HBM 2

“Are you conscious? I’ll call someone at once—”

Before he could finish his sentence, her voice slipped out again.

“…Kas Black.”

This time, he heard it clearly.

Lucas Black.

She had whispered his name.

Lucas froze, staring down at Grace Oellin lying limp in his arms.

Between her lips—red as if they might burst with ripeness—his name spilled out like a moan. Sweet and dangerously soft, like juice seeping from crushed fruit.

Why… is she saying my name?

Confusion clouded his expression as he looked down at her unconscious face.

By then, the servants waiting at a distance finally noticed something was wrong and rushed toward them.

“M-My lady! What on earth—!”

“She suddenly fainted. Was Lady Oellin unwell today?”

“Pardon? I-I’m not sure…”

Julie, the maid who had accompanied Grace, hovered anxiously nearby, clearly just as confused.

Lucas shook his head impatiently and ordered that a carriage be brought at once.

“Oh my, my lady! What has happened to you?”

With tears brimming in her eyes, Julie handed Grace over to her escort knight, Cassia. Cassia swiftly lifted Grace and hurried away.

Lucas clenched and unclenched his fist, as if trying to hold on to the warmth that had just left his arms.

At that very moment, Grace’s eyes fluttered open slightly as she was carried away in the knight’s embrace.

He saw it clearly.

Her gaze—fixed on him—growing moist with tears.

Watching her grow more distant only deepened his confusion.

At the same time, Julie and Cassia, carrying her away, were equally bewildered by the faint words she murmured.

“…scared.”

“Pardon? What did you say, my lady? I couldn’t hear you!”

“My lady, are you conscious? What did you just say? Are you saying you’re sad?”

No. That’s not it. Not that…

As her vision faded into darkness, Grace thought of the emotion pounding in her chest as if it would choke her.

The desperate truth she had wanted to add after endlessly whispering his name.

This feeling that made her heart drop at the mere sight of his retreating silhouette.

Lucas Black, you…

“You… you’re… scary. S-sob…”

* * *

Grace Oellin first heard about Lucas Black precisely three years and two months ago.

Because of her frail health, Grace had made her debut later than most.

Even now she was somewhat shy, but back then she had been even quieter, even more innocent. A childhood plagued by illness and the early loss of her mother had shaped her into a reserved girl.

Of course, her rigid and strict father’s neglect—and her half-brother’s constant hostility—had also played their parts.

On the day she wore her debutante gown, her father, Capren Oellin, called her in and said:

“Do not stand out too much, Grace.”

It was a sentence she would never forget.

His voice, sharp enough to pierce, still echoed vividly in her ears.

“Simply live as though you are barely there. Then marry into a suitable family and leave. Until then, do not—under any circumstances—do anything that might hinder your brother’s path. Or rather, our family’s.”

That was the kind of man Capren Oellin was.

A man who cherished himself more than his family, and his family more than anything else.

Many praised him as a modest and admirable marquis, fooled by his dignified appearance and carefully crafted demeanor.

But among those who knew him closely—how many would truly call him admirable?

There had been only one time when Marquis Oellin had patted Grace’s shoulder and encouraged her.

It was when he brought up her marriage.

“You made a successful debut, so it’s time to start looking into marriage prospects. Several families took a favorable view of you. Among them, I believe it would be best to form ties with the Black family.”

“The Black family…?”

Grace had been summoned for tea without warning. She hadn’t even touched her cup yet.

With a painted smile, Marquis Oellin began listing facts about the Blacks.

“Yes. The Black family of the Rampaging Black Stallion. An old and wealthy ducal house.”

The Black family of the Rampaging Black Stallion.

Even someone as ignorant of high society as Grace could not fail to recognize that name.

“The eldest son, Lucas Black, and his brother Cain Black are currently the pillars of that house. Coincidentally, both are unmarried.”

The marquis murmured in satisfaction as he savored his tea.

“The second son, Cain Black, would be admirable as well—but surely the head of the house, Lucas Black, would be preferable. He is also a close aide to the Crown Prince.”

The name Lucas Black lodged itself in Grace’s mind.

Before she could even gather her thoughts, her father pressed on.

“We have not yet received a formal proposal, but with two eligible sons in that house, they would not refuse if we were to send one first.”

He spoke as though rejection were unthinkable.

“As it happens, both men will attend the upcoming royal banquet. It would not be a bad idea to see what sort of men they are. It would be even better if you made an impression.”

And so Grace was pushed into attending the royal party.

Somewhere here must be Lucas Black… or Cain Black.

Even if she had little desire for marriage, she couldn’t help but feel curious about the men being discussed as her potential fiancé.

As a noble daughter, marriage was not something she could easily avoid.

And her father would never allow her freedom in the matter.

If nothing unexpected happened, she would likely be forced into marriage regardless.

Marquis Oellin was not a man who let go once he set his sights on something.

Naturally, she wanted to see them herself.

“Oh my—they’ve really arrived!”

Some time later, the atmosphere of the banquet hall suddenly shifted.

Whispers swelled. Gazes darted.

What had been a slow, gentle andante of a gathering abruptly transformed into a lively allegretto.

It was a strange and fascinating experience—to see someone change the air of a room simply by appearing.

Like a child turning toward the smell of fresh bread, Grace found herself instinctively looking toward the source.

And the moment she spotted him, she understood.

He’s… tall. And… beautiful.

The man was imposing—broad and powerfully built—but at the same time strikingly beautiful and noble.

His posture was flawless. His blue eyes gleamed faintly. His sharply defined features cast deep shadows.

Grace unconsciously lowered her breathing as she stared.

She couldn’t look away, as though bewitched.

Was this what the god of war in ancient myths looked like?

In all her life, she had never seen a man with shoulders so wide and solid.

Accustomed to the rather slight men of her own household, the sculpted musculature before her made her feel almost small.

He was so handsome it felt like staring at a masterpiece statue.

Who is that man? Some foreign prince?

Her curiosity burned.

And it was soon satisfied by a group of young noble ladies chatting nearby.

“My goodness, Duke Black looks magnificent again today. How wonderful for you, Lady Allendia, to have marriage talks with such a man.”

Grace’s eyes widened.

Duke Black? That’s Lucas Black?

That alone was shocking enough—but the next part stunned her even more.

Marriage talks? So there was already someone negotiating marriage with Lucas Black?

She turned instinctively toward the voices.

Three beautiful, radiant women stood together.

The most striking among them had blazing red hair and emerald eyes. She wore a boldly cut dress with a deep neckline, yet her beauty carried it effortlessly.

The woman called Allendia smiled modestly.

“It is merely talk among the elders.”

“Well, Rosenheim and Black have always been close.”

“I suppose since my brother and His Grace are so close, such rumors spread more easily.”

“Indeed, Sir Ryan and Sir Lucas were quite inseparable.”

“That reminds me! Have you heard they’re being called the ‘Gatekeepers of Hell’ these days?”

“Really? They seem far too kind for such a name.”

“They say their skill in hunting down and eliminating those who threaten the Crown Prince is devilish. They show no mercy.”

“Well, Duke Lucas does have a fierce appearance. I used to cry from fear when I was little.”

“Now he just looks manly and dignified—but when he isn’t smiling, he can be a bit intimidating.”

Grace tilted her head slightly.

The stories sounded… oddly close.

Marriage talks already? Did Father misunderstand?

Realizing she was eavesdropping, she flushed in embarrassment.

How rude of me.

She quickly moved away.

But she had no close acquaintances here—and she absolutely did not want to go upstairs where her half-brother Norman was.

I’ll get some air in the garden and then return.

She would have to politely inform her father that Duke Black seemed to have another prospective bride.

Though knowing him, he would simply push Cain Black instead.

As she walked through the garden, gloom settled over her.

It was her marriage—yet she felt completely at the mercy of others.

Wasn’t something wrong with that?

Even if noble marriages were alliances, it seemed strange to have no say in the most important decision of her life.

But if I said that aloud, they would call me strange.

As they always had.

With no strength left, Grace sat on a bench near the garden and took several deep breaths of cold air.

Her chest felt slightly lighter.

Then—

“Ahhhh!”

A piercing scream shattered the air.

Grace froze in terror.

W-what is happening?

A scream inside the royal palace… it felt ominous.

She forced her stiff body to move—about to flee—when another voice sounded nearby.

“You dared to hide inside the palace, you rat of Lontia.”

It was low and clear.

If not for the killing intent woven into it, it might have been a pleasant voice.

The next voice trembled in terror.

“H-hiii! P-please spare me! Please!”

And then—