Ahh, our little Rose...
I shot up from my seat. Rubbing my belly dramatically, I leaned against Eric for support and turned to face the Duke with a pained expression.
“Uugh... My abdomen keeps tightening up these days, Father-in-law... Oh dear, forgive me for the discourtesy~”
The Duke glared at us with a face carved from stone. His lips twitched, as if he were about to say something.
But I spoke before he could.
“Grandpa~ Mama’s tummy hurts~”
I beamed sweetly at him as I kept rubbing my belly. The Duke’s face twisted magnificently.
“Gra... Grandpa...?”
“Of course! You are, after all, the grandfather of the child born from Eric and my lo
ove. Hoho
!”
✵
✵
✵
“You saw that, right? You saw those
eyes
?! The eyes that screamed, ‘I want to pluck out every last hair on your head, shove you in the oven, and roast you instead of the turkey!’”
Having retreated to the garden with Eric, I was trembling with horror as I clutched at my belly. Eric frowned deeply.
“Stop that. Rose isn’t even real.”
“Wasn’t it
our
Rose just now?”
I shot him a glare. Eric groaned and shook his head.
“I didn’t have a choice, did I?”
And yet… He always manages to walk the upright path, no matter the situation. So how—
How is it that I feel like I’m slowly dragging this righteous young lord down with me?
I glanced up at Eric, feeling strangely conflicted. That’s when—
From within the carefully trimmed hedges of the garden, I heard the subtle rustle of movement. I flinched and turned toward the sound.
A knight in black...
I narrowed my eyes and scrutinized the figure. His face was hidden behind a veil, but I’d seen knights dressed like that before—once at the Divine Temple, and again during Andrea’s abduction.
“Commander. A message has arrived from the agents we stationed at the estate.”
The knight spoke.
Commander?
Hadn’t Eric resigned as Captain of the Knights?
I furrowed my brows.
Now that I think about it, I really don’t know that much about Eric...
He
seems
like an open book, but then something like this crops up and throws me off. Honestly, if I just asked, I bet he’d tell me. With that calm, innocent face of his, he'd probably reveal every intricate scheme behind it all…
And then I’d be neck-deep in it too.
With that in mind, I simply watched as Eric walked over to the knight.
Then again—
...Is he even a real knight? Since when do knights sneak around using underground tunnels?
I turned my gaze to the route that the black-clad knight must have taken to infiltrate the manor. He’d probably scaled that wall, crept along the guesthouse roof, then slipped through the thickets—
Honestly. Everyone associated with Eric lives like their souls are on fire.
The knight whispered something at length to Eric. When Eric gave a small nod, the shadow vanished back into the thickets. I barely had time to blink before a dark figure leapt over the guesthouse wall and disappeared.
“...?”
I stood frozen, dumbfounded. Eric walked briskly back to me.
Don’t ask. Don’t be curious. Don’t get involved.
Because if I do… I might end up living life with that same relentless intensity.
“There’s trouble at the estate.”
…So much for my resolution. At the word
estate
, my eyes went wide.
“The estate? What estate?!”
I blinked up at him. Eric gave me a troubled look as he replied.
“...Helena’s estate. Helena, Philip, and the witch went out together, and the three of them vanished near a teahouse in the capital…”
“W-What?!”
The three of them disappeared? My mother, the witch, and Philip—together?!
While I stood there, stunned, Eric handed me a slip of paper—probably what he’d received earlier from that knight.
The handwriting was lazy, casual, the kind that never held spiritual force properly—undeniably my mother’s.
I lost the ledger. I’ll meet the witch and handle it. Don’t worry—just enjoy your time with Eric.
Crystal clear.
It was from Helena.
…She lost the ledger? And she’s just saying that now?! After vanishing for five days without a word?!
And what’s she mean, she’ll “handle” it with the witch? That woman isn’t someone you
reason
with!
A chill raced down my spine like my meridians were freezing over.
“Ever hear the tale? If you borrow money from the witch and don’t repay, you wake up missing your eyes.”
“Guess whose leg the lame Olga’s walking on now!”
“Ohohoho, little red-haired miss, your heart looks simply delicious…”
The witch’s raspy voice—like iron scraping against stone—echoed in my mind.
One psycho down, another shows up…
I clenched the note tight. It crumpled beneath my fingers. Then I carefully tucked it into my robe.
“I have to go right now… right now…”
I murmured. Eric’s expression turned strained, but before he could speak, I heard the steward’s voice shout from behind me.
“Young miss! If you don’t start preparing now, you’ll barely make it to the palace in time for the banquet! Enough sulking, now come this way!”
I looked up at Eric. He rested a hand lightly on my shoulder.
“I’ll go find Helena. Don’t worry—just prepare for the Princess’s celebration. My men will be with you. Not even my father will dare touch you.”
I bit my lip. My hand reached up and held his.
Warmth flowed from his palm into mine. That warmth was the only thing keeping my qi from spiraling out of control.
Damn witch…
I cursed under my breath and started walking back to the estate.
✵
✵
✵
There was no helping it.
Eric headed out to track down Helena’s whereabouts, and I returned to the manor to obediently prepare for the Princess’s birthday banquet.
My mind was so tangled with worry, I couldn’t focus at all while putting on my dress.
Since it was a formal appearance at the imperial palace, the steward had prepared an especially extravagant gown—more elaborate than even the salon event.
It looked absurdly expensive… but I couldn’t bring myself to care.
Instead of wondering how much I could sell the gold embroidery for, or what silver buttons might fetch on the black market, my thoughts were flooded with one thing:
The image of Helena and Philip being devoured by that cursed witch.
“Shall we do your hair up? Or braid it low with jewels? Huff, huff… Young miss, you’re radiant either way…!”
Despite the tension, Nina fussed excitedly, styling my hair.
I responded to her comments with half-hearted nods, all the while waiting—hoping—that Eric would return soon, with everything resolved.
But even after I was fully dressed and ready to depart… Eric didn’t come back.
When I descended to the first floor and saw the Duke—his crimson eyes gleaming—I finally understood.
Ah.
If Eric wasn’t here… it meant I had to deal with this lunatic alone.
This madman who probably fantasized about roasting me like a spirit beast on a spit.
I forced a bright smile and greeted him.
“Faaather~! Just the two of us today, huh? Ohohoho~!”
Valdek d’Orléans played the role of the doting father-in-law, gallantly escorting me to the carriage. Even once we were alone inside, he kept fussing—adjusting my seat, asking after my health, offering tonics.
...What’s your scheme this time?
My head was already a storm of worry over Helena and Philip, and now this psycho was across from me, bombarding me with questions.
“...I-I’m fine, f-father-in-law…”
I answered awkwardly, casting glances out the carriage window again and again. It felt like Eric might appear at any moment, charging up on horseback, throw open the carriage door, and say—
“Everything’s fine. Didn’t I say I’d protect you?”
—with that bright, foolishly radiant face of his.
Why do I like that brightness even as it annoys me… hate it even as I find comfort in it? Somewhere along the line, the once-clear qi flow of my life had become tangled.
No… to be precise, it all started unraveling the moment I crossed paths with that psycho who pierced right through my heart meridian.
And then—
The Duke spoke in a cold voice.
“...What a shame. You say you’re fine, but I thought the three of you con-artist kin were at least close. Somewhat tightly bound, in your own sly way.”
“…?”
I lifted my head.
His crimson eyes met mine. They curved into a crescent shape as he smiled—a smile so reminiscent of Eric’s that it sent a chill down my spine.
It’s the contrast that makes it worse. They're completely different people—so why does it feel like they share the same soul shadow?
But wait. What he just said… I’ve heard that before.
“So you’ve come, Emelline. Even for a family of swindlers, you seemed awfully close. Good thing I used a gun instead of a crossbow, huh? Now, be a good girl and hand me those documents.”
“What did you just say, Father-in-law?”
At that moment, the carriage came to a halt. Outside, I heard the voice of a royal knight stationed at the entrance to the Princess’s Palace.
“From here, all guests must disarm and proceed on foot. I will escort you.”
“Understood.”
The Duke responded briefly, then turned to me.
“You heard him, Emelline. Time to walk.”
He extended his arm toward me. His face had softened into a gentle and refined mask, as if the chill from earlier had never existed.
I looked at him, confused. Then, without hesitation, the Duke took my stiff hand and looped it through his arm.
He escorted me like the perfect father-in-law and muttered under his breath:
“Let’s hope Eric isn’t too late. You were supposed to share the first dance at the ball, weren’t you?”
To my ears, it didn’t sound like a hopeful wish—it sounded like a certainty.
A certainty that Eric
would
be late.
Which meant… he knew. He knew Eric had gone to search for the missing Helena and Philip.
Why? How would you know that?
I felt a frigid draft sweep down my back, straight through my core.
Chapter 82