She Was a Woman
On the floor, scattered alongside the helmet, were other pieces of armor such as metal greaves and gauntlets. They were items he had instructed others not to touch because he would maintain them himself, and so they had been left untouched.
The Duke spoke grumpily as he polished his steel helmet.
“This older brother of yours intends to devote himself to the goddess once he turns forty.”
“Insane talk.”
“The only one who would recognize the pure soul inside this filthy body of mine seems to be the Moon Mother alone.”
It sounded like a joke, but half of it was sincere.
His younger brother completely ignored the older one’s grumbling.
“I’m not telling you to go out and seduce some extraordinary woman. I’m saying at least glance at the table that’s already been set for you.”
His brother was the frustrating sort of man who, because of his endless talk of “true love,” had never formed a relationship with any woman or even attempted to do so. When it came to romance, he always lived with the attitude of a perpetual loser.
“Even if she’s a poor girl from a rural estate, as long as her character is upright, what does bloodline or background matter? If she’s struggling financially, that could actually make it easier to approach her by offering support. I’m telling you to look for a modest, frugal woman, not a flashy, extravagant one. In all this vast land, there can’t possibly be only one such woman, can there?”
With his title, wealth, and lineage, the Duke was a man who lacked nothing. Therefore, what he needed to gain through marriage was not the influence of in-laws or political ties.
“That’s enough, Dero. I’ve told you many times. I have no desire to marry. Flirting with women is not my hobby.”
Whenever the Duke wanted to dodge a conversation, he would deliberately adopt a playful tone and use nicknames. But to Desidero, who had to listen to it, the words often made his stomach turn.
“Who wants to watch you date? You need an heir, don’t you?”
The successor who would follow Nyx Farrow. That was the one and only thing Desidero wanted.
“Marriage is difficult enough, and now you want a son…”
The Duke of Farrow muttered in an embarrassed tone. He believed that if an heir was needed to continue the family line, his father could simply produce another one.
“Once Father returns, the succession issue will resolve itself naturally. He can take a young wife and give us a healthy younger brother…”
“And the man who thinks like that picked a fight with the crown prince?”
“When did I pick a fight? That bastard started it first.”
At the mention of the crown prince, the Duke flared up.
Originally, Nyx had traveled this far to meet the king. He had come to ask for help in rescuing his father, who was being held prisoner in enemy territory. But the king, overwhelmed by state affairs, had been unable to attend even his own daughter’s wedding. The crown prince who attended in his place was the sort of man who would cause more trouble than help for Nyx.
When their father was mentioned, Desidero’s sarcasm grew even sharper.
“And the man who thinks like that didn’t even attend the banquet?”
“…I sent gifts.”
“What’s the point of preparing so many gifts? You know perfectly well how insignificant and wasteful a present becomes when the recipient doesn’t receive it in person.”
As his younger brother’s expression grew increasingly ferocious, the older brother’s voice shrank. Though the boy was nearly ten years younger, he was the only person who could make the man falter.
“Don’t burden yourself too much over this. Even if things don’t go well and we fail to rescue Father, if he cannot return alive, then we must accept it as the fate of our father and son.”
Dying an unfortunate death in prison because the ransom could not be paid was a common occurrence for conquering monarchs who led campaigns in person. Moreover, the other side had set an absurd precondition for his return without even providing proof of life or death, so in truth Nyx was not holding out much hope.
Their demand was the return of Lichfield, which Nyx Farrow had seized. But that territory had already been dedicated to the temple, and the reclaimed holy land received special protection.
He was considering negotiating with other lands near Lichfield, but that would require agreement from the royal family and the other lords.
“Either way, it won’t be easy.”
The man muttered.
In truth, his affection for his father was not particularly deep. Loyalty was another matter.
Desidero, on the other hand, was closer to outright dislike. It was only natural, since their father had treated him as if he did not exist from the moment of his birth.
His biological mother had died giving birth to him, and the only person Desidero considered family was his brother, Nyx.
Perhaps because of that, the boy was even more obsessed with Nyx Farrow’s authority and reputation than Nyx himself.
“Father rots to death in prison, older brother dies without an heir… Then what? You expect me to simply watch as the title passes to someone else?”
The young man asked, his voice icy.
If Nyx failed to leave a direct descendant and the main line was severed, all the Farrow family’s wealth and title would pass to their uncle. Although the Duke of Farrow constantly strode through the heart of battle, he was still young; the title would most likely go to his cousin, the uncle’s son, rather than the uncle himself.
The Duke spoke with regret, as if he had never considered that point.
“Right. I forgot I was supposed to leave you a substantial inheritance before I die. The moment we return to Loudhill, I must write a will. It’s peaceful now, but I never know when I’ll be called back to the front lines.”
“Brother!”
“Freed, if it ever looks like I’ve completely forgotten this conversation, remind me.”
Even as the Duke tapped his temple with a finger, solemnly promising he would never forget, he sought a witness for this verbal will. Freed gave a silent, perfectly upright nod. He remained standing steadfastly behind Desidero, unmoving as always.
His younger brother glared at the older one for derailing the topic, but soon regained his composure and spoke.
“You may have failed, but I have not. I finally found one.”
“Found one?”
When the Duke of Farrow asked again, the boy gave a meaningful smile. He turned to the servant standing behind him and issued an order.
“Freed, go bring Ranlam.”
The servant nodded silently once more. After a light bow, he left Desidero’s side to carry out the command, opening the door and stepping out. The only person left confused was the Duke of Farrow.
“You found someone?”
“That’s right.”
Desidero answered smugly.
In truth, the two of them had come to Saltcoast for entirely different reasons from the start. Desidero had no interest in their father’s situation. The boy had heard a rumor of a skilled herbalist in this place and had followed the trail all the way here.
Desidero wanted to cure his brother’s skin disease by any means possible. If it would allow the man to rebuild his shattered self-esteem, the young man was willing to crawl through every corner of Bigland to find a solution. This was not the first time. He had tracked down every renowned physician in Bigland and dragged them before the Duke of Farrow.
“You can truly look forward to this one.”
The boy always said that.
The trigger had come when he heard that the daughter of Lady Mentos, who had contracted leprosy, had been completely cured. The rumor contained some exaggeration, but the facts that the young daughter of the Mentos family had suffered severely and benefited from a certain healer’s medicine were undeniable.
Desidero had even visited Lady Mentos to obtain more information. He confirmed that the apothecary was particularly skilled with skin ailments, but unfortunately she had been reluctant to share anything further.
“There was a reason Lady Mentos kept quiet. I wondered why such a capable doctor wasn’t more widely known… She was Tilamin.”
The young man brought up the slightly uncomfortable fact with a tone that suggested it weighed on him. The Duke’s reaction was exactly as expected.
“Tilamin?”
The man frowned. No matter that it had been done for treatment, if any pagan procedures had taken place during the process, it was certainly something to be condemned. It was understandable that she would be too ashamed to tell others.
Desidero had barely managed to learn that the apothecary lived in Saltcoast. And finally, the network of eyes and ears he had scattered throughout the region had located the person.
Knock, knock. Just then, the servant’s polite knuckles rapped against the door.
“Come in.”
Desidero spoke in a welcoming voice loud enough to carry beyond the door. The large drawing-room door opened. Following the upright servant, a woman stepped inside with graceful, quiet steps.
She was a woman with long, luscious, jet-black wavy hair.
She was a woman whose red cheeks seemed as if they would carry the fragrance of roses.
She was a woman who was short and petite.
She was a woman.
…A woman.
Nyx Farrow stopped the hand that was polishing his helmet and froze like a mouse that had encountered a cat.