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Chapter 66
“Lady Litricia, if you’ve finished writing, shall I go send the letters?”
“Not yet. Please wait a little longer, Gorten.”
Litricia hesitated, the envelope still missing a recipient’s name.
Even after carefully writing the name of the Count of Esta family in her round, elegant handwriting, Litricia pressed her lips tightly together, unsure.
‘They wouldn’t come anyway. Is it really right to send this?’
In charge of writing all the wedding invitations, Litricia had run into an unexpected dilemma.
Thanks to Gorten, who had neatly organized the list of nobles and merchants they’d recently established business with, the task itself wasn’t difficult.
For a moment, she wondered whether she should send one to the imperial palace too—recalling the Emperor’s words, “If you ever do hold a wedding, make sure to invite me.”
But that matter had already been dealt with by Killian, so there was no need to write an invitation for the Emperor.
“Killian…”
Come to think of it, that day when he had suddenly suggested they truly become husband and wife, the conversation had ended with him leaving the room, his expression dark…
“Lady Litricia. The ink is smudging.”
“Ah!”
Litricia, lost in thoughts of Killian, snapped out of her daze.
But the invitation she had been preparing for the Esta family was already ruined with ink stains. Thanks to that, her indecision came to an end.
“This one’s no good anymore. Here, just send these, Gorten.”
She tore the envelope bearing the Esta family name and threw it into the wastebasket.
The only invitation that would be sent to the capital was the one addressed to Peter Godwin.
“Yes. Then please rest, Lady Litricia. I, Gorten, will see to it that the invitations are safely delivered.”
“Thank you.”
Though he was merely carrying out his duty, Litricia’s habit of always thanking him made the corners of Gorten’s mouth twitch upward.
Humming cheerfully as he carried the letters, Gorten suddenly felt Litricia’s gaze and turned back.
“Do you have any other instructions for me?”
“Not really… I just wanted to ask, Gorten—what is Killian doing?”
“Do you mean His Grace?”
Straightening his posture, Gorten checked the old pocket watch hanging from his belt.
It had just passed noon.
“He went to the training grounds this morning, and as far as I know, he is still there.”
“Again?”
Ever since he had left her room that day with such a heavy look, Killian had practically been living at the training grounds.
Although he still dropped by with lemon sherbet after Litricia’s treatments, those visits were brief. Unlike before, he left again almost immediately.
Naturally, the temporary desk he had set up in her room had long remained unused.
Contrary to Justin’s earlier fears, the desk legs had never collapsed under the weight of documents—simply because no more papers were piling up on it anymore.
“If there’s nothing else, may I take my leave now? If the young duke is to receive his invitation on time, the letters must be sent before the afternoon passes.”
“Of course. I have nothing else to ask. Go ahead, Gorten.”
“Thank you. Then please call me again if you need anything.”
Litricia waved her hand lightly in acknowledgment.
Tap–thud. Tap–thud.
She listened to the sound of Gorten’s prosthetic leg striking the floor. Once it faded, she slumped forward onto the table like a deflating balloon.
Her gaze fell on Killian’s unused desk.
“Blue.”
At her quiet call, the trail of blue smoke that had been weaving through the chandelier descended onto the table.
Though Killian himself didn’t appear, the smoke he emitted constantly slipped into her room, meddling everywhere as if it owned the place.
At first, it had startled Litricia every time, but people adapt—she had grown used to its antics, even giving it a name.
Killian had said it was a lifeless phenomenon without consciousness, yet whenever she called, it floated beside her like a living creature.
“Why do you always come, but Killian never does?”
The smoke surged toward the ceiling and then scattered downward like a falling waterfall. Then it swam between Litricia’s fingers like a playful child.
Its restless antics reminded her of a mischievous youngster.
“You can’t actually talk, can you?”
The smoke quivered side to side, as if flustered.
“Blue, want me to tell you a secret? …When Killian said he wouldn’t mind us being a real couple, I think I felt… a little happy. Honestly, I even hesitated to say yes.”
As her health improved day by day, the locks she had placed on her heart began to open as well.
“I really love it here. Being in this place makes me feel like… I could be someone worthy of love. Maybe that’s why I asked Killian if he liked me.”
The smoke tilted diagonally, as if to ask “Why?”
“Good question. Why, indeed? I shouldn’t have gotten so used to his kindness, but maybe it’s already too late. Because when he didn’t answer, I felt disappointed… And now that he’s not here, I feel this lonely.”
Her eyes fell on Killian’s cold, empty desk. It looked as if he might walk in at any moment, glasses half on, flipping through papers.
Litricia smiled faintly, on the verge of tears.
“Blue… what do I do? I think… I might really like Killian. I thought it was just this place I loved, but maybe it isn’t. If it weren’t that, I wouldn’t feel this disappointed. What should I do?”
The smoke wriggled, almost as if it understood.
As she stared at its shifting form, Litricia pressed her forehead. Her mind felt hazy.
“Huh…? I haven’t felt like this in a while…”
Clang! Clang!
The violent clash of blades, sharp enough to send chills down one’s spine, made Pell flinch.
For a full week now, he hadn’t even set foot on the training ground sand, thanks to Killian, who swung his sword in the center like a ferocious beast.
“Vice-Commander, what on earth has our lord so angry?”
“I don’t know.”
“Ah, come on. Don’t be stingy. If you don’t know, who would? You’re always at his side.”
Mark felt wronged. If he knew anything, he wouldn’t be in this situation either.
Still, he had his suspicions. There was only one thing that could shake their usually composed lord like this.
“It must be because of Lady Litricia.”
“See? You do know. But what about her?”
“I said must be. I don’t know the details. How many times must I tell you—I don’t know!”
Mark’s sudden roar made Pell cover his ears in a panic.
Whenever it involved Litricia, Mark was always left in the dark.
Even though her frailty might explain it, it was still strange that a physician came twice a day. Each time, Mark wasn’t even allowed inside, only posted in the corridor.
And when Piril and Justin finished treatment and spoke with Killian, Mark was forced to stay far away—so far he couldn’t hear a word.
Just what are they hiding?
He was the one closest to Killian, sworn to guard him. Why was he the only one kept uninformed?
“Am I… untrustworthy to him?”
In the midst of his self-reflection, Mark suddenly thrust his practice spear at Pell.
“Uwah!”
Unprepared, Pell buckled under the crushing weight of the weapon—one that only someone like Mark could normally wield. His knees gave out gracelessly.
“Vice-Commander! Throwing a weapon like this is attempted murder! What if I get crushed to death under it?”
“Weakling.”
“Weakling? No! You’re the monster here. You toss this around like a dagger, but I’m perfectly normal strength-wise!”
Pell’s whining didn’t stop Mark. Drawing a longsword, the vice-commander ran off to a corner of the training ground, throwing himself into sudden, strenuous exercise.
“…What’s with him now?”
Pell pouted, deprived of space by his two superiors monopolizing the training ground.
Just then, Gorten approached in a hurry, limping heavily. In his hand was another letter.
Unlike the crisp white invitations, this envelope was dark, rolled like a scroll, and bound with a black ribbon.
At the end of the ribbon was stamped the imperial seal.
“Head Steward? Why the rush?”
“Call His Grace. Quickly.”
Panting, Gorten tapped his prosthetic leg.
“It’s news—Duke Godwin has passed away.”
“What? I’ll fetch the lord right away!”
When Killian emerged from the training ground with Pell, he still radiated a fierce aura. He snatched the letter from Gorten’s hand.
“Duke Godwin… has died?”
“Yes. But… along with his death, it says the young master of the Esta family has been imprisoned in relation to it.”
