Chapter 26

Chapter 26
“Did your conversation with your father go well?”

“It seems Marquis Hoffmann cares a great deal about Aquitaine.”

“…My father’s visit this time was entirely without my consent,” Grita said. “I apologize on his behalf, especially when you must be exhausted right after returning. I tried to stop him, but I couldn’t. I am deeply sorry.”

Carlos waved his hand dismissively and rubbed his eyelids.

He was worn out from dealing with Marquis Hoffmann, who had shown up in person with a marriage contract late last night and kept him awake until dawn.

“Just to be clear,” Grita added, “the terms in that marriage contract do not reflect my wishes.”

“I know. You’ve always said you hate the idea of marriage.”

Grita matched Carlos’s long strides, then suddenly paused and clutched her cravat. Her fist tightened.

“……To be honest, Senior, weren’t you the one who hated marriage even more? You always despised women who threw themselves at you just for a proposal. And they were all stunning. If I were a man, I would have snapped one up immediately. What a waste.”

“Then why didn’t you snap one up?”

“I’m not interested in romance.”

Sparks and molten iron splashed from dozens of furnaces. Carlos and Grita walked through the searing heat with familiar ease.

The loud pounding of hammers striking horseshoes pierced their ears. An old blacksmith cackled as he stretched the glowing iron like a street performer performing a trick.

Amid the deafening noise, their conversation quickly faded into quiet silence.

Keeping half a step behind him, Grita gently patted his back.

“Senior, how about a glass of beer today? My treat.”

“You don’t drink.”

“It’s a hot day. I just want to set the mood.”

Carlos raised an eyebrow and let out a soft chuckle.

“I don’t have time to go out. I’ll pay for it, so go enjoy yourself with your peers. Quite a few of your classmates are staying in Schweiz right now.”

Grita stared at him intently before nodding.

Carlos looked down at the tiny daggers before him—they were so delicate they almost looked like toys.

He slowly stroked his thick wrist, looked down at his muscled chest, and his expression hardened. The moment Carlos picked up a cyan dagger, Grita’s lips curled up into a quick smile again.

“How about I introduce Lady Aquitaine to my classmates or juniors?”

“…What?”

“Since she’s still engaged to you for now, it could just be a casual introduction to break the ice. Lady Aquitaine loves alcohol and takes a keen interest in men, so I’m sure she’d gladly accept.”

Grita handed the sword she needed repaired to the old blacksmith, speaking as casually as if commenting on the weather.

“From what I’ve seen, she chats effortlessly with the squire knights and smiles at them warmly. She’s a young lady who truly loves being around people.”

Holding the turquoise-studded dagger in his hand, Carlos stared at Grita with an unreadable expression.

“I’m similar to you, Senior, so to be honest, I don’t really understand ladies who obsess over love and marriage.”

Grita smiled, her brow furrowing slightly.

“My heart goes out to her when I see her eyes sparkle as she tries so hard to be loved by men. She almost seems starved for affection. That’s why I want to introduce her to a decent man as soon as possible.”

The old man, still performing tricks with the molten metal, tossed a log into the furnace, sending a high surge of flames into the air.

“She’s naturally cute and so habituated to act charming. No matter which classmate I bring, they’ll all fall for Lady Aquitaine, so I’m sure they’ll hit it off in no time.”

While the fire raged like a fierce beast, Carlos remained silent, his dark shadow stretching long and heavy.

Grita inspected the jewels on the dagger from various angles, then shook her head and chuckled as if she had no choice.

“Still, Lady Aquitaine is happy as long as someone dotes on her, so that’s a relief. She relies easily on just about any man and isn’t picky at all. She’s truly sweet and pure-hearted.”

Grita picked up a dagger identical to the one Carlos was holding, a warm smile gracing her lips.

“This would suit Lady Aquitaine so well. May I give it to her as a gift?”

“…Th-that bastard.”

A bicycle laden with bags of books and fruit tumbled onto the bed of lilacs.

Under a willow tree whose branches drooped down to the dirt, Elio curled up, hiding her body beneath the dense leaves.

“Hiccup. He’s a total… jerk…. A complete bastard. Hiccup. He said… he said he’d correct the rumors.”

The moment her eyes fell back on the newspaper someone had abandoned on a bench, sobs leaked through her tightly pressed lips.

Lübeck Gospel of Grace Newspaper

The Sin of Aquitaine, the Trashy Fallen Lady Who Disgraced Schpenheart: What Is Her Punishment?

42 Imperial Faction MPs Issue Joint Statement Opposing Marriage to Schpenheart.

“An unprecedented commoner criminal disgracing a noble man—a marriage to her goes against the sacred teachings of the Scriptures… We cannot hide our despair over our moral standards degenerating into something as barbaric as the Kingdom of Cyprus…”

— Marquis Duran, Minister of Justice

Elio muttered in utter disbelief.

“D-disgraced… disgraced…?”

How on earth could she disgrace a man whose entire body was built like a lethal weapon?

She couldn’t believe the Imperial Faction had actually issued a joint statement against her over such nonsense.

Elio rubbed her burning, swollen eyes and looked at the newspaper on the right.

Cyprus Starlight Companion Newspaper

The Woman of Young Duke Schpenheart! The Shocking Twist of Aquitaine: She Is Innocent!

Profaning a Sacred Union Is an Act of Arrogance Against God’s Will.

“A holy union achieved purely through extraordinary seduction. We must not brand a young lamb a criminal without evidence… The Lübeck noble society, which condemns a woman’s active sexual self-determination, shall remain trapped in its own bigotry forever…”

— High Priest Foucault of Cyprus

Beneath all sorts of sensational headlines were interviews with the church order and even a portrait of her face.

Elio slammed the newspaper to the ground in sheer absurdity.

Even the cool breeze blowing from the stream failed to soothe the heat on her cheeks. Her eyes stung from rubbing them so hard, and her head throbbed with a dull ache.

Breathing in short, tearful gasps, Elio looked up at the steep Duke’s Castle across the stream.

…How do I even confront him…?

After staring blankly at the castle for a long time while calming her sobs, her head dropped.

What if he asks for his money back? What if he says he’ll find another noble lady? Then what about the house? Do I have to return the money used to buy the bicycle too? Can it even be refunded?

Elio’s swollen eyes blinked rapidly.

I don’t even need to ride it anyway. The Papal States are close, so I can just walk there…

Staring dazed at the dirty bicycle wheel, she wiped her falling tears with her frayed sleeve and crawled toward the fallen bicycle.

She pulled out the tissue stuck between the spokes. Twisting her soaked sleeve into a tight roll, she tried to rub away the dark grease on the wheel.

Grumble. Her stomach let out a loud rumble without a shred of tact. The tears she had been holding back burst forth once more.

“How can a loaf of bread cost 900 shillings? Everything… hiccup… everything is a scam.”

Why did feeding just herself have to be this expensive? It was so costly that it brought her to tears.

“Young Master, I have confirmed that Marquis Hoffmann has completely departed Schweiz. Now you can finally rest—!”

The butler walked into the office with a bright smile, looking as though a heavy burden had finally been lifted from his chest, but he abruptly froze in his tracks.

As the afternoon sunlight illuminated the man, the butler’s white eyebrows trembled.

On the thick nape of Carlos’s neck, there were vivid scratches that looked as though they had been left by a woman’s fingernails. Smears of strawberry juice and smudged lipstick were visible on his collar.

“…Didn’t you say you were going to the blacksmith shop?”

“I went.”

“…Did you also stop by Madam’s villa?”

“Yeah.”

Carlos pushed the books about dragons to the side and casually turned the page of his documents.

Rubbing his drooping eyes, the butler set down a green envelope and a box. His low, raspy voice leaked out.

“…I told you to rest. Please, get some sleep. Leave Madam to the maids, I beg you…”

“What’s that?” Carlos cut him off.

“…It is urgent mail from Her Imperial Highness. She sent a package along with it.”

At the butler’s gloomy voice, Carlos wiped his brow.

Just looking at the tacky pig-pink ribbon attached to the green envelope gave him a headache, making the Princess’s screeching voice echo in his mind.

“Where is Aquitaine?”

“…She’s playing outside on her bicycle.”

Carlos let out a quiet chuckle, unclasped the golden bracelet stamped with the ducal crest, and turned his gaze to the side of the desk.

The lilacs brought to his office were still white and moist—looking as fresh as if they had just bloomed.

Fearing they might die if he touched them, he had simply watched over them without laying a finger on them.

The unripe buds were so tiny and clustered together that one might doubt if they were fully grown, looking fragile enough to shatter at the slightest touch.

Did she really perform a purification? Well, how could anyone gauge her skills after just a few days…

Following Carlos’s gaze, the butler stared at the white lilacs with dark, heavy eyes.

“…Young Master. Do you intend to maintain your relationship with Lady Aquitaine?”

“Why?”

“Isn’t she Valentin’s daughter?”

“Did Valentin give birth to Elio all by herself?” Carlos replied. “Her face is the spitting image of Yunus. She takes entirely after her father’s side.”

Carlos stared at the white lilacs, the corner of his lips pulling up into a slight smirk.

How did she manage not to take after her sturdy mother at all, inheriting only her father’s pretty looks instead…? Even though her father was handsome, he was at least big.

Since she at least inherited his face, shouldn’t Elio be grateful to Valentin, who was always so obsessed with handsome men?

“…She is a wicked woman whom even God cannot forgive,” the butler insisted. “Is she not the daughter of a spy who deceived us for over a decade? You must keep your distance from her. It is an ill-fated connection you must never draw close to.”

“God reportedly forgave her graciously,” Carlos remarked casually. “He said He doesn’t practice guilt by association.”

At Carlos’s indifferent reply, the butler’s pale face hardened.

“Young Master! You cannot even keep her as a mistress. Do you want to see me cry tears of blood?”

The butler’s fingertips trembled, and tears began to fall from his eyes.

Faced with the old butler’s sudden outburst of grief, Carlos burst into an incredulous laugh.

“A mistress? To a kid like her?”

“Young Master! Then why on earth did you prepare the master bedroom?!”

The butler glared through his wrinkled eyes as if warning Carlos not to fool him.

“Tsk. Anyone listening would think you’re my father. It feels like I have three fathers—two crazy ones and one who worries far too much.”

“Young Master!”

“Don’t worry. I don’t even see her as a woman.”

Carlos clicked his tongue as he watched the old butler, who looked ready to wail at any moment.

“Once the engagement is broken, I plan to find her a decent young nobleman. I’ll even pay her dowry.”

“……”

“She’s worth that much trouble.”

Carlos stared at the lilac petals, put a cigar between his lips, and took a deep drag.

“She’s naturally cute and so habituated to act charming…”

“My heart goes out to her when I see her eyes sparkle as she tries so hard to be loved…”