Chapter 93
Chapter 93
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 93
Chapter Title: Cligrove Count
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Cligrove Count
"Inside the mansion, you have to take off your helmet. What do you plan to do?"
As we walked through the mansion, I asked Hilia, and she paused for a moment before saying she'd remove it. Ever since arriving in my territory, she'd been sneaking it off when no one was watching, and now that we were here, she must have figured there was no chance of getting caught.
Once she took off the helmet, her red hair cascaded down. It used to be a short bob that barely reached her neck, but now it had grown long enough to brush her shoulders.
"Your hair's gotten really long. You thinking of cutting it?"
"I'm... not sure. What... do you think, Viscount?"
"Just let it grow. It's beautiful hair, after all."
It wasn't just flattery—her hair was stunning. Not just any red, but a vivid crimson that gleamed with a silky sheen, whether from good care or natural luck. Honestly, it would be a shame to cut it.
"...I'll grow it out."
I didn't know what vision she'd seen in that cave, but her eyes, which had seemed so lifeless lately, sparkled once more.
Of course, she was a woman who'd suffered growing it out just to pass as a man. Now that I'd given her permission to let it grow, she was probably thrilled.
As Hilia and I strolled down the mansion's corridor, I asked the maids about what had been on my mind. I needed to do some groundwork before meeting the count if I wanted to stay on his good side.
"What's the count like?"
"He's a truly wonderful man!"
"He even does charity work for the poor!"
"The food shelf out front for the needy was always fully stocked!"
The maids clearly thought highly of him, chattering brightly with wide smiles as they answered.
Just before we entered the room, they polished our armor to a mirror shine with a cloth.
"We'll take your sword."
"Appreciate it."
After handing over my sword, the maids pulled open the door. It glided silently without a creak. Inside, a man I presumed was the Cligrove Count and Lenia were watching us.
"Who might you be?"
The portrait I'd seen before had captured him perfectly. Blue eyes, dull blond hair, sharp features.
The main difference? He looked far more haggard in person. The count fixed his piercing blue eyes on me.
"Viscount Lucas Kyle, my lord. And this is my squire, the noble-born Rahil."
I bowed as low as I could, and he gave a slight smirk before gesturing for the maids to leave.
For a fleeting moment... his eyes lit up as they flicked to Hilia beside me. Just a split second.
"So you're that Viscount Lucas. Come in. Don't just stand there."
As we entered the room, a thick medicinal scent like an apothecary's hung in the air. Without hesitation, I strode forward and knelt before the count.
"I pay homage to the true lord of Cligrove. Glory to Cligrove."
"You're even bigger than the stories say. That's enough with the formalities. If my daughter's words are true, I needn't doubt your loyalty."
Once I took my seat, the count resumed whatever conversation he'd paused. I studied his face. At a glance, aside from the exhaustion, he seemed fine—but closer inspection revealed his complexion was dire.
I'd seen that pallor before. On villagers dying of plague, or slum-dwellers starving in the streets.
In other words, by his color alone, the count could drop dead tomorrow and it wouldn't surprise anyone. Right then, he covered his mouth with a handkerchief and let out a dry cough.
"My time is short."
"Father."
Lenia's brow furrowed at his bombshell, but the count's expression didn't change.
"No one knows their own body better than themselves."
"The curse is lifted now. With some rest..."
He shook his head at my words.
"No, it's been too long since the curse took hold. It's been eating away at me."
The curse's lingering energy had gnawed at his vitality, and lying bedridden so long had sapped even his strength to endure it. The count, tormented for so long, seemed to have let go of any attachment to life. Or so I thought—until his demeanor shifted.
"But before I go, this must be settled."
For an instant, I swore his eyes flashed blue. The aura from this near-death old man was unbelievable—like facing a predator. He glared at me with feral intensity.
"What are your intentions with my daughter?"
"Pardon?"
His sudden question drew a dumbfounded reply from me before I could stop it.
"I asked what your relationship is with my daughter."
"Relationship? Lady Lenia and I are lord and vassal..."
Thud!
The count slammed his cane on the floor.
"Don't test my patience. If that were all, my Lenia wouldn't speak your name like that."
Lenia's cheeks flushed faintly at his words. What exactly had she said? Anyway, the count glared at me, eyes blazing as if accusing me of seducing his daughter.
A heavy silence filled the room. Me, the count, Lenia, even Hilia—we all held our tongues. The count broke it first. After downing a cup of tea, he spoke calmly, seemingly composed.
"At first, I wondered what scoundrel had charmed my daughter. Your exploits suggested you might be worthy, but you never really know a man till you see him."
"..."
"I'll ask again. What is your relationship with my daughter?"
I fell silent for a moment. Then I began recounting our past—from when I was John and she was Ren.
"I see..."
By the time I finished, a faint smile played on the count's lips. He bowed his head to me.
"Sorry if my interrogation upset you."
"Not at all! How could I dare think such a thing?"
The tension eased, and we chatted amiably over tea. Truth be told, I'd been a bit scared. I half-expected the count to snap, grab my collar, and demand how a nobody like me dared seduce his daughter.
"Then we'll see you at the evening party. You're dismissed."
With the count's order, only he and Lenia remained.
"You've set your sights on a fine man."
"Y-Yes..."
Lenia's cheeks burned red at his words, and the count felt a weight lift. His earlier claim about his short time left had been sincere.
The curse was broken, but his body had reached its limit long ago. That's why he wanted to pass the title to Lenia while he still drew breath.
"Tonight, I'll hand the title to you."
"Father, if you rest, you could recover fully..."
"No, as I said, I know my body best. I'm just grateful to have time even for this. And... if your heart is set, I'll write to him tonight."
Lenia eyed him quizzically at the sudden mention of writing to Kyle. The count chuckled softly.
"The engagement."
"Father!"
She yelped, face scarlet, and the count laughed heartily. His daughter, who'd never raised her voice to him, had finally done so.
And she hadn't said no. With that thought, he began writing the letter that evening, hands trembling.
The whole city of Cligrove blazed with light—every district except the slums ablaze with lanterns.
Normally, only the main avenue was lit, so this extravagance was obvious: to bleed the nobles dry who'd flocked here on news of the count's awakening.
Meanwhile, in the garden outside my window, young nobles laughed and mingled, eyes darting eagerly. It was desperate matchmaking.
"If it wouldn't be rude, might we speak privately over there...?"
"I'm the eldest son of Baron Harding..."
They were frantic. Miss this chance, and who knew when another would come? How often did Cligrove host massive parties like this twice in under a year?
Knock knock!
As I watched their pitiful pursuits from the window, someone knocked.
"Come in."
The door opened, and a young maid entered, holding a letter. She bowed and handed it to me.
"A letter from the count, sir. He said to read it before the party."
"I see. Thank you."
I unfolded it. It wasn't the count's words, but a father's heart for his precious daughter.
There was advice at the end—why was I dragging around a duke's daughter? For appearances' sake, send her away soon—mixed with some scolding.
"Engagement, huh..."
I'd never considered it. Not since my first marriage in this world ended in failure.
Just days of fighting for success, pandering to superiors. In my reminiscence, Lenia's shy face flashed by.
"Engagement..."
Marrying the count's daughter wasn't a light decision. It'd snag me with territory management again.
But setting that aside, Lenia was an excellent match. Her skills alone proved it.
In noble houses, the lady's role was crucial—managing the territory in the lord's absence.
And one who handled both military and internal affairs? Loyal from her vassals? Top-tier wife. Even if enemies invaded while I was away, she'd smash their skulls herself.
"Guess I'll have to marry someday anyway."
With that, I decided to accept the proposal.
Knock knock!
Just as I resolved on this sudden engagement, another knock came.
"I'll be right out."
Probably another maid, I thought casually—but silence outside. Sensing something off, I rose and opened the door. There stood Lenia.
"Lenia...?"
Her shy expression hit me first. No one else around—she'd come alone.
"May I come in?"
I stepped aside hastily. As she passed, a faint floral scent wafted. Lenia had dressed with clear effort.
Hair cascading to her waist, styled naturally to accent its beauty; a pure white dress embroidered with delicate flowers; sky-blue velvet and ribbons adorning it; a feathered hat atop her head. She looked like a single lily.
"I got ready to go to the party with you tonight."
Feeling my gaze, she met my eyes and said so.