Chapter 57
Meanwhile.
Lionel was heading to the townhouse in Lucebiten to handle the aftermath of the Grand Theater terrorist incident.
Inside the carriage, it was strangely dark despite the midday sun.
“It is reported that Agnes has also headed to the Bel-Air townhouse.”
“Is that so?”
At Kalt’s report, Lionel closed the book he had been reading.
‘She could afford to rest a bit the day after being ill.’
He wasn’t sure whether to call this diligent or stubborn.
Lionel’s head shook slightly from side to side.
Anyway, would he see Agnes at the townhouse then?
‘If that’s the case, it wouldn’t be bad to have dinner before returning, just like last time.’
It was an impulsive thought.
Since Agnes’s expression looked quite good when they ate out the other day, she would likely be pleased if he suggested dining out today as well.
Since she seemed to like flowers, a place with lavish decorations would be fine.
“Look for a decent restaurant nearby. I’ll have dinner there today before returning.”
“Understood. I will make a reservation for one.”
“No, for two.”
Kalt raised his head a beat late.
After a brief silence, an expression that seemed to grasp the meaning flashed across his face.
“I will look for a place that isn’t too formal.”
Only then did Lionel leisurely adjust his sleeves.
It wasn’t bad to have at least one quick-witted subordinate.
It was just as they were nearing the townhouse.
Lionel brought the inside of his wrist to the tip of his nose out of habit.
A faint smell of gunpowder remained.
That smell unpleasantly scratched his lungs.
However, unless she was being embraced, it wasn’t strong enough for Agnes to notice.
‘This should be no problem.’
The moment he looked out the carriage window, his gaze involuntarily stopped at one point.
“There she is.”
Her platinum-blonde hair reflecting the sunlight stood out dazzlingly even amidst the midday crowd.
Before the carriage had fully stopped, Lionel opened the door and stepped out.
However, at that moment, his expression froze strangely.
Kain was beside Agnes.
As if sharing something joyful, Kain, who was chatting amiably, crouched on the ground and let out an exclamation, causing Agnes to burst into a soft laugh.
Watching that made his stomach twist.
It was a laugh she had shown him only twice at most.
And even then, she had barely shown it only after he had offered a bouquet or a desk.
Agnes was giving it to Kain without any price at all.
While mostly she would avoid his gaze as if she had seen something terrifying when looking at him.
“Ha.”
Lionel’s stride widened.
As he approached behind Agnes, he suddenly felt a strange sense of déjà vu at this unfamiliar sight.
Come to think of it, hadn’t there been a similar situation at the Grand Theater?
What was it that I said to Agnes back then when she was with Kain?
“I didn’t expect you to put the suggestion of making a lover into practice so quickly.”
Was that it?
Words not much different from that surged up to his throat even now.
Words that would more than suffice to drive a dagger into Agnes came to mind as naturally as breathing.
A twisted emotion derived from a possessiveness he had felt before began to crawl up from within.
It was not easy watching Kain and Agnes together.
However, Lionel suppressed the words that had risen to the root of his tongue and stepped right behind Agnes.
“For someone who was ill, your face looks quite good.”
After uttering those words, he felt the inside of his throat go cold and dry without realizing it.
“Oh?”
Agnes turned around as if startled.
But soon, she smiled brightly, her eyes curving into half-moons.
“Duke……! What brings you here?”
In an instant, Lionel had to undergo a truly ridiculous experience.
The irritation that had been seething until the back of his neck felt hot quieted down, if only for a moment.
Though it was a mere fleeting second.
Under the crumbling sunlight, seeing her gentle eyes curve with affection was beautiful.
Indisputably.
They say it is human instinct to be drawn to beautiful things. Is his current state not exactly like that?
As expected, that face was the problem.
Lionel realized for the first time in decades that he was weak to aesthetic things.
And that brought about a very foul mood. It was because he felt like a wretchedly pathetic human being.
Agnes, seeing Lionel’s gaze sink darkly, hurriedly explained the situation before any needless
misunderstanding could occur.
“I came because of the Grand Theater contract and happened to run into Kain, so we were just saying hello. I was just about to wrap up and head back.”
Kain stood up, nodded, and stood beside Agnes.
“That is correct. Your Grace. My grandmother is the owner of the Grand Theater.”
However, the only thing entering Lionel’s ears was the word ‘Kain.’
It was a name that had bothered him before.
Now it was unpleasant to the point of being unbearable.
Agnes and Kain standing side by side looked like a perfectly matched pair of lovers.
‘Anyone would think he’s the husband.’
When that thought flashed by, Lionel grabbed the handle of Agnes’s wheelchair.
As if pushing Kain’s hand away, he pulled it strongly toward himself.
When Agnes turned her head in surprise, Lionel whispered low into her ear.
“Lionel.”
“……Pardon?”
“Call me Lionel. Not that garbage title.”
His lips were close enough to graze her earlobe.
At the breath touching her skin, Agnes flinched and her shoulders trembled.
In an instant, patches of pale pink bloomed on her white skin.
Seeing that color change caused by him, a strange sense of satiety boiled up from his stomach.
“If you have no urgent business, let us return to the estate together. Wait in the carriage.”
Lest Kain attach himself to Agnes again. Lionel handed the wheelchair handles over to Kalt.
Lionel, emerging from his meeting with Lucebiten, held a handkerchief embroidered with a daisy pattern in his hand.
They said it had been dropped where the explosion started.
“A daisy pattern.”
Come to think of it, the personal crest used by the missing former Young Marquis of the House of Marquis Guten was also a daisy.
Just as Lionel’s eyes narrowed, Kalt approached hurriedly.
“Colonel. Information has been received that the Minister of Internal Affairs of Sercadia is scheduled to board a southern-bound train this evening.”
“Prepare to go to the train station.”
Lionel tucked the handkerchief into his inner pocket.
“Then the restaurant—,”
“Cancel it. After taking Agnes back to the estate, I’m heading straight to the South.”
It was just as well.
Though he hadn’t recklessly spat out words about lovers like before, he was at a point where sharp words might fly out due to his surging irritation.
So Lionel chose to leave the scene.
Lionel left the room immediately after changing his clothes.
Whenever he thought of the sight of Agnes being with Kain, his stomach turned.
“I’ll have to retract the statement that it’s okay to have a lover.”
Just imagining Agnes being with another man sent his irritation soaring.
Once he recognized the frame of the
emotion, it was easy to find the cause of the subsequent feeling.
The emotion he was feeling now was close to a foul sense of incongruity felt when someone else’s handprints are left on one’s possession.
This was not jealousy; it was a matter of order.
She was his wife.
Even if it was an affectionless marriage joined by the Emperor’s command, that fact did not change.
What did something like affection matter to the essence of a relationship?
Nobles living as couples without love were everywhere.
So regardless of emotions, legally, Agnes was his.
And Lionel had absolutely no intention of sharing what was his with others.
It was then.
Just before leaving the estate. Andrew, approaching from the opposite side, bowed.
“Duke. I submitted a report regarding the new treatment, but since there was no separate word, is it alright to proceed as planned?”
New treatment?
Lionel’s prominent brow bone shifted.
Come to think of it, he seemed to recall hearing such a report.
“It’s a different vein from the rehabilitation treatment. And you did mention the treatment intensity before. I will adjust the intensity as much as possible, but I don’t know how Agnes will receive it—”
With one hand on his hip, Lionel, who was trying to recall the contents among the reports he had skimmed, shook his head.
“Did Agnes say she would take it?”
“Yes. The discussion with Agnes is already finished.”
“Then proceed without asking me every little thing. Within a reasonable limit.”
If she said she was fine with it.
If she was so preoccupied with adapting to the treatment that she had no mind to wander outside, that wouldn’t be bad in its own way.
If she sat quietly in her room, she wouldn’t have occasion to associate with fellows like Kain.
‘Yes, that wouldn’t be bad.’
Indeed.
This was not an emotion on the same line as affection.
As long as Bardo’s blood flowed in Agnes’s body. From the start, he and Agnes were fated not to be bound by such emotional ties.
An instinctive rejection blocked him from looking into deeper feelings.
However, even though a conclusion had been reached, the foreign sensation in his throat did not disappear.
Rather, it revealed its presence more and more clearly.
As if he had reached a very wrong answer.
Lionel did not know.
That this arrogant misjudgment, this foreign sensation that was no more than a small lump, would later become a trap that would choke his own neck.
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