Chapter 113
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Brought to you by Valir Scans! To support our team and enjoy the latest releases, please read directly on our official site: valirscans.org
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Dear, I believe you may be misunderstanding.
Chapter 113
She isn't even a witch....
'Perhaps.'
A flicker of concern crossed Lucas Black's eyes.
Until now, I had assumed that the curse transferring to her arm wouldn't cause Grace any serious harm.
But perhaps that assumption had been far too naive.
Having lived alongside the curse for so long, I had forgotten the sinister power inherent in the very word 'The Curse' itself.
'What if Grace is also affected by The Curse and something terrible happens...?'
My heart sank.
I gazed at my wife with eyes twisted by worry.
If something terrible were to befall Grace—if it were because of The Curse—I would search desperately for answers.
As long as I drew breath, I would find them. Without fail.
"There is a diary my mother left behind.... It's strange though—when I looked through it before, there was nothing particularly remarkable. I suppose... I should read it again."
Grace belatedly recalled the existence of her mother's diary.
The diary she had never regarded as especially significant.
Now that she knew her mother's secret, it seemed she might find something different within its pages.
At her words, Lucas Black suddenly rose to his feet, remembering something.
"Come to think of it, I haven't given it to you yet."
"What? Something you haven't given me?"
Lucas Black smiled mysteriously at her tilted head, her expression full of confusion.
"I should have Haem bring it at once."
"What on earth is it? Is it urgent?"
"Not so much urgent as... it simply feels like the right moment to give it to you now."
He smiled and pressed his lips to her damp cheek.
Comforted by his warmth as he drew near, Grace asked another important question she had nearly forgotten.
"By the way, what happened with your visit to the Royal Palace?"
"Ah."
Lucas Black offered a somewhat relieved smile.
"Fortunately, it seems His Majesty is not the sort to abandon us so coldly. His condition improved greatly through the dawn hours, and he is now resting and recovering."
"Oh, what a relief."
Grace seemed to release some of her tension, placing a hand over her heart.
"But now the entire nation knows His Majesty is gravely ill. The succession struggle that was already fierce beneath the surface will only become more intense."
Lucas Black's gaze grew heavier still.
The succession struggle.
At those words, Grace's thoughts turned to Princess Fresia.
Those confident eyes surveying the Royal Palace from below.
The self-assurance carried in those small but resolute shoulders.
She—that woman would surely achieve her ambitions.
Though I could not explain why, I had a premonition of it.
It felt like witnessing the majestic presence of a golden eagle ascending to the highest pinnacle of this nation.
"However, upon hearing that Your Majesty is gravely ill, I cannot in good conscience depart for our honeymoon immediately. Would you grant me but a few days? I wish to see His Majesty safely recover and rise from his sickbed before we leave."
He made the request to Grace with utmost courtesy, yet with such careful consideration.
It was a polite request—neither a demand nor an insistence.
The fact that he spoke with such delicate care about something so natural stirred an unexpected warmth within her.
He respected her... That small gesture seeped warmly into her turbulent heart, soothing it.
"Of course, as long as you need."
"Thank you."
"No, thank you for asking so kindly, Lucas."
The two gazed at each other before slowly bringing their lips together.
A lukewarm tenderness—neither passionate nor driven by desire—gently permeated their kiss.
Yet that alone was enough to make it sweet and intoxicating.
* * *
Lucas came down to the First Floor to refill the empty water bottle and summon Haem.
Before he could leave, he opened the ice compartment that was always stocked and drank deeply of the cold water.
Thud—
His eyes gleamed sharply as he set down the now-empty glass with rough force.
'Norman Oellin.'
Earlier, a torrent of other matters had prevented me from reacting properly, but I had not forgotten him.
'...I cannot simply kill him.'
His eyes burned with an icy light.
Within those blue eyes swirled a deep, murderous intent.
I could not allow that man to walk freely in this world.
The one who not only abused her but attempted to take her life.
The one who dared to harm those luminous, beautiful eyes.
The man who, driven by petty inferiority, had plunged innocent Grace into years of terror.
Even the air he breathed seemed wasted.
Countless methods of erasing Norman from existence flickered ceaselessly through my mind.
If I stepped forward, I could erase his existence silently and completely within a single week.
Wiping him from this land and casting him into a hellish place where he would beg for death itself was no difficult task.
Yet I refrained because I knew that doing so would not be vengeance for Grace, but merely venting my own rage.
But at this point... I could not simply endure and wait any longer.
'First, I must consult with Grace... If she has some plan, I should exercise patience a while longer.'
But if that plan were far distant...
Then I would need to act first.
In truth, my desire to handle him myself, without Grace needing to lift a finger, burned far stronger.
Without soiling her hands, I could settle it myself.
'...But that would not be right. I must leave Grace the opportunity for her own vengeance.'
Forgiveness was not the answer to every emotion.
How could he pretend that what happened never occurred?
Years of accumulated suffering—how could it simply vanish in an instant before the glittering words of forgiveness and mercy, as if washed away?
Wasn't that itself a kind of miracle?
Sometimes, a revenge proportionate to the past could be a perfectly clean resolution.
Of course, acceptance and forgiveness might also make for the most plausible ending, but....
In any case, I had no desire to apply such idealistic and warm words to Norman Oellin.
Not at all. Not in the slightest.
My eyes, which had been fixed on empty space, gleamed with cruelty.
At that very moment, Haem burst through the door with hurried steps.
"Why did you suddenly bring a box... Eeeek!"
Haem, who had collided with Lucas standing motionless before the door, jumped back in shock and fell on his rear.
"...What? What's wrong?"
"G-g-General! I thought you were a ghost! I mean, why are your eyes so terrifying?"
"What's wrong with my eyes?"
Lucas wiped the corners of his eyes with a dry hand and relaxed his expression.
"You looked like you were about to slaughter someone! Ah! Don't tell me you've been waiting to execute me? Am I about to lose my head? Just like that? Why?"
"Be quiet. Hand over whatever you're holding before I actually roast you."
"Ugh, I'm not tasty. You know that! I've been worked so hard by my master that I'm nothing but skin and bones—I'd be tough and stringy!"
Seeing how he was subtly appealing to his own mistreatment, he seemed less frightened now.
Lucas narrowed his eyes and glared at Haem.
When I recalled that malicious intention from moments before and put force into my gaze, Haem flinched slightly and hastily held out what he had brought.
"I've intruded. I'll be taking my leave!"
It was fortunate that he had the sense to read the mood.
Watching Haem disappear in a flurry, Lucas chuckled softly and carried the box up to the Second Floor.
Grace had left the master bedroom and was in her private chambers.
Since Julie had already organized all of her belongings, finding things was not difficult.
A diary resting inside a wooden box where Grace kept only her most treasured possessions.
So absorbed in reading it carefully, Grace did not notice Lucas entering the room.
Lucas subtly brightened the room's light for her, then sat quietly behind her, observing Grace as she read through the diary with meticulous attention.
Beyond the large window, the sky had deepened to purple.
Grace's profile, shadowed by the dim light, was as beautiful as a perfect contour drawn in a single stroke by a master painter.
I observed Grace's profile, which flowed richly in varied hues according to the light, without a hint of boredom.
How much longer did time pass like this?
"...A compass. I need a compass. And a watch too."
Grace murmured as if sighing, flipping through several pages to verify.
Then, as if suddenly regaining awareness, she lifted her head and gazed out the darkened window.
Startled, she turned her head and discovered Lucas watching her.
"General!"
"Lucas."
"Ah.... Lucas."
"Have you finished reading?"
Lucas Black, who had been watching her with his arm draped over the armrest and his chin resting on his hand, smiled crookedly.
Grace Oellin smiled back sheepishly, closed the diary she had been reading, and approached his side.
"When did you arrive? I'm sorry. I didn't even notice you were here."
"Not at all. Watching you read here has been quite enjoyable. Every time you concentrate, you bite your lip—is that a habit?"
"Did I do that?"
Grace Oellin was startled and bit her lower lip.
Lucas Black's thumb pressed against her bitten lower lip and released it gently.
The tip of his finger, pushed forward loosely, brushed against the tip of her tongue.
Unable to bear that moist sensation, Lucas Black suddenly pulled Grace Oellin close and pressed their lips together.
They touched and parted, and the tender friction repeated several times.
His tongue, which had invaded carefully, gradually grew rougher, becoming fierce as if to devour her tongue, before finally pulling away.
"...My lips are tingling."
"I apologize. I was trying to soothe them, but I've only made them hurt more."
He placed small kisses on her wet lips and gently licked her swollen lower lip.
At the ticklish sensation, Grace Oellin trembled and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck.
"It's fine. Thanks to you, I didn't think about anything for a moment."
At her words, delivered with a soft laugh, Lucas Black pulled her close again and traced the inside of her lips slowly.
"I think it's rather unfair that someone already beautiful keeps saying beautiful things."
"Unfair to what?"
"Unfair to someone who is restraining themselves—you're provoking them."
Both of them laughed while maintaining eye contact.
For the first time throughout this long day that had stretched since dawn, they were able to meet each other's eyes and laugh without worry.
"I have something to give you. Wait a moment."
He rose from his seat first.
Then he brought over the box he had set down in the corner of the room when he entered.
"What is this?"
He smiled silently and urged her to open it.
Grace Oellin hesitated for a moment, then slowly opened the box.
Then she looked at him in surprise.
"How did these end up here...?"
Inside the box lay about a dozen items arranged carefully.
They were all things Grace Oellin recognized, things she had never expected to see again.
"How did you... get Mother's belongings...?"
"I wasn't able to recover everything in the rush. It turned out that Marquess Oellin had taken a few of them. Did he return them to you by any chance?"
"Yes, that's right. Father suddenly returned them to me on the day of the wedding."
"Then that's fortunate. After all, these items have found their way back to their rightful owner."
Grace Oellin examined her mother's belongings one by one with trembling hands.
A leather-bound book without a title, a worn dagger, a pocket watch, an old medicine pouch, and a compass....
They were all her mother's belongings that had been taken from her.
Grace stared blankly at the items before her, uncertain what words to speak or how to express herself.
"A wedding gift."
Grace's lips parted as if to say something, anything, yet no words adequate to the emotions swelling in her heart came to mind.
"When your mother mentioned your incense burner, I suspected Marquess Oellin wouldn't have taken only that. So I... traced his black market transactions."
Such a thing was possible?
And all of this had been recovered in merely a month.
Grace found herself recognizing anew that Lucas Black wielded far greater influence than she had imagined.
No wonder Princess Fresia had chosen this man—Lucas Black—as her backer, of all people.
"I... I don't know what to say."
"You don't need to say anything. I wasn't looking for words anyway. If there's anything I want..."
He drew near and pressed his lips gently against her temple.
The hand that pulled her waist close and held her firmly against him carried a possessive intensity that was unmistakable.
"Just smile for me."
"Is that enough? Truly?"
"You may not realize it, but right now, there's nothing more precious to me than that."
At Lucas's earnest words, Grace couldn't help but laugh.
"I've felt this for a while now, but you really do have a way with words."
"Is that a compliment?"
"It is."
"If I've earned a compliment, then I deserve a reward."
His hand grasped and caressed her waist with increasing intimacy.
Their bodies pressed together without space between them, and the kisses that traced across foreheads and cheeks deepened with fervent intensity.
As his hand traveled up her waist to her slender belly, along her ribs, and toward her heaving chest—
Bang! Bang!
"Master! It's Haem. My apologies, but I'm coming up now!"
Haem's urgent voice rang out.
Lucas and Grace's eyes met, their lips still intertwined.
The two quickly withdrew from the room.
Haem came rushing up the Second Floor stairs in haste.
"What is it, Haem?"
"A guest, sir. A guest has arrived. It seems to be someone you absolutely must see. And... the lady as well."
Me too?
Grace looked at Haem with a puzzled expression.
"Who is it? Do I know them?"
"Rüfel brought her. The mother of the child you encountered in front of the Hospital before."
A face immediately came to mind.
A pale face with beautiful pink hair—a young-looking woman.
"She's come claiming to be Norman Oellin's mistress."
...!
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Brought to you by Valir Scans! To support our team and enjoy the latest releases, please read directly on our official site: valirscans.org
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