RALMH 52

Chapter 52

After the Grand Duke left, the wind felt unusually cold as Betty remained alone.

“I… I…”

Betty swallowed a sigh mixed with tears. The fact that she was the one who caused such a pained expression on Ian’s face hurt her deeply.

“…Perhaps this is for the best.”

She didn’t want to pretend to know nothing and simply remain under the comforting shade Ian provided, letting him go through difficult situations while she acted as if everything were fine.

No matter how significant the position of a Grand Duke was, it inherently tied him up in countless interests and obligations.

It couldn’t possibly become simple just because of Betty.

By bringing her from the Duke’s household, he had already incurred the clear hostility of Felix Charte.

Though he seemed to shake it off effortlessly, like snow falling from his shoulder, Betty couldn’t possibly approach it in the same nonchalant manner.

All this rationalization was merely her attempt to suppress the feelings she didn’t want to have.

Yet, even after returning to the guest room assigned to her and spending the night awake, she couldn’t bring herself to throw away the letters, now blurred and difficult to read.

Ian felt a suffocating frustration with himself.

This wasn’t how he had intended the conversation with Betty to end. He hadn’t wanted things to flow like this from the start.

“Where did it all go wrong…?”

Back in his office, he paced anxiously. He didn’t want to let Betty leave like this.

He had a premonition that letting her slip away now would be equivalent to losing her forever.

But forcibly keeping her was absurd.

Gripping his chair so tightly that his hand ached, Ian’s eyes landed on one of the letters scattered across his desk.

Since entering the room, he had been unable to suppress his frustration and had been going through each letter again, hoping perhaps the answers he couldn’t find from Betty might be here.

• “…Grand Duke, don’t you think the same?”

It was a mundane account of her everyday life at the villa, yet this single sentence stuck in his mind.

It was an ordinary question asking for Ian’s opinion, without any particular intent.

Yet it felt as if Betty’s voice were asking him directly: Don’t you think so too?

Ian stared intently at Betty’s honest question, which he had never properly answered.

“So… that’s how it was. That’s how it had been…”

Ah, he had completely misunderstood from the start. This approach had been wrong from the very beginning.

He had never given proper answers, yet had been the one to bombard her with questions.

Without certainty, without trust, and without properly intending to give her his thoughts.

From Betty’s old question written on the paper, Ian realized what he had been doing.

“What on earth… have I been doing?”

In his desperation to elicit answers from her, he had been so focused on his own desires that he had failed to recognize that, to Betty, all this was nothing more than an unexpected event.

What was a long-awaited moment for him was simply an unforeseen wave crashing into her, sweeping everything along.

“I shouldn’t have confronted her like that in the first place.”

He shouldn’t have pressed her. What had he hoped to gain by interrogating what she already knew?

But it was already irreparable. Betty had already raised a towering wall to push him away.

His intention hadn’t been this. He had simply wanted her to recognize how important she was to him.

Yet her fear and wariness, the very things he wanted to avoid, had materialized just as he had feared.

“Regretting it now, like a fool…”

It was meaningless. Betty would surely leave the Grand Duke’s household at daybreak, and he had neither the excuse nor the right to stop her before then.

So Ian spent the night in his office, suppressing the urge to act impulsively, and sent a message to the Marquess Prowell regarding Betty’s whereabouts.

He sank into a deep despair mixed with self-loathing.

“…Currently, neither the Marquess nor the Marchioness are at the Prowell residence, so I could not convey the message.”

Until the moment the messenger returned with a troubled expression, he could only feel the faint spark of hope.

Betty awoke abruptly at dawn. Though the world was still dark, the surroundings were bright enough to make out objects clearly.

“Oh no. I need to get up and get ready…”

As she instinctively sat up, she finally realized where she was from the overly soft comfort of the bed.

“Ah, right. This isn’t the Duke’s house… or is it?”

Her faint murmuring echoed in the room. Thinking of the Duke household made her worry for Vivian, which only deepened her restless mood.

It was just one of the countless thoughts that had plagued her mind overnight.

Would Vivian be okay? Was it alright for her to be here? What should she do now? And how should she deal with Grand Duke Dayban in the future?

“How should I deal with him…? Just keep my distance, but remain polite.”

Yet thinking about all the warm and casual conversations they had shared made it hard to reach such a simple conclusion.

Honestly, she still felt a lingering attachment.

Realizing this, she startled herself.

“Stop. Stop thinking about it.”

Since yesterday, her mind had been trapped in a repeating loop of similar thoughts, giving her a headache.

Looking outside, it was early; the restless night’s brief sleep had left her body weary and sore.

But that didn’t mean she could go back to sleep. Betty tied up her hair neatly and, after a moment of contemplation, decided to leave the room.

“No one’s here…”

Unlike the bustling Duke household at this hour, the Grand Duke’s mansion was quiet, reflecting its master’s reserved nature.

Instinctively, Betty slowed her steps toward the kitchen on the lower floor.

After all, she was here as a ‘guest.’ She didn’t want to snoop around unnecessarily.

Thus, her answer was to step outside. She naturally walked out the door into the desolate open space.

It was clear that Ian had no interest in gardening.

Surveying the barren, monotonous landscape with only minimal weeding done, she changed direction.

Then, in the distance, she heard the sound of a sword cutting through the air.

“Someone must be in the training ground.”

Through the trees, she saw a wide clearing, and in the center, a person wielding a sword.

Even from afar, it was clearly the Grand Duke.

He swung the sword with deadly seriousness, as if an invisible, intangible enemy were present.

“…I should probably turn back.”

Betty stopped at a distance where she could barely make out his figure.

Just as she was about to turn, a small stone at her foot rolled loudly, breaking the silence.

“Ah…”

She swallowed her words, but Ian had already stopped swinging his sword and was looking toward her.

He soon sheathed the sword and wiped his sweat with a towel.

Up until that moment, Betty thought he would pretend not to notice her. But suddenly, he lifted his head, holding something in his hand, and began walking toward her.

Betty instinctively turned to leave, until his words stopped her.

“Betty. Wait a moment. I have something to say to you.”

Despite her firm resolution yesterday, just that voice made her waver.

Betty turned to face him. After all, Ian was a kind and good person.

She didn’t want to ignore him just because she had decided to push him away. Perhaps this was yet another attempt to rationalize her actions.

“The Prowell residence is empty right now, so it seems difficult to go immediately.”

“Huh?”

However, the unexpected words from the Grand Duke as he approached made all the thoughts she had painstakingly organized scatter instantly in her mind.