TMLOP 79

Chapter 79

The Male Lead Obsesses Over Proposing

73. Convulsions of Change

After the three old ladies left, Senelia postponed her dinner and wandered through the garden, lost in thought.

She had realized Benedict had returned from the sound of his horse’s neigh, but she couldn’t decide whether she should be the one to seek him out first.

This situation—where everyone seemed to insist that Benedict loved her more than she loved him—felt strange and unfamiliar to her.

And yet, something faint, a ticklish feeling, began to stir inside her chest.

How fickle the human heart is.

Only a few days ago, she had confronted Benedict, accusing him of making her beg for love. But now her feelings were completely opposite.

It was pathetic, and she couldn’t deny it.

“Milady, the night wind is cold.”

Senelia turned at once when she felt a thick shawl draped over her shoulders.

It was Marianne, who was now the deputy head maid of the mansion.

“…Didn’t I say I didn’t want anyone following me?”

Senelia narrowed her eyes deliberately as she spoke.

She had dismissed all the maids on purpose so she could walk in the garden alone and think.

“Surely, you’re not going to scold this old woman just for worrying that you might catch cold, are you?”

And with Marianne’s words, Senelia found she had nothing more to say.

“I heard you skipped your meal as well. You’ve already grown so thin, but if you keep skipping meals, it’ll harm your health. Even at lunch, you only ate lightly, saying you were too busy. You can always take a walk later…”

Marianne’s nagging went on.

At that, Senelia suddenly cut her off.

“Wait—wait. Marianne, are you spying on me? How do you know all that in such detail?”

For a moment, Marianne’s hand, which had been fastening the shawl, froze.

Senelia stared at her steadily.

The Aphron estate was one of the largest among noble households.

It was only natural that Marianne, as deputy head maid, would be busy.

It should have been impossible for her to keep such close track of Senelia’s daily habits.

And yet she seemed to know everything, as if she had been watching Senelia’s every move.

It was only natural for suspicion to rise in Senelia’s heart.

“…Was this His Grace’s order?”

After a pause, Senelia asked quietly.

As deputy head maid, Marianne couldn’t always be by her side.

Which meant someone who served Senelia more closely had been reporting her every move.

And surely, those reports were not going to Marianne.

One does not spy on a superior unless ordered to do so—and unless there is someone powerful enough to take responsibility for it.

So the truth was obvious: one of Senelia’s maids was reporting to Benedict, and he had then told Marianne to act, leading to this situation.

“…Well, Your Grace the Duchess…”

“Marianne, you’re supposed to be on my side. Aren’t you?”

Senelia’s gaze bore into her.

Unable to withstand that gaze, Marianne finally confessed.

“I’m sorry, milady. Every time you returned from the duke’s residence, you looked thinner than before. I was so anxious that I felt I had to take better care of you myself…”

Her words trailed off as she fidgeted nervously.

It wasn’t that she had been deliberately hiding Benedict’s involvement.

Marianne had simply been the one who most keenly noticed Senelia wasting away during her constant travels between the Aphron estate and the Daphnen townhouse.

That was why, when she heard Senelia had barely eaten all day, she had rushed over in alarm.

“I know you didn’t mean it that way, Marianne. But I do want to know which maid reported my every move. Do you know who it was?”

Even if it was done out of concern, the fact that her private life was being reported and monitored was not pleasant.

Marianne shook her head.

“I was only told by His Grace to check on you, so I don’t know. Shall I find out?”

“…No. Leave it.”

If the deputy head maid personally started interrogating the others, it would only blow things out of proportion.

Besides, Senelia already had her own way of finding out who was watching her.

“…But you’re right, Marianne. I should have dinner. Will you tell the chef to prepare it?”

After a pause, Senelia gave the order.

Marianne, who had been worried she had upset her lady, brightened at once.

“Yes, milady! I’ll go to the kitchen immediately.”

“Thank you.”

At Senelia’s words, Marianne hurried away.

Senelia lifted her head, her gaze traveling upward.

Her eyes fell upon the duke’s study, where a bright light still burned.

Senelia sat alone again at the long dining table.

During the days Benedict had been avoiding her, he hadn’t even come to share meals with her—something they had once done without fail.

“Steward, is His Grace dining separately again today?”

For the first time in days, Senelia asked the steward about Benedict’s whereabouts.

She couldn’t risk sending Marianne to deliver a message, or else Benedict might realize she had noticed something.

Senelia didn’t want to make Marianne uncomfortable.

“I… I didn’t ask, Your Grace.”

The steward looked flustered.

On the first day Benedict had failed to appear, the steward had offered an excuse that His Grace was terribly busy.

But since Senelia hadn’t asked again in the days that followed, he had remained silent as well.

“If he isn’t too busy, tell His Grace I’d like to wait and have dinner together.”

Senelia gave her first true command to the steward.

“Ah… yes, Your Grace.”

Startled but pleased, the steward hurried away at once.

“…She asked to have dinner with me?”

When the steward relayed the message, Benedict was just as stunned.

Seeing his confusion, the steward repeated it for clarity.

The steward himself was overjoyed—after all, it had been so long since the duke and duchess dined together.

“Yes, Your Grace. Her Grace is waiting in the dining room, having postponed her meal for you.”

How could Benedict refuse?

The steward’s tone brimmed with certainty.

If she had delayed a meal that should have already begun, it clearly meant she would only eat if Benedict came.

“…All right. I’ll go.”

After a brief hesitation, Benedict nodded.

He couldn’t allow the already thin Senelia to starve herself because of him.

He quickened his pace toward the dining room.

Just the thought of her waiting for him made his steps unconsciously faster.

“Your Grace! Please slow—!”

The attendants trailing behind him panted heavily.

Benedict was a Swordmaster, towering at least a head taller than most men.

Though he wasn’t running, his long strides carried him nearly at a sprint. There was no way the staff could keep up.

So he left them all behind, reaching the dining hall alone and opening the door himself.

“You’re here.”

Senelia rose and turned toward him.

The footsteps of a man who had ignored every call from behind now halted instantly.

Benedict froze in place, unable to move under the weight of her gaze, as though nailed to the spot.

“Won’t you sit down?”

Senelia’s calm voice finally broke the spell.

“…Ah.”

As though waking from a trance, Benedict stepped forward.

He winced at the sheer stupidity of the sound that had escaped him.

But in truth, he couldn’t think of anything else to say.

“I heard you’ve been eating in your study.”

Once they were both seated and the servants began laying out the dishes, Senelia spoke.

“Even if you don’t want to see me, you should still eat properly. You don’t eat well locked in your study.”

She spoke as if nothing had happened between them.

Benedict, being massive in build and constantly active as a knight, needed a considerable amount of food.

It was nearly impossible to prepare enough to satisfy him in his study alone.

That was what Senelia was pointing out.

“Senelia, it wasn’t that I didn’t want to see you.”

But the only part Benedict latched onto was her first remark, and he hurried to refute it.

Her eyes rested calmly on him.

“I thought… perhaps…”

The truth was, Senelia hated being monitored more than anything.

Think about it: for eight years, she had lived under constant surveillance from Clifford’s men wherever she went—except when she was at Benedict’s side. Of course she was sick of it.

“I thought you didn’t trust me. That you were watching me in case I went back to being the emperor’s dog.”

She knew if Benedict had been monitoring her for that reason, she couldn’t have argued.

But that wasn’t what had stung her.

“Don’t call yourself that, Senelia. Don’t ever use that word for yourself.”

Benedict’s expression hardened instantly at her choice of words.

Feeling slightly mischievous from her wounded pride, Senelia finally pressed the issue.

“Then why did you avoid me all this time… while still having me watched?”