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Chapter 41
“The Duke caught the plague?”
Count Esta’s greying eyebrows twitched as if dancing.
“No wonder. That Godwin Duke—he’s the sort who would make a huge fuss over the broken engagement, but it’s been oddly quiet. So that’s the reason.”
But in response to Count Esta’s conclusion, Isis scratched under her nose with hesitation.
“Uh… Actually, Father… that’s not quite it.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, the Duke isn’t staying quiet about the broken engagement because he’s sick. He’s just not able to say anything.”
Isis, whose pink eyes closely resembled Litricia’s, cautiously gauged her father’s reaction.
“Patrick Godwin cheated on Litricia. Even if he’s a Duke, if he has any shame at all, he’d have nothing to say.”
“He did what? Cheated?!”
Watching Count Esta’s expression, Isis swallowed hard.
Though he was retired from the frontlines, Count Esta had once led the knights. His lowered voice made the entire atmosphere feel heavy.
The pressure was so intense it felt like her skin was tingling.
Sensing that saying the wrong thing might cause unnecessary trouble, Isis quickly shifted the blame to Patrick.
“Yeah, cheated! That bastard Patrick Godwin’s been secretly meeting with Appeltz of the Loraz family. Can you believe it? He’s out of his mind, seriously!”
“Hah! That half-blood dares mock House Esta?!”
Count Esta roared in fury, condemning Patrick’s lowly birth.
“When did you find this out, Isis?”
“At the recent victory banquet. I didn’t see it myself, but Litricia told me…”
“Have you lost your mind?!”
At the Count’s angry shout, Isis plugged her ears with her fingers.
“Gah, so loud! You’re still full of energy, Father.”
“If that really happened, you should have told me immediately! Why keep it to yourself all this time?! Knowing the truth and doing nothing—no wonder they think we’re fools!”
“Well, I figured you wouldn’t care. You never want to hear anything about Litricia anyway, do you? This is hardly new.”
Isis, not backing down, frowned. She felt wronged in her own way. It wasn’t as if she’d done nothing.
She had done her best to confirm what Litricia said about Patrick.
And once she confirmed it was true, she’d gotten furious. She had almost stormed the Duke’s estate herself.
But what good did that do?
Both the Duke’s and the Appeltz estates had locked their gates tight, claiming plague—she hadn’t even been able to step over the threshold.
What more could she have done in such a situation? She pouted in frustration.
“What did she say? Litricia, I mean.”
“She didn’t say much.”
“Tsk tsk. As soft as ever. No spine.”
With a displeased expression, Count Esta stroked his beard.
“I must pay Duke Godwin a visit.”
“Didn’t you hear me, Father? The Duke is quarantined because of the plague. No one can see him.”
“Then I’ll see his son instead.”
“They won’t open the door no matter what. What makes you think it’ll be any different for you?”
“You and I aren’t the same. I have a valid reason to see Duke Godwin.”
Count Esta pulled out a list of goods and the accompanying payment receipts for items from the Godwin estate that had been transported back with him by ship.
“If need be, I’ll threaten to dump all these into the sea. Let’s see if even the heaviest iron gate can stay shut then.”
*
“Who exactly are you referring to?”
At Killian’s question, Peter pointed innocently at Litricia.
“Her Grace, the Grand Duchess, seems suitable.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
Killian scoffed, completely dismissing Peter’s suggestion.
“Viscount, I was surprised you agreed to work with me so readily, but you shouldn’t assume all the capital nobles are like you.”
“Well, I am a bit unique, aren’t I? But I don’t think Count Esta is much different.”
Peter smiled brightly, without malice.
“He’s her father, after all. What father could refuse his daughter’s plea for help?”
Peter genuinely seemed to believe Count Esta would help Litricia.
He turned toward her and said, “So if we need more tetrad, Your Grace should try speaking with him.”
“You should stop spouting nonsense, Viscount.”
Killian stretched out an arm to shield Litricia.
With his vision suddenly blocked, Peter craned his neck to peek around, but all he could see were a few strands of her hair.
“We’ll only purchase tetrad through you, Viscount.”
“But, Your Highness, that won’t yield nearly enough antidote.”
“He’s right, Killian.”
Agreeing with Peter, Litricia grasped Killian’s arm with both hands.
“Piril.”
“Y-Yes! Your Grace!”
Instead of responding to Litricia, Killian called out to Piril, who had been quietly hiding in the background.
“How much antidote can we make with the tetrad we’ll buy from Viscount Peter?”
“Uh, probably enough for the knights and that boy, Allen… Yes, that much should be possible!”
“That’s sufficient.”
Killian turned away from Piril and tried to pry Litricia’s hands off his arm. But she held on tightly.
“It’s not enough, Killian. What about the people in the capital?”
She leaned closer, narrowing the distance between them.
“I’ll talk to the Count.”
“There’s no need for you to do that.”
Killian stared into her eyes with an unreadable expression.
Beneath her soft-colored lashes, those large eyes contained only him.
That unwavering, devoted gaze wasn’t unpleasant.
But still, some things simply weren’t meant to be.
“Litricia. Do you really think Count Esta will listen to you?”
“Well…”
‘She can’t even bring herself to lie about it.’
Watching her slight frame shrink with doubt wasn’t a pleasant sight.
“Still, I can at least try. Who knows?”
“And why must that ‘who knows’ possibility come from you?”
“What? Because… if I don’t, the plague will spread uncontrollably in the capital.”
Startled, Litricia’s hand twitched under Killian’s palm.
“You really are…”
“What am I?”
‘Is she overly kind, or just too naïve? What’s so important about a few antidotes?’
Killian pressed his lips tightly together like a drawn blade, suppressing his rising frustration. His expression had grown cold.
Mentioning Count Esta had reminded him of something unpleasant.
Bothered by how small Litricia’s luggage had been, Killian had thoroughly investigated her life upon returning to the North.
He found out exactly how she’d been treated at the Count’s estate. And now she wanted to get involved with those people again? Voluntarily?
Maybe Litricia didn’t mind, but Killian wasn’t magnanimous enough to let it slide.
“Why are you looking at me like that, Killian?”
“Haah… Litricia, I’m not as broad-minded as you. The people in the capital? Honestly, I don’t care much about them. I don’t even feel like I should care.”
He didn’t trust himself to speak gently, so he focused on being concise.
“I’m not the kind of man who wishes recovery for those who reject me.”
Every word dripped with bitterness.
And as if responding to that tone, Litricia’s hand slipped out from under Killian’s.
It felt like a silent expression of disappointment. Killian’s mouth tightened bitterly.
What use was trying to earn her affection with all kinds of gestures? It didn’t cover up the twisted parts inside.
“If you were hoping for a more mature husband, I’m sorry I don’t meet that standard.”
He let her hand slip away and withdrew his own.
“If you truly care about the people, we can sell the antidote formula to Count Esta through Viscount Peter.”
“But if you do that, it won’t clear your name in the public’s eyes.”
“I still don’t understand why you care so much about that. It’s my problem. It has nothing to do with you. So don’t involve yourself.”
“Killian.”
“Stay out of it, Litricia. I’ll handle my own affairs.”
