Chapter 52
Lent.
Lionel felt, for a rare moment, as if his mind had turned sluggish.
He couldn’t fathom why that expression came up in this context.
Like gears with missing teeth that failed to mesh, Agnes’s words were somehow out of alignment.
“…….”
Even after that, Agnes’s voice continued softly.
However, his lack of understanding remained the same.
“Because there is no way you would have given such a fine thing entirely to me.”
Lionel’s gaze moved slowly.
His eyes, cast in deep shadows, turned slowly toward Agnes.
Within them, his emerald-clear, deep blue pupils glittered darkly.
Agnes was said to be a woman who couldn’t resist luxury.
She, who supposedly could only be satisfied if everything was extravagant, was now speaking like someone who had never owned anything in her life.
The desk he prepared was not an object worthy of such a reaction.
Although it was a custom-made piece with rounded corners so the wheelchair wouldn’t get caught, it wouldn’t even rank as high-end compared to the expensive furniture used by nobles.
And yet. Agnes was acting as if she had received an incredibly precious treasure.
Now that he thought about it, he hadn’t seen her purchase anything since she began staying at the Duke’s residence.
Lionel’s blue eyes indifferently scanned Agnes’s attire.
Certainly, a dress without a single common ornament did not fit the rumors of her enjoying extravagance.
Unless she was trying to act frugal now, the rumors themselves might have been exaggerated.
‘Even if it’s the latter, it’s not my concern.’
Whatever Agnes’s true nature was, there was no reason for it to affect him.
This was exactly the extent of interest he could afford to give Agnes, who had taken Cedric away.
However, those thoughts evaporated in an instant.
“Duke, thank you so much. I really wanted a desk.”
In that moment. All of Lionel’s movements stopped.
Agnes was smiling.
Truly brightly, like a child.
That smile burst out quietly and filled the room with light.
A low, light sound of laughter mixed with breath spread softly.
Lionel reflexively rubbed the back of his neck.
His throat felt ticklish, as if he had swallowed something wrong.
It wasn’t an unpleasant foreign sensation, but an inexplicable, minute warmth.
Tuk.
It felt as if this strange sensation would subside if he just spat out a single word.
However, Lionel did not know what he wanted to say.
The suspicion regarding his subtly misaligned conversation with Agnes from a moment ago had long been forgotten.
Lionel, who kneaded the back of his neck a few more times like a thirsty man, pulled a file containing several portraits from the desk drawer.
“I have secured montages of Rebelt members, so check them.”
Since it was just the time to inform Agnes of the harvest obtained from the North, Lionel used that as a pretext to speak.
Beneath the dozen or so portraits, brief personal details and unit numbers were written.
Agnes’s hand, which was turning the pages, stopped at the very last one.
Her light gray eyes shook violently for a moment.
‘This person is…….’
The man with the solid impression in the drawing was familiar.
The operational commander of the Sercadia 5th Brigade.
On the day she was heading toward Lieck Base, he was the very man who had tried to seize the carriage.
The one who had saved Chloe while holding a gun stamped with the seal of the Bardo trading company.
“I had a hunch because the face of the fellow we captured during the last terror attack was familiar; it turns out some of those who belonged to the Sercadia military units survived and crawled into the capital.”
A look of weariness briefly crossed Lionel’s face.
“You should take a good look at these faces as well. Just in case.”
Agnes could not take her eyes off that paper for a long time.
However, Lionel, who did not perceive that change, picked up an envelope placed at the top of the pile of mail Simon had brought.
Sssk—.
a paper knife smoothly sliced through the envelope stamped with a red seal.
It was an invitation to the Eve Festival.
“Now that I think about it, Nora must have mentioned the Eve Festival attendance to you.”
“Yes, I heard about it during today’s lesson.”
“There is nothing for you to prepare. Nora will take care of everything anyway.”
Lionel muttered as if in passing.
“Since you can’t dance anyway, you won’t need a dance instructor.”
The words were uttered without any intention, but Lionel’s indifference became a dagger that pierced Agnes’s heart.
A deep sorrow spread through Agnes’s eyes.
‘Oops.’
This time, even Lionel, whose emotions were dull, could tell roughly which line those words had touched.
However, words of apology did not come from his mouth.
Instead, Lionel changed the subject by regularly tapping the handle of the paper knife with his index finger, tuk, tuk.
“How is the trading company business? It looked like there was a lot to process; is it manageable? Is there anything I can help with?”
“……?”
Agnes tilted her head for a moment at the sudden question.
But she soon smiled softly, pressing her wounded heart down below.
“It’s enough with just my own strength for now. If I need help later, I will certainly tell you. Thank you for your concern.”
Concern.
At that expression, Lionel’s expression wavered subtly.
“You certainly have many things to be thankful for.”
Lionel, who replied casually, looked down at his indoor clothes.
Now that he thought about it, he had been repeating quite inefficient tasks for some time.
Upon returning to the mansion, he headed to the bathroom first to erase the smell of gunpowder clinging to his body,
And the radio no longer rang inside the mansion.
Because of that, all reporting and business processing were carried out in an archaic manner.
Even though it was a waste of both time and efficiency, he did so.
It was because of Agnes.
He had never bothered to look for a reason.
He thought he just didn’t want to be bothered, as it would be troublesome if Agnes collapsed again.
But looking back, that wasn’t everything.
In terms of being bothered, the things he was doing now were actually more troublesome.
Then why was he doing these things without even questioning the reason?
Lionel dwelled on what Agnes had said a moment ago.
‘Concerned……, me, for Agnes Bardo?’
He should have scoffed at it as an absurd idea.
Yet, for some reason, words of denial did not readily come out.
The space between Lionel’s brows, where his high bridge began, slowly narrowed.
His expression was frozen, like someone witnessing their own weakness for the first time.
Bang!
A dry gunshot tore through the training ground.
Instead of the sound of impact, only a hollow echo returned.
The bullet was lodged far from the target.
Lionel lowered the pistol and stared at
the target with a terrifying intensity.
Kalt, who was watching it all, could
not hide his surprise.
It was the first time he had seen Lionel so disarrayed, even though they had shared a long military life.
Since spending time with Agnes in the evening, Lionel had been in this state the entire time.
“Colonel, is something troubling you?”
“No.”
Lionel slowly rotated his stiff shoulder.
An unnatural movement traveled up the back of his neck like pain.
“Have you perhaps not fully recovered from your injury yet?”
“It’s almost healed, so don’t make a fuss.”
It was the shoulder injured during the Grand Theater terror attack.
the wound that should have closed was constantly festering.
So, whenever he was about to forget it, it throbbed and grated on his nerves. Like the existence of Agnes that kept popping up unexpectedly, it was a nuisance.
“Damn it.”
An unrefined curse slipped out.
It was Agnes again.
Without realizing it, everything keeps concluding with Agnes.
Exactly since when had it been like that?
Lionel emptied the casings and loaded new bullets.
Veins bulged on the back of his hand as he applied pressure to the barrel.
The air of the office he shared with Agnes still remained in his head.
The fact that he was conscious of Agnes.
Was the irritation in his throat he felt lately because of that?
He already knew he was attracted to Agnes. From that night he held that small body. No, from the moment he faced her again as an adult.
But so what.
What exactly was it that he wanted?
Did he want to play at being lovers with Agnes like ordinary people?
Betraying his dead brother?
Lionel took a breath.
In that sigh, loathing and anger were mixed.
The direction it faced seemed to be Agnes, seemed to be all of Bardo, and eventually seemed to be himself.
Lionel raised the gun again.
“…….”
He straightened his shoulders, steadied his breath, and pulled the trigger in succession.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Fierce rupturing sounds burst consecutively, tearing through the private room.
This time, every bullet accurately pierced the center of the target.
Smoke rose from the muzzle.
Lionel could not release his finger from the trigger for a long while after that.
His misplaced anger turned toward a round object thrown at his feet.
“Mmm, mgh!”
A muffled scream was crushed into the sandy floor of the training ground.
Lionel slowly looked down at his feet.
There lay the Minister of Finance of Sercadia, captured during this Northern expedition, prostrated on the ground.
Capturing this man alive was an unexpected harvest.
Who would have imagined that a high-ranking official of a fallen nation would still remain in those ruins?
Usually, they either fled, took their own lives, or survived dirtily. It was one of the three.
And, apparently, this man had chosen the last option.
The middle-aged man, with half his head bald, had a complexion so good it was hard to believe he was an official of a defeated nation.
When the gag was removed, a scent mixed with the smell of alcohol and spices spread from his breath.
They had merely made eye contact, but the half-bald Finance Minister fluttered like a freshly caught fish.
“I—I told you everything! I was just waiting for asylum!”
The shadow of a dark military boot slowly loomed over his face.
Lionel leaned down without a word.
“Look, I’m feeling a bit foul right now. So you had better answer well.”
The long barrel of the revolver propped up the Finance Minister’s chin.
“Who was supposed to help you with your asylum?”
The cheeks of the Finance Minister, forced to face Lionel, trembled violently.
“The—The Empire. They said someone from the Eschwald Empire would come to help with the asylum!”
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