Chapter 13: The Stranger’s Name
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 13: The Stranger’s Name
Herdin stared at her hand, then swallowed a sigh and rose from his seat.
“…Rest.”
Contract. Contract. Contract.
From the way she couldn’t open her mouth without mentioning the contract, it seemed his wife-in-name-only had decided to stake her life on their one-year agreement.
He didn’t know why that fact, something that had been decided before they were even married, was suddenly striking him so forcefully—or why it was so damn irritating.
Herdin ran a hand through his bangs in frustration and left the room. Ruth was waiting for him outside.
“That hypnotist. Fire him.”
At his master's quiet command, Ruth's eyes widened in surprise.
“What? But you told me to have him stay on.”
“Find a new one. He seems like a quack.”
Herdin walked past Ruth, heading back toward his office. “And that maid from the Imperial Palace,” he added, “tell her to come to my office.”
Recalling the maid Herdin was referring to, Ruth's expression hardened. It was the woman who always watched everyone in the Ducal Mansion with eyes full of hostility. He had never exchanged a single word with her, but her gaze alone made him want to keep his distance.
“Th-that woman? Why?”
Herdin’s cold gaze fell upon Ruth in response to his question.
One did not question the master's orders.
“…I will carry out your command.”
Ruth gave a stiff, formal bow—a gesture he rarely used—and departed.
* * *
Suddenly summoned to Herdin's office, Lina fidgeted with her fingers, her eyes fixed on his desk. She avoided looking at his handsome face, the same face other maids would stop and stare at, mesmerized, if they passed him in the hall. She couldn’t fathom why he had called for her out of the blue.
The only thought that came to mind was the ridiculous suspicion, Don't tell me he heard me cursing him in my head!
But there was no reason to be scared.
The one in the wrong was the Duke, who had abandoned his bride after their first night—not her, who had served Blair with utmost devotion.
Just as Lina was straightening her slumped shoulders, Herdin removed the cigar from his lips and spoke.
“I hear you've served my wife for quite some time.”
Contrary to her resolution not to be intimidated, Lina jumped and stammered, “Y-Yes! That's right.”
“The fireplace in her room is never lit. Is it because Blair is afraid of fire?”
On their first night, the fireplace in Blair's room had been unlit, despite the weather being cold enough for snow. At the time, he had simply assumed she didn't like stuffy air. But the moment he saw Blair suffering today, confronted by the memory dredged up through hypnosis, he had a sudden realization.
“Ah, yes. That's why we try to warm the room when she is away and put it out when she is present. She's fine as long as she doesn't get too close, but it still seems to make her uncomfortable.”
“Because of the incident ten years ago?”
“I believe so. She has never spoken of it directly, but…”
“And her chronic cough?”
“Yes. I was told her respiratory system was weakened as a lingering effect of the accident.”
So that was it.
Having received his confirmation, Herdin's lips twisted.
“You may leave.”
The office door clicked shut behind Lina.
As Herdin unconsciously went to put the cigar back in his mouth, the sound of Blair's cough echoed in his mind, followed by the image of her dazed, tear-filled eyes looking up at him just a short while ago.
He let out an irritated sigh and set the cigar back down. Then, he leaned back in his chair and shut his eyes in frustration.
The sunlight flickering through his closed eyelids was grating, reminding him of her fine, platinum-blonde hair.
* * *
The next day, Blair was bedridden with a fever.
“Sometimes, when people experience a great shock, their immune system weakens, and they fall ill. It seems this is likely the case for the Madam,” the attending physician offered his diagnosis before leaving.
Herdin, who had come upon hearing the news, stared down at the sleeping Blair with a bewildered expression.
How can a person be this weak?
A woman's body was naturally more delicate than a man's, but even accounting for that, his wife seemed far more fragile than the average person.
“Please call if you need anything.”
Lina, sensing that Herdin would not be leaving right away, quietly exited the room.
He watched the sleeping Blair intently. Amidst the peaceful scene, the frail woman looked to be in great distress, her feverish breaths escaping in soft pants through her slightly parted red lips.
After standing there for some time, Herdin approached the bedside. He pressed the back of his hand to her cheek, which was flushed with fever. The breath that escaped her small lips, barely brushing his skin, was still warm, but the heat had lessened. The fever reducer seemed to be working.
Just as Herdin was pulling his hand away with a soft sigh…
“…el.”
A faint voice whispered into the silence.
Herdin glanced at her lips. Blair's fine brow furrowed as if in pain, and her small lips moved with difficulty.
“Asiel…”
The sorrowful voice, uttered with a sob, drifted through the quiet room. His hand, which had been drawing back, froze.
Hearing the unfamiliar name fall from her lips, he was suddenly reminded of how obsessed Blair was with the “contract.” Only then did all her actions make sense.
Asiel.
It must be the name of a lover she adored so much that she dreamed of him, so much that she was willing to relive that horrific memory just to fulfill their agreement.
So her claim that she didn't believe in love was just a lie to hide her true objective? To hide the existence of her precious lover, afraid I might expose him to the world?
Herdin let out a derisive laugh and stood up. The hypothesis he had previously dismissed had now taken shape. Whoever that fool was who'd fearlessly fallen into a forbidden love with an Imperial Princess, it was none of his business.
And yet, the name falling from her lips bothered him. He told himself it was only because he found the woman who had deceived him so thoroughly pathetic. The fact that the name just so happened to belong to a Delmark ancestor probably played a part, too.
Herdin left the room at once.
Ruth, who had just come looking for him, was startled to come face-to-face with his master. Though Herdin always wore a cold expression, he was now icier than ever before.
While Ruth hesitated, taken aback by his aura, Herdin spoke first.
“What is it?”
“Baroness Sionel sent a catalog.”
Baroness Sionel was, in name and in reality, considered the greatest fashion designer in the Ardel Empire. Born a commoner, she was an incredible talent whose skills had been recognized by the Grand Empress Dowager Katrina, who had even bestowed a title upon her. She had been scheduled to visit the Ducal Mansion today to create formal attire for the upcoming New Year's Festival, but the appointment had been canceled when Blair fell ill. The servant sent to deliver the news had returned with a catalog instead.
Herdin took the catalog Ruth handed him.
“She asked if you could choose the fabric first, so she can procure any hard-to-find materials in advance.”
Opening the catalog revealed small sample swatches of fabric. Next to them, the pros, cons, and price of each were written in small print.
Herdin closed the catalog and handed it back to Ruth.
“I don't care which one. Tell her to procure a fabric that's good for keeping warm.”
For Duke Delmark, whose wealth rivaled that of the Imperial Family, the price of fabric was of no concern.
* * *
A few days later, once Blair's condition improved, Herdin brought in a new hypnotist. She was a woman in her mid-thirties with a gentle demeanor and was said to be from one of the House of Delmark's vassal families.
The woman, who introduced herself as Agnes Lorellain, explained her plan to Blair.
“For those who have lost their memories due to a great shock, trying to forcefully retrieve them can have the opposite effect, causing the memories to become buried even deeper.”
Agnes continued with a gentle smile. “So, rather than rushing to unearth the memories, I intend to start by slowly helping you grow accustomed to that time.”
“How so?”
“First, once a week, would you have tea with me and tell me stories from your childhood? Any story will do.”
Blair faced Agnes with her usual calm expression, but beneath the table, her fingers fidgeted with the hem of her dress. Agnes's proposed method was too slow.
There was only one reason she was so obsessed with finding her memories: she had to find them before she conceived Asiel. If she became pregnant before ending this contract marriage, Herdin would find out. Besides, her body grew ill every time she tried to access her memories; she couldn't risk it once she was carrying a child.
She had a little over half a year until the conception needed to happen. It was a tight schedule, even just to wrap everything up here and prepare to leave.
Lost in thought, Blair couldn't bring herself to respond. Her hand rested on the table, her fingers tracing the rim of her teacup.
As if reading her mind, Agnes said, “Please, don't be too hasty. I will be sure to help you find your memories. Just relax, trust me, and follow my lead.”
Her gentle gaze held an irresistible power.
Can I really talk about personal things with a stranger?
She was reluctant, but strangely, she felt no urge to refuse.
“Alright.”
Seeing Blair finally nod in agreement, Agnes smiled brightly.
“I look forward to hearing your stories, Madam. By listening to them, I get to glimpse another life.”
Just as the two were scheduling their next tea time, they sensed a presence behind them.