who found it?
And she said she found it… how did she know it was mine?
Did she see me throw it away? Even if she did, that was months ago…
Has she been holding onto it all this time?
“I washed it, but the stain wouldn't come out very well.”
The maid wrinkled her nose slightly with a look of regret. Her face showed no sign of any ulterior motive.
Tiern spoke with genuine sincerity.
“I was actually looking for this… I am in your debt.”
“Make sure to pay me back when you get the chance!”
“Well, I’ll be going now. Keep up the good work!”
Turning with a refreshed expression, the maid marched back up the stairs.
Tiern watched her retreating figure, his brow furrowed in a confusion he couldn't quite smooth away.