Chapter 110: Over a Mere Woman
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 110: Over a Mere Woman
“Your Grace.”
It was Mason.
When Herdin gave a slight nod toward Ruth, Ruth stepped forward and opened the office door.
“What is it?”
“I tried to handle it myself, Your Grace, but the elders have been coming by every few days.”
Ruth’s expression stiffened.
So that was why they’d been so quiet lately.
He had wondered why the elders—who should have stormed in to badger Herdin about his marriage the moment rumors about Blair started spreading—had been so silent. He hadn't realized Mason had been blocking them this whole time.
But meeting with Herdin right now was a terrible idea.
The elders, consumed by their ambition to make their own granddaughters the next Duchess, were not the type to act with tact. There was no way Herdin would listen to them quietly.
Especially now. Herdin was an active volcano that could erupt at any moment.
Ruth anxiously studied his lord’s expression.
Listening to Mason with his usual cold face, Herdin asked, “Are they outside now?”
“For now, I have them waiting at the entrance, just as you previously ordered.”
“I’ll go out.”
As Herdin stood, Ruth looked at him in confusion. “You aren’t bringing them inside?”
“Uninvited guests require no hospitality.”
Herdin replied, pouring himself a glass of whiskey from the desk before walking out of the office.
Hearing this, Ruth recalled how Herdin had threatened the elders months ago when they had dropped by unannounced. ‘If you show up without warning again, I will leave you standing outside.’ Ruth was utterly dumbfounded.
I can't believe he's actually doing it.
Mason also seemed taken aback by Herdin’s refusal to let the elders into the mansion, but neither of them dared to object.
Wetting his throat with whiskey, Herdin spoke to Ruth, who was hurrying to keep up. “If your work is finished, go home for the day.”
“Ah, well… I have something to ask you later.”
“Then ask me now.”
“Ah, no. I’ll wait.”
In truth, he had no real business with him. He simply had an ominous feeling that leaving Herdin alone with the elders would lead to disaster.
Mason seemed to share the same concern, as he followed Herdin alongside Ruth.
When the three of them reached the mansion’s entrance, they saw three carriages waiting. The elders, who had been waiting inside, emerged upon seeing Herdin and approached him.
“Your Grace, you ought to replace the mansion’s butler. To leave guests standing outside simply because we old men forgot to send word ahead…”
“To treat us this way when he knows full well who we are… That fellow has grown so inflexible with age. Good grief.”
“Let’s go inside and talk. My knees are quite sore after sitting in the carriage for so long.”
As the elders tried to push past them into the mansion, badmouthing Mason right to his face, Herdin, who had been watching them with cold eyes, spoke up.
“I was the one who ordered uninvited guests to be left outside.”
“……What?”
“I believe I made it clear that anyone who arrives unannounced would be left standing outside. It seems your memories are failing you.”
“Ha! Do you truly intend to keep us old men standing out here?”
“Or you could contact me in advance and return another day.”
Over the past month, they had visited the ducal mansion several times, only to return empty-handed because Herdin had been away. If they missed him today, there was no telling when they would get another chance.
The elders hurriedly tried to stop him from leaving.
“Ahem! This is hardly the place for such a conversation. Let us move inside first.”
They patted their knees, subtly using their old age as a shield to urge him inside. But Herdin remained icy, showing no intention of yielding.
“I’ll be the judge of that once I hear what you have to say.” Herdin tilted his glass to wet his lips and asked, “So, what is it? This conversation you speak of.”
After clearing his throat and exchanging glances with the others, one of the elders spoke up. “The position of the Duchess is vacant, is it not?”
Herdin’s hand, which had been idly swirling the amber liquid, froze. A cold, mocking laugh slipped from his lips.
As expected. They hadn’t deviated from his predictions in the slightest.
It was laughable, this tug-of-war between Ivan, who was desperately trying to preserve the marriage for his own reputation, and the vassals, who were trying to seize the position of Duchess in the interim.
“It is time to wrap things up and prepare to welcome a new lady of the house. Only then will those filthy rumors stop tarnishing the name of Delmark.”
“The position of the lady of the house has not been vacant since I married at the end of last year. Surely you haven’t gone senile already.”
“Your Grace!”
“The pregnant Duchess is in poor health and has gone away to recuperate. That is all. The position of the lady of Delmark has never been vacant.”
It had been two months since the rumors began to spread. There wasn't a soul who didn't know that the Duchess had run away in the middle of the night, carrying another man’s child. And there was no way Herdin was ignorant of that fact.
No, he likely knew it better than anyone.
His reaction meant only one thing: he had no intention of divorcing Blair.
Realizing the implication, the elders gasped in horror.
“Do you truly intend to make that child—whose father is entirely unknown—the heir of Delmark?”
The moment the elder finished speaking, a sharp crack echoed through the air. The glass in Herdin’s hand had shattered.
Instantly, the atmosphere froze.
Shards of broken glass dug deep into his palm, drawing crimson blood. But as if the dripping blood belonged to someone else, his eyes were utterly devoid of emotion as he stared at the elders. It was a chilling sight.
“If the child in her womb is not mine, then whose is it?”
His voice, like frost, echoed through the suffocating silence, weighing heavily on them all.
While everyone hesitated, overwhelmed by his oppressive aura, one of the elders stepped forward with determined eyes.
“Does closing your eyes and blocking your ears make it any less true? The rumors are rampant throughout the capital! A wanton girl who takes after her mother, daring to bring in a bastard conceived from sleeping with some lowly wretch—”
The elder was cut off before he could finish.
A knight’s sword, drawn by Herdin in a flash, was now pressed against his throat.
“Say that again.”
“……”
“Who did what with whom?”
The glass shards in his hand dug deeper as he tightened his grip on the hilt, tearing the wound further. Crimson blood ran down the blade, dripping onto the nape of the elder’s neck. For a moment, it looked as if the blood was flowing from the elder’s own throat.
Terrified by the red stain soaking into his clothes, the elder turned pale as a sheet, unable to even breathe.
And yet, Herdin, holding the sword to his throat, had a twisted smile playing on his lips. It was a grotesquely chilling sight.
The elders were not the only ones shocked. Ruth was frozen speechless, witnessing a side of his lord he had never seen before. Herdin had never shown the elders much respect, but this…
He was out of his mind.
Ruth knew he had to stop him, but he was so paralyzed by the overwhelming pressure that he couldn’t utter a word. It was the instinct of the weak.
It was Mason who finally broke the tense atmosphere, which felt as though someone could be killed at any second. He knelt before Herdin.
“Your Grace, the fault is mine for failing to properly attend to our guests. Please, calm your anger.”
Only then did Herdin’s murderous gaze shift from the elder to Mason. At the same time, the suppressed mana swirling around him subsided.
After staring at Mason for a moment, Herdin looked back at the elders and spoke. “Blair Delmark is my wife, the lady of Delmark, and your master. And the child to be born from her womb is undeniably my heir.”
“……”
“If you insult me again, you will forfeit your head.”
Herdin tossed the sword to the ground and turned away.
The elder, having barely escaped with his life, collapsed, gasping for breath.
“To treat us like this… over a mere woman…”
Though the elders’ lamentations echoed behind him, Herdin ignored them and walked back into the mansion. Ruth, snapping out of his daze a moment later, hurried after him.
“Your Grace, please have your hand treated! The wound looks quite severe…”
Ignoring Ruth, Herdin went into the bathroom. Shards of glass were embedded deep in his palm, worsened from when he had gripped the sword. Despite the significant wound, his eyes were completely detached as he watched blood drip onto the floor, as if it were someone else’s injury.
Rather than pain, a question formed in his mind.
If I were dying, would you come?
Soft-hearted and naive as you are, you’d probably rush over, completely unaware it was a trap. Then, I could catch you.
But a physical wound would be healed instantly by a cleric. This wouldn’t be nearly enough.
He entertained thoughts he knew were insane as he finished picking out the shards. Roughly wrapping the wound with a towel, Herdin stepped into the bath. He felt filthy from the alcohol that had splashed on him.
After showering, Herdin returned to his office, only to find two people waiting by the door.
It was Ruth and Miella.
“Hello, Your Grace. I heard you were injured, so I came to see you.”
At her greeting, Herdin’s eyes grew cold. Unaware of Herdin’s feelings toward Miella, Ruth quickly added, “The wound seemed quite deep, so I brought a cleric…”
“Send her back.”
Herdin sighed, roughly brushing his bangs back with his uninjured hand, and turned to leave. At that moment, Miella grabbed his wounded hand.
“It will only take a moment. Just let me look at the wound—”
Herdin slapped her hand away.
As Miella stumbled back, Ruth caught her. Just as he opened his mouth to protest, Herdin cut him off.
“Ruth. My tolerance for your insolence ends here.”
His voice was flat, but it carried an immense weight.
“……My apologies.”
Ruth bit his lip and bowed his head. No matter how much he acted for his lord’s sake, it was overstepping if his lord did not wish it.
Just as Herdin, having settled the matter, was about to enter his office, hurried footsteps echoed from behind him.
It was Caligo.
“Your Grace.”
Entering the office, he delivered the news Herdin had been waiting for.
“Someone claims to have spotted the Duchess in Nerha.”