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Chapter 71
Knock knock—
“Marquis, Miss Agnes has arrived.”
Just then, a servant knocked and announced Lucia’s arrival.
Upon hearing Lucia’s name, Celine’s expression hardened, but she quickly stepped away from Vern and locked eyes with him.
“I’ll come again next time.”
Leaving a dazed Vern behind, Celine departed.
Though the servant seemed flustered, Celine ignored him and walked confidently.
On her way, she came face-to-face with Lucia.
“You are….”
Lucia’s eyes widened, and she looked surprised. It was far more than just a casual encounter.
Celine clenched her fists tightly.
There was no doubt that Lucia knew everything. Otherwise, why would she have deliberately taken Vern away at the party?
“Ah, the Viscountess has come. Are you here to see Vern?”
Lucia hid her surprise behind a gentle smile.
‘Did she purposely use Vern’s name so casually to provoke me?’
Celine found it hard to take Lucia’s words at face value. Yet, looking at Lucia’s clear and sincere expression, there seemed to be no hidden malice.
If only she shared the same feelings as Celine… it would have been easier. A strange pang of guilt hit her.
‘…Still, I can’t give up.’
Celine unconsciously clenched her fists and managed a small smile on her tense lips.
“Yes, I came for a brief matter.”
“I see. I also came for a short matter. The appointment time is almost here, so I must…”
Lucia brushed past Celine with a polite farewell.
“Miss Agnes.”
Suddenly, Celine called out to Lucia. When Lucia turned, Celine, with a resolute expression, spoke:
“From now on, please call me Celine Janson, not Viscountess.”
“Pardon?”
“Well, then, I shall see you next time.”
Having said her piece, Celine left the Marquis’ residence.
Lucia was left standing, staring blankly at the space where Celine had disappeared.
“Not as Viscountess?”
Since she used Janson instead of Lemario, it seemed she had reverted to her maiden name. Does that mean she divorced?
‘Divorce isn’t usually that simple.’
The party had ended just about a week ago. She had been the Viscountess then, and now, in such a short time, divorced?
‘How strange…’
Despite the many oddities, seeing Vern took priority, so Lucia pushed her curiosity aside and walked on.
“Vern, I ran into the Viscountess Lemario on the way, but what happened…?”
Lucia paused at the entrance to the reception room, seeing Vern frozen in place.
After a moment of relief, she noticed something was off.
He seemed completely dazed. Seeing his vacant eyes, Lucia placed her hand on Vern’s shoulder.
“Vern. Vern! Snap out of it!”
Vern shuddered. Gradually, light returned to his eyes.
“Lucia…?”
“Yes, it’s me. Did something happen with the Viscountess?”
The question, though casual, visibly unsettled Vern, and he avoided her gaze. Lucia immediately sensed something had occurred between them.
“It seems something did happen with the Viscountess.”
“…Did she say anything to you?”
“Not much… just that I should call her Janson, not the Viscountess, from now on. Could it be she got divorced?”
“Hah…”
Vern slumped to the floor. Flustered, Lucia instinctively grabbed his hand.
“Are you feeling unwell? Then, sit on the sofa first…”
“…The Viscount Lemario passed away in an accident.”
Lucia froze as she helped Vern to sit.
“She came to me no longer as the Viscountess Lemario, but as a free woman.”
From that alone, Lucia instantly understood the situation. She bent her knees to meet Vern’s eye level.
“The harsh words she said to me the day we parted were all lies. She told me she no longer wanted regrets and held onto me. She said she still loves me…”
Tears slipped through his large hands that covered his face.
Lucia silently wrapped her arms around Vern’s shoulders and gently patted him.
“What should I do? If Celine’s words are true… I…!”
“Vern. Look at me.”
Lucia carefully cupped Vern’s face and made him meet her gaze.
Her dew-filled golden eyes slowly took him in.
“Does it hurt?”
“…Yes, it does.”
“What do you want to do, Vern?”
“I… I don’t know. My ties with Celine were severed. But to love again now… it’s hard.”
He had come too far.
With such deep wounds, it would be difficult to accept someone again.
Lucia saw the depth of Vern’s pain clearly.
“Vern. Let’s get engaged.”
“…What?”
“Let’s get engaged, Vern.”
The warmth from her small hands enveloped his face. Vern’s eyes wavered helplessly.
“Lucia…”
“If it’s too hard to love again… if it’s too painful, then just get engaged to me. We’ve already promised engagement, so it won’t be sudden.”
“But then, Lucia…”
Wouldn’t she feel uneasy seeing him shaken by another woman?
How could Lucia calmly speak of engagement when he wasn’t even sure of his feelings yet?
Her clear eyes shimmered like a lake embracing everything. Slowly, she caressed Vern’s face with a comforting expression.
“You helped me before, so now it’s my turn. I’ll be your shield, Vern.”
Vern stared at her unwavering eyes.
Compared to Celine’s love-filled gaze just five minutes ago, it felt neutral.
Lucia’s eyes contained no love, but in the absence of it, she offered sympathy, understanding, and became a steadfast support.
Enchanted, Vern slowly rested his face on Lucia’s shoulder.
“Even someone like me… is that alright?”
“You can’t just pass by someone in pain. Later, if I falter, you’ll be the one to hold me.”
He felt guilty relying solely on her.
But at this moment, he didn’t want to think.
The turmoil Celine had caused was enormous. If he let it sweep him away, everything could collapse like during his year-long isolation.
Vern stretched his hand to grasp the small hand reaching out to save him.
“Please… take care of me.”
“…I will, Vern.”
His body trembled in her arms. Seeing it, Lucia closed her eyes tightly.
‘Yes, this is enough.’
Happiness doesn’t have to begin with love.
She had once thought all happiness stemmed from love.
But now she knew there were many forms of happiness. And she would pursue it, no matter what.
‘I can be happy even without Herwin.’
Now engaged to Vern, she could dream of a future with him, not Herwin.
To do so, they would overcome the obstacles ahead together.
If Vern had helped her before, now it was her turn.
Lucia embraced the reflection of herself she saw in Vern.
Thud—
In a pitch-dark room, a dull sound echoed.
Eyes adjusted to darkness reached out blindly to grasp what was in front.
Trying to pour from an empty glass, he realized the bottle was empty.
“…Nothing.”
Herwin, drunk and disoriented, threw the bottle carelessly.
Glass bottles rolled on the soft carpet. Many were scattered at his feet.
For a week since the party, he had secluded himself, drinking endlessly.
Herwin wasn’t someone who usually drank.
He tended to avoid alcohol, never enjoying it, yet for a week he drank nonstop.
By the third day, Jerome had pleaded with him to at least eat, but Herwin refused like a lone wolf.
He just stared at the empty glass in his hand.
Drinking past his limit paradoxically made him feel clear-headed.
Herwin traced the embroidered part of a handkerchief he held—a gift from Lucia when she confessed to him.
It reminded him of her, involuntarily.
He remembered when she first came to the mansion at age eight.
Although he vaguely remembered earlier joyful times with her, that moment was vivid.
“What was I thinking then…”
Chubby cheeks, short bob, and the clear, sky-blue eyes—it was perfect.
“Oh, right…”
Finally, he remembered what he thought upon seeing her.
“I thought she was like a fairy.”
A fairy who fell into the human world by mistake.
Even now, the image of her childhood face remained clear.
At first, they were similar in height, but eventually he saw her crown, and her cute face became that of a woman.
He hadn’t realized it during the Academy, but looking back, he had been jealous of other men approaching her.
She probably didn’t know how many men liked her.
Some teased about confessing to her, others begged him to introduce her.
He struggled to deal with them quietly, thinking back now, it was foolish.
He had liked her since the Academy, or even before. Why had he mistaken it? Why had he thought of her as just a friend?
A true friend wouldn’t bring these feelings or emptiness.
The image of Lucia and Vern kissing haunted him.
Frowning, Herwin hugged his head.
He couldn’t bear the thought of her married to another man. Seeing a child, looking just like her, not of his blood… he felt he would go mad.
Though he drank to numb the pain, his brief clarity brought all sorts of thoughts back.
Gripping his throbbing head, he got up.
“Jerome! Jerome…!”
Herwin shook the rope to call him.
“Jerome! Bring me one more bottle…!”
No matter how long he waited, Jerome didn’t come.
Confused, Herwin looked up at the door. He sensed someone beyond it.
Assuming it was Jerome, he flung the door open.
“Why are you so—”
Before he could finish, he froze. The person at the door wasn’t Jerome—
“…Mother.”
It was Herwin’s mother, the Duchess of Peneus, Scarlett.
