Chapter 39: Words Have No Power
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 39: Words Have No Power
Blair headed to the greenhouse in the rear garden where Agnes was waiting.
Agnes, who had been reading a book, spotted Blair and stood up to greet her.
"You're looking much better today, Madam."
Though Agnes's words were entirely innocent, Blair felt a sudden, inexplicable pang of guilt.
A month ago, Herdin had confined her to the bedroom, and for ten days, she had barely been able to leave, let alone see Agnes. It was either because Herdin kept her in the bedroom, or because she was so exhausted on the days he was away that she simply slept through them.
When she finally met Agnes after that period, Agnes had remarked with concern, "You've gotten a little thin." Although Mason would never reveal the truth about the master and mistress's private affairs, the comment had still made Blair uneasy.
Of course her complexion was better today. The man who had been disrupting her sleep night after night was gone.
Blair replied, feigning composure.
"Is that so?"
"Yes. Perhaps it's because the weather has warmed up? In any case, I'm glad to see you looking healthy again."
After exchanging pleasantries, the two began chatting about light, everyday topics. Agnes mostly shared small anecdotes about her family, while Blair spoke of Pippi's growth and her feelings about it.
"Today, shall we talk about a memory related to fire? It can be from before the accident or after. It would be even better if it's a memory you can speak of happily, Madam."
Just as Agnes was about to begin the counseling session, Blair interrupted her.
"Um, Lady Lorellain."
"Yes?"
"When do you think we can attempt hypnosis?"
At the sudden question, Agnes’s gaze sharpened as she studied Blair.
"Something must have happened."
Instead of answering, Blair’s eyes wavered. From what Agnes had observed, Blair was a terrible liar.
"May I ask what happened? Of course, only if you feel comfortable sharing."
As Blair hesitated, Agnes added, as if reading her mind, "I won't tell His Grace anything we discuss from now on. It will be our little secret."
Blair had already consented to Agnes reporting the contents of their sessions to Herdin. After all, this counseling was part of uncovering the truth behind the incident from ten years ago.
After a brief hesitation, Blair finally spoke.
"You mentioned that you've served the House of Delmark for a long time, correct?"
"Yes. Both my husband and I were born into vassal families of Delmark."
Even after hearing the answer, Blair remained silent for a long moment before asking cautiously, "What kind of person is the Duke, in your experience?"
In her past life, and now again in this one, she had become his wife. They had spent countless nights together, becoming intimate enough to know the most private parts of one another.
Yet, she still didn't know him.
What is he thinking? Is he truly a man so wicked that he would try to kill me?
She had heard that Agnes was the one who had counseled Herdin ten years ago, when he lost both his parents in a tragic accident. If so, she might know him far better than his own wife did.
"I… still don't really know him."
Staring at her reflection in the teacup, Blair cast her gaze downward. In that moment, she wished no one could see the emotions swirling in her eyes. Not even herself.
* * *
"Your Grace, I'm ba—"
Ruth, who had just opened the office door, furrowed his brow at the thick cigar smoke that billowed out. The entire room was filled with a dense haze.
I thought he was cutting back after getting married.
Herdin was a heavy smoker. He’d seemed to cut back for a while after the wedding, but it hadn't lasted more than a few months before he reverted to his old habits. The smoking had started up again about a fortnight ago.
And he hasn't been sleeping with the Madam since around then, either… Is it just a coincidence?
But it could hardly be a coincidence, since His Grace's temper had also grown remarkably short around that same time.
After a brief thought, Ruth pushed the questions aside. It wasn't his place to pry into his master and mistress's private affairs.
Setting down his cigar, Herdin asked, "How did it go?"
"It went smoothly, just as you wished. The price was negotiated favorably, and the transaction is underway."
"Good work. You may leave."
Seeing the smoke filling the office, Ruth was about to nag him but held his tongue. Herdin was a fairly generous master, but that didn't make him any less intimidating. Whatever the reason for his foul mood, it was best not to displease him.
"Then I shall see you tomorrow."
Gathering his documents, Ruth bowed. Herdin merely nodded in response.
After Ruth left, a profound silence settled over the room, broken only by the ticking of the clock. As Herdin smoked his cigar, his gaze fell upon his desk. Over its neatly organized surface, an afterimage of Blair flickered.
The woman who had lain disheveled across this very desk.
The mere thought of it stirred a desire so intense it was painful, and irritation flared within him.
It had already been a fortnight since he last visited her. Just because she didn't fight back didn't mean he hadn't forced her. Knowing that she was desperately enduring those nights left a sour taste in his mouth.
It was like opening a gift box only to find it empty.
Herdin extinguished his cigar and stood up. Gazing out the window, he caught sight of Blair walking with Agnes, apparently on their way back from the greenhouse.
Suddenly, the image of her tear-streaked face glaring at him flashed in his mind. Her trembling voice echoed in his ears.
I truly, utterly despise you…
Words have no power to wound. A look holds no strength. Therefore, none of it could possibly affect him.
But the look on his wife's face, as if those words and that gaze were some grand assault, had been so absurdly ridiculous. That had to be why he couldn't stop thinking about it.
Just as Herdin turned his gaze away, it happened again.
A sudden wave of nausea washed over him, as if something were tearing through his insides, and his vision went white. At the same time, Blair's face flashed before him.
The Blair in his memory was wearing a wedding dress. However, this was not the wedding he remembered. Beneath the lifted veil, her face was tense with nervousness. She had slightly raised her downcast eyes to meet his, freezing for a moment before hurriedly looking away as if snapping back to her senses.
At the actual wedding, her eyes had been completely devoid of emotion.
The moment Herdin realized this, the memory vanished as if wiped clean by an eraser.
What on earth were these memories? Why did things he had never experienced keep flashing through his mind?
As he tried to compose his chaotic thoughts, a knock sounded.
"Your Grace. May I enter?"
It was Agnes's voice.
"Come in."
Herdin leaned back against the window frame.
Entering the office, Agnes began her report on the day’s counseling session, omitting the part of their conversation she had promised Blair to keep secret. In truth, conveying that conversation might have been helpful for the couple, but she had no intention of doing so. This was a matter between the two of them. Intervening when she wasn't wanted was nothing but arrogance.
Once the report was finished, Herdin, who had been listening in silence, changed the subject.
"There is something I wish to ask you."
"Yes, Your Grace."
"Déjà vu… does that only happen when a similar situation actually occurs?"
Herdin was questioning the sudden memories that had surfaced just before she arrived. Whenever they appeared, his first thought was always that he was experiencing something he had never gone through, yet it felt as if he had. A similar phenomenon was déjà vu.
"Yes. One doesn't experience the sensation until the situation presents itself."
However, since the memories that surfaced were completely unrelated to his current situation, this seemed to be something else entirely. How else was he supposed to understand these flashes of memory?
At that moment, something Blair had once said came to mind.
I… can see the future.
Could it be that, just as she claimed, he too had somehow become able to see the future? Or some illusion?
Herdin quickly closed his eyes in irritation, brushing her voice aside. To think he had actually considered such nonsense, even for a moment. It couldn't be true. It shouldn't be.
Watching him with a puzzled look, Agnes asked, "Is something troubling you?"
"…No, I suppose I've just been a bit tired lately."
"If you ever need my help, please don't hesitate to ask."
"I will. You may leave now."
Agnes bowed and left the office.
Herdin swept his hair back and leaned his throbbing head against the cold windowpane. The cool touch helped soothe the ache slightly. Once his head had cleared, he stood up and headed for the library. There was much he needed to investigate.
* * *
The carriage carrying Agnes arrived at the Lorellain Mansion. The servants and the butler, who had been waiting for her return, greeted her as she stepped down.
"Welcome back, Madam."
However, their expressions were unusually grim. Before Agnes could ask what was wrong, the butler spoke first.
"A guest is waiting for you."
Normally, visiting a noble household required an appointment at least two days in advance, even for family. Since there had been no such notice, this was either an unpleasant guest with no manners or someone who had no need to show her any courtesy at all.
One person came to mind.
"Did someone come from the Imperial Family?"
"Yes. Countess Magrid has arrived."
Agnes's expression stiffened. Every noble in the empire knew that Countess Magrid was Imperial Concubine Katrina's closest lady-in-waiting.
From the moment Blair's counseling began, Herdin had anticipated that Katrina would eventually find out. He had warned Agnes about this in advance.
If the Grand Empress Dowager's people come looking for you, tell them you are conducting counseling for my wife's psychological treatment. Since it's being done for her daughter's sake, they won't be able to say much.
Herdin had added, There is no need to be nervous. Do not forget that Delmark stands behind you.
Recalling his words, Agnes smiled. She was struck anew by the realization that the fragile boy who had lost his parents had grown so much, rising to a position where no one would dare look down on him.
And this man was her lord.
With his words in mind, Agnes headed for the drawing room and commanded the butler, "Bring some tea."