HBM 3

The area around them was quiet, though not far from the banquet hall.

It wasn’t right next to it—but it was still within sight of the royal guards stationed around the hall. And yet, in such a place, such bloodthirsty conversation was unfolding.

But an even bigger problem was that the conversation was happening dangerously close to her. Too close to make a discreet escape.

Swallowing dryly, Grace carefully turned her head toward the source of the voices.

Beyond the bushes, she saw armor reflecting the moonlight. They were only about twenty paces away.

As she scanned the knights, her eyes widened.

That’s Lucas Black.

It wasn’t bright, but it wasn’t dark enough to mistake him. His overwhelming stature alone made him unmistakable.

“To betray the royal family and attempt to sell out the kingdom… I suppose we should slice open that belly of yours and see just how much courage you truly have.”

His voice was low, deep, dignified—yet the horrifying words rolled off his tongue as casually as idle chatter.

“On second thought… if you die while we’re inspecting your guts, you won’t be able to tell us who else is involved.”

The calmness of his tone made it all the more chilling.

“Ah. Perhaps it would be better to cut off the fingers that dared reach for the princess. One by one.”

“N-no! No! Damn it!”

“Hold him.”

The knights moved in perfect unison, restraining the man as if they truly meant to carry out the threat.

The captive’s face turned deathly pale as he begged desperately for his life. Grace had never realized that the sound of someone pleading could be so terrifying.

She clamped both hands over her mouth.

When startled, she had a habit of hiccupping—and she was certain it would happen any second.

I have to leave. I have to get away.

Her instincts screamed at her to run.

She tried.

But her frozen legs refused to obey.

N-no. I have to run. I can’t see this. I can’t, Grace Oellin!

Her fists trembled violently against her lips. Cold sweat poured down her back. Her heart pounded as if it would burst through her ribs.

Her entire body creaked like rusted tin. She clenched her teeth so hard her jaw ached—but her terror-stricken body ignored her commands.

Shrring.

The clear sound of a blade leaving its sheath rang far too close.

“No! No, please!”

The captured man thrashed and screamed.

If only someone would hear this. If only someone would rush in and stop this moment.

“Ahhh! P-please, spare me!”

In Grace’s horrified gaze, the tip of the sword shimmered beautifully in the moonlight.

It shone with an almost sacred brilliance—so mismatched with the grotesque scene.

Beyond the arc of the moonlit blade, she saw Lucas Black’s vivid blue eyes.

He was smiling.

His lips tilted upward at an angle.

“Ah—ahhh…! Mmmph! Mmm!”

Scarlet blood sprayed into the air.

Even the man she had thought as beautiful as a god was splattered with it.

The captive, his mouth gagged by the knights, collapsed with muffled, childlike cries.

A faint breeze carried the metallic scent of blood.

Something fell to the ground with a dull thud—a sound that lodged itself clearly into Grace’s stunned consciousness.

And when she realized what that something was—

She could not endure any longer.

I mustn’t faint…

But her consciousness had already betrayed her.

And so, her first memory of Lucas Black ended there.

* * *

Gasp!

Grace jolted awake, sucking in air.

Her face was pale as paper, cold sweat soaking her skin.

“I-I had that nightmare again…”

She let out a heavy sigh and buried her bloodless face in her hands. Her head felt foggy, as if she hadn’t slept at all.

At least this time the severed fingers weren’t hopping around.

She let out a bitter little laugh and shook her head.

After witnessing that scene in the palace garden, she had suffered for a full year from nightmares of severed fingers bouncing across the floor.

Fingers, slick with blood, hopping as if playing in puddles.

It was more horrifying than anything she could have imagined.

And beyond those bouncing fingers, Lucas Black would stand, wearing that hauntingly beautiful smile.

Every time their eyes met, she would wake up as if fainting.

“I had finally managed to forget…”

She slapped her chilled cheeks lightly, trying to shake off the memory.

Perhaps because of that trauma—or because of the constant nightmares—her health had deteriorated rapidly afterward. She had spent two entire social seasons confined to her bed.

As a result, the marriage talks that had once surrounded her quietly vanished.

Marquis Capren Oellin had been deeply disappointed—but he couldn’t force a sickly, fainting daughter into ballrooms.

If she collapsed again, no one would want to marry her at all.

And now, suddenly, marriage talks with Lucas Black again?

Why on earth was someone like Lucas Black even considering her?

Hadn’t he been rumored to be in negotiations with Lady Allendia?

“This is insane.”

Grace paced her room anxiously. Her light nightgown fluttered around her slender frame, the hem swaying chaotically—like her heart.

Lucas Black. Lucas Black…!

When she shut her eyes tightly, she saw him as he had been today—dressed impeccably in formal attire, perfectly gentlemanly.

She had heard he’d set down his sword and turned to business. That he focused on managing his lands now and no longer wielded a blade.

And yet—

The image of scarlet blood splattering across his beautiful face would not leave her mind.

When he had smiled at her earlier, she had nearly screamed.

It was the same smile.

The same cruel smile from beneath the moonlight that had haunted her every night.

Goosebumps rose all over her body.

“No… I can’t. Absolutely not!”

After agonizing over it, she made her decision.

She had to tell her father she could not go through with this marriage.

Of course, he might not listen.

But she couldn’t do nothing.

She rushed from her room.

Her father would be leaving soon. He had emphasized several times that he had important people to meet—likely gone for at least ten days.

Among them was Lucas Black.

If she didn’t speak now, this engagement might truly be settled.

Her hurried steps turned into a run.

Servants stared in shock—Grace had never run through the estate before—but she paid them no mind.

There—the corner at the bottom of the stairs. Just beyond it was her father’s study.

He always checked the safe in his study before leaving.

Without hesitation, she rounded the corner—

—and abruptly stopped.

Someone stood before the study door, as if about to knock.

A massive, solid figure casting a long shadow across the corridor.

“Lady Oellin?”

Lucas Black turned toward her, unable to hide his surprise.

* * *

The moment Lucas saw Grace rushing toward him, he couldn’t help recalling his adjutant, Haem Demigrass.

“Pardon? Lady Oellin called Your Grace’s name as she fainted?”

It had started as a simple question.

While tying his tie, Haem had casually asked why a noblewoman would call out a man’s name while fainting.

Just idle curiosity.

Why? For what reason?

At his words, Haem’s eyes had sparkled meaningfully.

“Oh ho… oh ho…!”

Instead of answering, the man had begun circling Lucas like an excited puppy.

“Stop that. You’re making me dizzy, Haem.”

“I smell something, Your Grace. Something very interesting!”

Lucas had instinctively lifted his arm to sniff himself.

Nothing.

“What smell?”

But Haem, oblivious, continued muttering.

“This cannot be overlooked. I have a strong feeling something big is about to happen.”

Haem had served Lucas since childhood. His parents had served the Black family as well.

He was competent—sharp, efficient.

But far too lively for his own good.

“Well, Your Grace does possess extraordinarily handsome looks.”

Lucas’s right eyebrow twitched upward.

“On the outside?”

“Well, I haven’t seen the inside, have I? Though I can confidently assume it’s splendid as well! Hahaha!”

Lucas pushed him away irritably.

“I dislike being circled.”

“Ah, right. I got carried away. I was reading a detective novel last night.”

What did that have to do with anything?

Before Lucas could question it, Haem pressed on.

“Lady Grace was blushing, right? Couldn’t meet your eyes? Her fingers were trembling?”

“More than slightly. Quite violently, actually. Why?”

Clap!

Haem smacked his hands together dramatically.

“Oh my!”

Lucas’s brow furrowed at the sudden noise.

He hated loud, chaotic things.

Contrary to rumors, he preferred quiet countryside life, peaceful sunsets over endless fields—not noisy court intrigues.

And Haem’s volume was steadily increasing.

“This is it! I, Haem Demigrass—the heartthrob of Rosenta—swear upon my honor!”

Lucas eyed his shin.

One solid kick would silence him nicely.

Tempting.

“Your Grace! This is undoubtedly—!”

Lucas slowly lifted his booted foot.

“Lady Grace has fallen for you! Completely! She even called your name while fainting! It might even be love at first sight!”

And then—