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Chapter 42
‘That was too much.’
Litrisha curved her lips into a flawlessly crafted smile—like a scene from a play she had momentarily forgotten.
The clear boundary in Killian’s attitude struck her like a bolt of lightning. She instantly snapped back to reality.
‘Right. If I think about it, I’m nothing here. Who do I think I am, stepping in like that?’
She had forgotten her place for a moment. Just one contract buried at the bottom of her luggage—that was all she was. Yet she had meddled as if she were truly something to him.
‘Sigh. If Isis were here, she’d have teased me again for not knowing my place.’
Litrisha had been deluded—mistaking the small kindnesses of this place, kindness she’d never known before, for something more. She wasn’t truly part of this household, just a guest passing through.
Maybe she had been flailing in the warmth of their courtesy and forgotten reality.
‘How embarrassing.’
She couldn’t meet Killian’s sea-colored eyes that stared straight at her. Her gaze dropped to the floor.
Her fingers, gripping the hem of her skirt in mortification, had turned red.
Even so, her smile remained perfect—so much so that no one could tell how she truly felt.
“I’m sorry, Killian. I must’ve overstepped because I was worried about you.”
“What…?”
“But I didn’t mean it in a bad way, so please don’t be too put off. And as for the antidote… let’s go with what you decided.”
“Wait, Litrisha. Look at me.”
Killian, sensing the subtle change in her demeanor, tried to stop her.
But Litrisha couldn’t bring herself to face him—her nose stung, as if tears were about to spill.
“Please, go ahead with your conversation. I’ll excuse myself. I didn’t get to review yesterday’s lesson.”
It was an awkward excuse, even to her own ears. She added something about heading to the library, almost to herself, and left the room.
“Litrisha…!”
Killian reached out to stop her, but her cotton-candy-like hair disappeared behind the closing door.
He was left standing awkwardly, hand still half-raised, staring at the shut door.
“Well, I guess I shouldn’t have said anything.”
Peter let out an awkward noise and covered his mouth with a fist, pretending to suppress a cough. In truth, he was hiding a laugh brought on by Killian’s bewildered expression.
But the grin curled so far across his face it peeked out from behind his fist.
“…Are you enjoying this, Lord Peter?”
Killian’s sharp tone, laced with gritted teeth, made Peter break into a cold sweat.
“Haha, e-enjoying? No, of course not. I’m not the type to find pleasure in others’ quarrels.”
“If that’s so, then why don’t you wipe off that annoying smirk first?”
“Hahaha, is it that obvious?”
Pretending not to notice Killian’s narrowed icy-blue eyes, Peter pressed down the corners of his mouth.
Killian, apparently deciding not to pursue it further, lowered his outstretched hand and rubbed his brow.
“Haa… Anyway, the antidote matter will proceed as discussed. And don’t ever bring up Count Esta in front of my wife again. Understood?”
“Yes, of course. If that’s Your Grace’s wish.”
Peter shrugged with an innocent expression.
To Peter, the method didn’t matter as long as the outcome benefited him. There was no reason to oppose it.
“…?”
“…Is there something else you wish to say?”
Peter scratched his philtrum, puzzled by the intense look Killian was giving him.
He couldn’t guess what was coming.
“…It wasn’t a fight.”
“…Sorry?”
“I said, it wasn’t a fight.”
Peter’s lips parted in confusion—and then he burst out laughing with a loud “Puh-ha!”
Startled by the laugh that escaped uncontrollably, Peter quickly clamped his mouth shut.
But of course, Killian had heard it.
“You really do seem to be enjoying yourself. Or perhaps I’ve discovered a hidden talent—making others laugh?”
“N-no, that’s not it at all. Ahem. Definitely not.”
Peter awkwardly cleared his throat and grabbed his glasses chain, which had been bouncing on his cheekbones.
“A-anyway! Shouldn’t you go after her?”
Praying that Killian’s intense gaze would shift elsewhere, Peter pointed toward the direction Litrisha had gone.
“The duchess looked quite upset.”
His hope seemed to work—Killian’s facial muscles twitched.
Peter seized the moment.
“She probably reached out to House Esta because she was worried about you. But then you drew such a cold line… I’m sure she felt hurt.”
“Litrisha… is worried about me?”
Killian’s gaze softened, and Peter exhaled in relief.
“Yes. Her face was full of concern when she looked at you. She always gave me a polite smile, but today… that was the first time I saw her real emotions.”
At Peter’s genuinely surprised expression, Killian pressed his fingers to his brow.
“Worry, huh…”
Muttering the word as if it were foreign to him, Killian suddenly stood.
Startled, Peter leaned away from him.
“W-what is it now? Did I say something wrong again?”
Killian gave him a dismissive glance and brushed past.
Peter, who had flinched in fear, quickly straightened his posture.
“Ah! You’re going to the duchess? So you did listen to me! That’s a wise—”
Peter trailed off. Killian, who seemed like he was about to leave, turned back and walked toward him again.
“Duke Godwin was a man of many words, but his son is even worse—yapping about nothing.”
“I-I have been told I talk too much, but isn’t it better than staying silent and causing misunderstandings? Hahaha! Perhaps Your Grace should try living this way— No, I’ll be quiet now.”
As Killian loomed closer, Peter motioned like he was zipping his lips shut.
Apparently, that only annoyed Killian more. His face twisted as he took larger strides.
“Y-Your Grace! Let’s talk about this—eek!”
Peter raised both hands in front of his face like a shield.
But instead of striking, Killian’s footsteps moved away—followed by the sound of a drawer sliding open.
Seeing Killian holding a box of paints, Peter awkwardly lowered his arms.
Killian, who had been observing the entire exchange, shook his head with exasperation.
“So, how long are you planning to stay? Now that the antidote’s been developed, there’s no reason for you to remain.”
“Am I bothering you?”
“It’s not exactly pleasant.”
Killian shut the drawer and tucked the box into his inner pocket.
“You should return within the week. It’s not good for a marquis’s son to be away from the capital for too long.”
Without any sugarcoating, Killian essentially ordered him to leave. Peter lightly muttered, “How heartless.”
Killian turned as if to leave, but paused at the doorway.
“Oh, and one more thing.”
“…Yes?”
“I’m leaving the room not because of your suggestion—but because I just remembered something urgent.”
“Ah… understood… sir?”
“It’s not because of you.”
“Yes.”
Even though it was obvious Killian was headed to Litrisha, his pride compelled him to repeat it.
Peter wisely nodded. He had the strong feeling that if he argued here, he might finally get to experience Killian’s steel-like fist firsthand.
Thankfully, Killian only narrowed his eyes but said nothing further before leaving.
“Phew.”
As the heavy door slowly swung shut, Peter let out a breath of relief.
He brought his hand to his mouth—but instead of wiping his lips, a grin crooked across his face.
“Pft.”
His posture relaxed, now that Killian was gone.
“The infamous, cold-hearted Grand Duke… reacting like that?”
It was clear now—Litrisha meant something special to Killian.
“The ducal estate is more entertaining than I expected.”
Grinning, Peter fiddled with his glasses chain.
His neatly trimmed fingernails brushed the crystals dangling from it.
As he relished the smooth sensation, he turned his gaze to the large window behind Killian’s desk.
The clock tower was visible from there.
It was so tall, you could see it from nearly any window that faced the front gate—be it the study or the office.
“Hm. I wonder if His Grace would be furious if I asked to stay longer? But then again, what’s the point of going back to the capital? It’s nothing but boredom.”
“Lord Peter, I’ll escort you to your room.”
Peter’s lips pouted at the interruption.
He couldn’t exactly stay alone in a room that wasn’t his. A servant’s voice called from the partially open door.
“Ah, yes, I understand.”
Rising from his seat, Peter adjusted his glasses.
“Maybe I’ll just get scolded once and call it a day. Better than being bored.”
“Pardon? What did you say, my lord?”
“Nothing. Just talking to myself.”
Peter winked at the puzzled servant. The crystal on his glasses chain caught the light from the chandelier above.
The glow was the same blue hue as the smoke that had once radiated from Killian’s scarred palm
